I'm sorry for the delay since the last chapter. I got ill and then I was visiting my best friend for her birthday…

But, don't worry, we're almost all wrapped up with The Rain Song and I'm already plotting my next multi-chapter work.

(Who knew writing fic was so addicting!)

And, thank you, again, for all of your kind reviews! I really do appreciate them and YOU for sticking with me as I find my fic-writing voice. This has been a really fun journey for me.

Anyways, enough of me yapping—on with the show!

Part of the dream sequence is adapted from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland."

***

I lay silently in bed but every heartbeat carried the word I'd been hiding from myself and the Cullens: freedom. I tried to focus on Edward's room—on staying in Edward's room—but my heart continued to beat. So, to still my mind, I counted my heartbeats—one, two, three…thirty—by the time I got up in the hundreds, my eyes felt heavy again and I drifted back into an anxious sleep.

'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!' and the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on. I started to my feet, for I'd never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, I ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the towering spruce tree.

'Wait!' I yelled. 'Late for what?' And I ran to follow him, crushing moss and leaves underfoot. I crouched down and stuck my head inside the hole. Looking back at me were two red eyes. A cold hand snaked out and grabbed my arm.

'Bella, you'll be too late.'

I couldn't move or speak. I was frozen.

'Bella, listen to me—'

It was—I opened my eyes.

Rosalie glittered in the sunlight filtering through the windows. She was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Bella," she said calmly. "Would you like to go shopping?"

"Shopping?" I asked, sitting up. Was this really the time for that?

"Yes, shopping. You and me—alone." Rosalie stood up and walked towards the door. "I think we'll go to the big mall, the one that's on the way to Seattle."

My foggy brain slowly whirred to life and I nodded.

"Meet me downstairs in 15 minutes," Rosalie said over her shoulder. "And don't bring anything."

I was ready in 10, too tense to do much more than wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into my favorite jeans, a clean tank top, and my red hoodie. I hated to leave my books and things but it would look suspicious if I left the house with my backpack. After a few seconds of indecision, I shoved the book of Quileute legends into the pocket of my sweatshirt—to 'read in the car,' in case anyone asked. And then, with a final look around Edward's room, I shut the door and went downstairs.

Esme was in the living room, standing at the window. The sunlight filtered through the trees outside and the play of shadow and sparkle on her face and arms made her appear unhuman, which, of course, she was.

But her face was kind as she turned to face me. "So, Bella, Rosalie says she is taking you shopping."

I answered and it wasn't even a lie. "Yes. I wanted something."

"Well, then, I suppose this is good-bye." And she was right in front of me, her cold hands on my shoulders. "I'll miss your company around the house today. It does get so lonely here. In all our houses—"

"I'll be back," I said, but I think we both knew it wasn't true.

"Rosalie is waiting for you outside," said Esme. She gave me a kiss on the forehead, her icy lips feather light against my skin but the chill reached my toes. Esme dropped her hands and I took a step back.

"Good-bye, Esme."

Her haunted smile swam before my eyes all the way to the front door. Poor Esme hadn't chosen this life, either. What had she been like as a human? Did she regret that she was unable to join her son in Heaven? If there was a Heaven—I wasn't so sure these days.

I pushed open the front door and stepped into the sunlight. The air was crisp and clean and took to my lungs like a bucket of soapy water to Charlie's kitchen floor. I could feel the fog lifting. I could feel the—three sharp blasts of the horn interrupting my reverie.

Unafraid of tripping, I raced to the car and clambered in the passenger's seat. Rosalie was speeding out of the driveway before I could get my seatbelt buckled. Rosalie had the country station on and the windows down and we drove through Forks and out, down the highway.

I had assumed she'd take me directly to La Push but she didn't. I didn't know where we were going—was Rosalie really taking me shopping? It felt like I'd swallowed a block of ice. My throat went dry. "Rosalie? Where—" the words caught "—where are we going?"

She didn't turn down the music. "We are going to the mall, like I said before. That is where Alice will need to see us—so you had better decide on it."

"But I thought—"

"You thought!" Rosalie laughed, a melodious tinkle. "If you had thought we wouldn't be in this situation. But, as you assume, you will not be returning to my house. We are meeting somebody at the mall—a friend of yours who agreed to help."

