A/N Apologies for the technical problem...hope this works. You are all awesome for writing me such great messages and reviews last chap -- thank you so much! Special thanks to prettypinkbookworm for inspiring this chapter. Hope you like it:)

CHAPTER 11

I'd lingered as long as I dared in that tree. Vera had risen before dawn and crept to the kitchen. She'd shaken the old grounds out of her coffee pot and put a fresh pot on the stove to start the day. It was ready by the time her husband woke, its bitter pungency offending my nose even from afar. She'd handed him a steaming mug, her fingers lingering on his strong hand, caressing it, before he broke the moment by taking the cup to his lips. Even then, his eyes never left hers.

I couldn't bear their familiarity, but I couldn't wrench myself away until I heard the sound of the milk truck rattling down the street.

When I got to the Cullen house, Esme was sitting in the parlor. In her lap was a neat pile of socks and woolen gloves she'd planned to darn.

Esme and Carlisle always felt guilty that they had to turn away the out-of-work beggars who turned up regularly at their doorstep, asking for food and shelter, so they'd taken to keeping practical gifts on hand; something to give away in compensation for the men's dashed hopes. Since Esme liked needlework, she often worked over cast-offs Carlisle was able to buy in second-hand stores downtown.

She'd made no progress tonight, though. Precious little had been transferred to her pile of completed work. I looked at her guiltily, knowing she'd been preoccupied, waiting for me.

"Edward tells me you had a successful evening," she began, cautiously.

I nodded, not sure what to say. The horrific scene I'd left behind me seemed far away, like a dream now. I was a little ashamed to admit what I'd done.

She continued, searching me with her wide, golden eyes. "He also told me you felt a little…confused after."

I looked at the floor. Could no one keep a secret in this house?

"Rosalie?" she prompted, waiting for a response.

"Yes, ma'am," I said between gritted teeth.

She looked at me with concern. "Would you like to discuss it with me? I'd be happy to listen," she added, setting aside her work and patting the space next to her on the settee.

I dragged myself over and sat down. I wasn't much in the mood to talk.

"So. You were confused." She waited expectantly, her eyes seeming to vibrate with intensity. She was wearing me down.

I nodded. "I thought I'd feel different after. It just wasn't what I expected."

"How?" she asked, her brow wrinkling.

I sighed, "Oh, Esme, you wouldn't understand."

She smiled wryly. "I might understand more than you think. You know, I wasn't always a vampire."

I rolled my eyes. "No!" I muttered sarcastically.

She ignored my outburst and continued, keeping my eyes squarely in her gaze. "My life as a human didn't end like Edward's did, in illness, nor like Carlisle's, with a violent attack by one of our kind. I tried to end my own life, Rosalie, and I would have succeeded if it hadn't been for Carlisle."

I clamped my mouth shut in surprise. I had not expected such a revelation from Esme. She seemed so perfect. So…untouched by the world around her.

If she noticed my surprise, she didn't show it, but continued on with her story.

"I was married, Rosalie. My husband hurt me. Innumerable times; too many ways to count. After our baby died, I couldn't take it any more. So I ended it the only way I could think of.

I can't read your mind like Edward, but I remember there was many a night back then when I would lie awake thinking that it was somehow my fault that this had happened. My fault that he would hit, and kick, and…worse. But it wasn't my fault. And I proved stronger than him, in the end, for I am still here, and he is gone."

She stopped speaking but kept her eyes locked on mine.

"I feel so…" I whispered.

She laid a hand on mine. "You're just as beautiful, inside and out, as before. What they did can't change that."

I closed my eyes, wishing for the solace of tears. I blinked the wish away.

"Did you ever go back? To get him back for what he'd done to you?"

"No," she answered, her gentle voice like balm to my hurting soul. "I think I was just so relieved to be rid of him, so delighted to find myself a new life, that I didn't feel compelled to seek revenge. My life with Carlisle and Edward has been so fulfilling, Rosalie, I didn't need to go back.

"I know it is different for you. You were happy in your old life, before all this happened. But the end result can be the same. You can still find love and companionship and all the things you wanted out of your human life, if you just give it time."

"Not all the things I wanted," I said dully. For a split second, she winced. If I hadn't had my vampire sight, I would have missed it.

"No, you will not bear children," she said sadly, squeezing my hand. "And neither will I. But maybe we can still have a family that we love."

I held onto her hand like a dog on a bone. I wanted, so desperately, to believe what she said. But how could love grow in a heart that had gone still?

"I thought I'd feel better after I'd killed him tonight," I confessed in a whisper. "But I didn't. I just felt sad."

"I thought you might. Revenge won't change what happened."

My logical mind jumped to its lawyerly response. "But he deserves to die for what he did to me! They all do!"

Esme smiled the rueful smile of experience. "Perhaps. But when you have finished with them, you will still be left with an eternity of yourself. You will still need to get over what they did to you."

Panic raced through me. "What if I can't, Esme?" I searched her eyes for reassurance and she squeezed my hand more tightly.

"You have to, Rosalie."

We sat there on the settee, watching the morning sun cast its brilliance over the snow outside, for a long time.

"What will you do?" she eventually asked.

"I don't think I can rest until I have seen it through. I can't just let them get away with it, Esme."

She held my hand a while longer, staring out the window. "Will you be going to Atlanta, then?"

I nodded. Edward must have told her everything. "I'm afraid to go, though. I've never been there. I've never been out of Rochester at all. And he's the one who…who started it all. He egged Royce on. I'm not sure if I can control myself."

"You must and you will," she said, her eyes flashing as she turned to face me, her voice taking on a stern edge. "Atlanta is quite far, Rosalie, and the coven there does things a little bit differently than we do up North. You'll have to be careful. And you must be certain that you can control yourself if you choose to go there. If things don't go as planned, there will be little we can do to protect you."

I gulped, wondering what exactly it was that made the South so different from the North. Esme composed her face into a mask of calm and rose from the sofa, patting my head tenderly and with regret.

"Carlisle will be able to help you plan your journey. You're a strong woman, Rosalie. If anyone can do this, it is you. I just wish you didn't have to."

I felt my throat constricting with alarm. "You're coming with me, aren't you?"

She shook her head sadly.

"But one of you will?" I insisted, clutching at her arm.

"We can't, Rosalie. If we all go, the coven will think we are attacking them and we may never make it out of the city. Even a pair of us would make them nervous. No, if you must kill this man, you must do it alone." She pried my fingers from her and looked coolly into my eyes.

With a slight squeeze of my hand, she turned and disappeared upstairs, leaving me alone to wonder if I was doing the right thing after all.