Jacob! It had to be! He had forgiven me—I knew he wouldn't have held those things I said against me. The ice in my stomach melted and sparks of excitement took its place. In two hours—or less, seeing that Rosalie drove like the rest of the Cullens—I would see him. Rosalie cranked up the music, forestalling further conversation, and an hour and a half later, we pulled into the parking lot of the Marysville Mall.

"Are you ready?" Rosalie asked.

I nodded. I was.

"Well, then, let's go play secret agent," she said, stepping out of the car.

There were only a handful of shoppers but they all turned to look at Rosalie as we passed by. With her golden hair hidden under a silk scarf, her amber eyes behind a pair of large, round sunglasses, and wearing a tan raincoat in the milky sunlight, she looked like somebody. I looked like nobody and scurried in her wake.

We ended up in the ladies section of one of the big anchor department stores. Rosalie flitted through the racks of clothing, unselfconsciously picking up things here and discarding them there, until we ended up at the huge display of jeans along the back wall. A figure emerged from a nook in the wall off the right and I started but it was just a clerk, probably returning from break.

Rosalie began browsing the jeans, unfolding and refolding the size 8s and inspecting the fit. I began pacing, scanning the floor for that familiar smile, that familiar face, but the store was empty.

A warm hand caught my shoulder and butterflies exploded in my stomach. "Bella," said a low, growly voice and I turned around with a relieved grin. My face fell a little but only a little. Sam wasn't Jacob but he was my ticket home—to my real home.

Rosalie appeared by my side and nodded to Sam. "You came. I wasn't sure you would."

"Yes," he said, "I'll take her back to La Push, like I promised."

"And I will uphold my part of the agreement. My family will leave your land." Rosalie looked down almost wistfully at me. "Bella, I won't say it's been a pleasure, but I do wish you well in your life—live and die well. Both are important." She held out her hand and I shook it. It was cold.

She was gone.

I looked up at Sam's frozen face. He didn't meet my eyes. "Let's go, Bella. We have a long drive."

He wasn't lying. Sam spoke maybe four words to me the entire trip back to La Push – three of them in the parking lot ("Here's the car") and the fourth in response to my question to regarding the radio ("No"). I didn't try to ask anything else, figuring I could grill Jacob when I got back to La Push. I hoped he had forgiven me. I would make it up to him—all the awful things I said. We were friends and friends forgive each other.

Despite my hours of sleep the night before, I felt my eyelids getting heavy as the trees rushed past the window. I laid my head against the glass, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander. I had no idea how I was going to untangle the mess I'd gotten myself into. Charlie? School? I hadn't let myself think about them while I had been shut up in the Cullen's house but now. Well, I'd deal with those problems when the time came. My stomach growled and I realized I was hungry—genuinely hungry for the first time in days.

I opened my eyes, debating whether or not I dared ask Sam to stop a gas station for a snack, and saw that we'd missed the turn off to La Push. My hazy daydreams were pushed to the side, eclipsed by a slow burning panic as I glanced over at Sam's determined face.

"Where are we going?" I asked hesitantly.

"To meet with an old friend," he said.

"Who? Where?" My hands moved to unbuckle my seatbelt but Sam reached over with a heavy hand to stop me.

"You'll see when we get there." He stepped on the gas.

What could I do? I couldn't call on Edward now—if I did, I would never be free from him. Charlie couldn't help me. I had to trust Sam and pray that Jacob would explain everything. Sam was honorable—loyal. He'd found me in the lost in the woods once, he would never do anything to harm me. That's what I told myself.

Half an hour later, we pulled off onto an old logging road. The sun had retreated behind a growing cloud cover hours ago and when we entered the woods, the light grew even dimmer—a hazy gray. We drove on and on and the trees seemed to blend together forming an impenetrable green wall outside the car window.

Eventually, we arrived at a burned out old house, half hidden behind creeping moss. There was a blue pick up truck parked in front. Sam parked beside it.

"Get out."

I obeyed, clambering out of the car, half-ready to bolt even though I knew Sam would catch me.

And then Sam was on my right side and took a firm hold of my arm. We walked into the house together. The inside was a little less dilapidated than the outside, but not by much, and a strange chemically smell burned my nose. Empty soda bottles and bits of shiny metal scraps littered the floor. I felt Sam shudder in disgust. He didn't want to be here any more than I did.

"I know you're here!" Sam called out after we'd stood there for a few minutes. I heard shuffling noises from the back room and a man emerged, Indian, with two long black braids. He was wild-eyed, and I gave a sharp inhale of breath. I remembered him—Arnold.

"So, to what do I owe this visit—business or pleasure?" Arnold gave me a leering wink and I moved closer towards Sam.

"Where is she?" demanded Sam.

"Ah, well, she comes and goes as she pleases," Arnold seemed to be in no hurry to offer up any information of value. "I'll tell her you were looking for her, though—"

Sam dropped my arm and moved to loom menacingly over Arnold. "That's not good enough. We had an agreement—a trade—and I want what's mine." He leaned down to speak directly into Arnold's ear. "Tell me where she is." Each syllable struck like a knife—I was the trade.

My feet began moving backwards on their own volition but Sam heard me move and growled low under his breath. I stopped.

Arnold coughed and drew Sam's attention back. "Alright, Uley, don't get your panties in a bundle. I can take you to her."

Sam rammed Arnold up against the wall, his massive forearm pinning down Arnold's chest. "You had better not be lying to me." Sam drew his index finger down Arnold's chest and over his stomach, stopping just above his groin. "Or I will chew open your gut and frolic in your intestines like a goddamned puppy dog. Do you understand me?"

Arnold nodded, fear creeping onto his face for the first time. "Sure, sure. We can go right now."

Sam took a step back, his face still impassive but his eyes were manic when they met mine. "We're going for a walk, Bella. You like that, don't you? The woods?"

I'm not proud to admit that my knees buckled. I went tumbling towards the ground but Sam caught me before I cracked my head. "Poor, weak Bella. I'll carry you if I have to," Sam taunted. He threw me over his shoulder, my head grazing the moldering ceiling.

The three of us headed off into the woods behind the house and I watched it retreat into the distance, swallowed up by the vegetation. I thought I caught sight of a pair of black eyes in a sad face staring at me from the back window but when I looked again, they were gone. I frantically scanned the woods for something—anything—that could help me. I don't even know what I was looking for. Guns don't exactly grow on trees, not that a gun would be of any use against a werewolf. Or a vampire.

Panic heightened my senses. I felt every bump as Sam trudged along behind Arnold, leading us deeper and deeper in the forest. It occurred to me that maybe I should be leaving a trail, in case somebody was following. A vague memory from "The Two Towers" rose up—Merry and Pippin captured by orcs. They had dropped a broach. I didn't wear jewelry but—

I wiggled a bit on Sam's shoulder.

"What!" he barked.

"I have to pee," I whined.

"Now?"

"Well I could just do it on you—" And Sam flung me down and I landed hard on my butt.

"Behind those trees. And I'm listening so don't try anything funny."

I stood up on shaky legs and stumbled behind the trees Sam had indicated. Holding on to the mossy trunk of the closest one, I unzipped my jeans and pulled them down, my underwear, too. I squatted and tried to pee. I couldn't remember drinking anything that day but, thankfully, my bladder cooperated and while I peed, I carefully took my book out of my sweatshirt pocket and placed it on the ground. If somebody (Jake) was tracking me, they would find it and hopefully know I was okay—at least so far. The mechanics of peeing in the woods are not easy for those of us who are female, but fortunately, I had a crumpled tissue in my pocket to use as toilet paper. I pulled my underwear and pants back on and walked back around the trees to Sam and Arnold.

Sam yanked me up and threw me over his shoulder again and we continued on. It grew darker and darker as we ventured further and colder, too. I could feel the chill in the air against my face but Sam was warm, like Jacob, and despite everything, I snuggled in. Darker and darker—it began to drizzle. My legs were cramped, my fingers ached, and just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take it anymore, we stopped.

"We're here," said Arnold, unnecessarily. He was out of breath.

"In there?" asked Sam, dubiously. He put me down and my legs collapsed beneath me. The world spun around me and when it stabilized all I could see was a cave. And staring out at me from inside it—a pair of red eyes.