"Gran?" Bella called as she opened her front door.
"I'm in here," was her reply. Her voice was coming from the kitchen table, but the lights were out all through the house. "Shh. Don't wake your father."
Bella walked lightly to the kitchen and started to turn on the lights, but was quickly told not to.
"I've got it covered," Violet said, lighting one candle and then another. There was a bowl of water on the table between the candlesticks.
"Gran – you won't believe what…"
"I already know everything," she said; she sounded frustrated.
"I'm not sure what step to take next. Everything went so wrong tonight. It was terrible."
"Let's focus on the future and not the past," Violet said seriously, and then she chuckled. "Ironically enough, however, your future is the past. Now come – give me your hands."
Bella placed her hands in Violet's and was immediately started by the feel of them.
"Gran! What is the matter with your hands?" They seemed to be fading in some way, and Bella instinctively tried to pull hers away, but Violet held them securely in her own.
"Don't let go," she said. "There isn't much time. I must let you know all that I am allowed to reveal to you before all is lost entirely. I've brought you something. It's in my bag next to my chair. Look through it when our conversation is finished."
"Okay," Bella agreed. "I will."
"Now, listen very carefully. I can only tell you this once: Your Wolves are not well, Bella. They are in very serious danger. Eventually, more boys will change to compensate for the ones that will die tonight."
"Die?"
"Just listen, child. There is something you can do. If more boys change into Wolves, they will attack the Cullen family, but they will be slaughtered. Eventually every thing like the Cullens will come and hunt down every Quileute descendant, and they will all be slaughtered. It's not that the Cullens will initiate the counter-attack, but they have many friends who will believe that they are doing that family a favor. So many people will die, and that's what you're here to stop."
"Why was I sent here at all?" Bella asked. "It's because of me that all of this got started."
"War between the clan and the tribe would have broken out eventually."
"How can I save Jake and the other boys?"
"It's your blood, Bella. It's always been magical. It's in all of our family, whether we realize this fact or not. Some generations choose to ignore their special gifts and it is for this reason that my son is not able to hear the waters calling to him. There is nothing he can do to prevent war from breaking out."
A chill ran up Bella's spine, for indeed, she had heard the waters calling to her just earlier.
"What do the waters want from me? What must I do?"
"The waters are where our line of magic comes from, in a way. It was that magic that sent you here to prevent the eventual bloodshed."
"I thought the waters sent me here to fall in love with Edward again."
"And so you have. And he has fallen in love with you too. But time has reached a point where this thing must be asked of you. I'm sorry it must be this way."
"What way?"
"The magic that runs through your blood must be given to the Tribe to save them."
"How do I give it to them?"
"Spill it on their grounds."
"How much of it?"
Violet's hands began to fade even more, and Bella hung on to her grandmother very tightly, but the harder she squeezed her hands, the more they felt like they would disappear altogether.
"All of it," Violet stated very matter-of-factly.
"To die?" Bella asked. "And what of you? How will you come into the picture if not for Edward and I marrying and…"
"I'm willing," she said. "I must be willing. This is a noble thing. And I will always know that somewhere, in some time somehow, I lived a long and happy life. I will know that a granddaughter was sent to me who made me very proud in accomplishing this very brave thing."
"And somewhere, in some time and somehow, I lived too. Was I happy, Gran? When I died, I mean… was I a happy woman?"
"You were happy all the days I knew you, sweetheart. You have always been a kind and noble soul, and that's how I know you will do this thing that is right."
"I'm so sorry I failed so miserably."
"There is no measure of success or failure, dear. It's all only ever been a matter of doing the right things for the greater good. That is what our family has always been about. We sacrifice and go unnoticed while we do so. Your father, for instance – no wonder he is the Chief of Police in these parts. I know you weren't around when you were younger, and I'm sorry you never got to see your father put in such tireless, self-sacrificing effort. But even if he doesn't recognize his magic, he does respond to the call of working hard for the greater good of all these people. That is what you must do too."
"I wish things could turn out differently," Bella said, starting to cry. "I know I've lived a life of love before, but I don't remember it. I can feel it when I'm around Edward, but I can't remember our life together at all. I feel as though I've never had the chance to live that life and now I'm afraid that I never will."
"It is a lot to sacrifice; I know it." The matter that made up her hands were even thinner now, and Bella's fingers slipped through her hands as if she was now nothing more than a ghost – or a shadow with a face.
"Will I ever see you again?" Bella asked.
"I know you will. Somehow, you will."
"But how do you know?"
"Fate has chosen to keep us together – to put us together again, you and I. Maybe she still has plans for the two of us? You never know."
Bella tried to smile, hoping that what Violet was suggesting could be true.
"I hope Fate will always bring us together."
"I love you, dear one."
"I love you too."
Then Violet faded away entirely, and the bowl of water was empty. Wax was dripping down the candles, and Bella blew out the flimsy flames before grabbing the bag Violet told her of and heading out of the kitchen. On the way to the stairs, Bella peeked out of the window only to find that her Grandmother's car was no longer parked in the driveway.
Bella ran up to her room and searched the bag only to find an old photo album. Many of the slick pages were pictureless, but who would place blank prints in an album? Others only showed landscapes or had one or two people in them, but the way the people were placed suggested that others from the photos had vanished as Violet had.
Bella tossed the album on her bed, realizing that she couldn't postpone her duty to think about what she ought to do. She already knew what must be done.
She ran down the stairs, grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and then ran out the door to the truck. She fired it up immediately and headed straight for Quileute territory. The truck lurched to a stop in front of Jake's house and she left the knife sitting on the passenger seat. She didn't even bother knocking on the door, but just barged right in to Billy's surprise.
"Bella," he said, startled.
The boys/Wolves looked to be in no better condition than they had been in when she and Carlisle left.
"You are stubborn," she hissed at Billy. "Just look at them! Now, I don't know what is going on with this contract of yours, but I can see you are not willing to have your pride hurt by releasing that family from whatever obligation you feel they are under."
"You're meddling in things you don't understand, girl."
"Shut it, Billy. Let me finish," she huffed back. She wasn't going to be intimidated by this man, especially if she was just about to give up her own life and all because he was too much of a stubborn ass to fix things himself. "You're right that I don't understand. And I will never understand you. I don't see how you can allow your own son to die like this!"
"He isn't going to die," Billy argued, but Bella could discern the worry in the man's face; especially in his eyes. It was clear to her that he understood very well that his son – and these other boys – could very well die tonight.
"As far as I'm concerned, you are responsible for whoever dies tonight."
She didn't let him in on the fact that she would be the one dead come morning. Instead, she stormed out and pulled the knife from her truck, then started walking aimlessly.
The wind blew through her hair and she started crying. She didn't want to die…
Meanwhile, as soon as Bella had left, Edward showed up at Bella's house. He'd climbed through her window, which had become quite the regular routine. He was disconcerted when he found that she wasn't sleeping in her bed as he had planned.
No, he didn't find Bella in her bed, but he did find the album.
"What's this?" he wondered out loud to himself.
He opened to the first page to find a picture of Bella in a lovely gown and a half-faded picture of himself in a tux. One of the names scribed underneath had faded so that he could only tell that it said "… and Edward Cullen." He looked through the rest of the photos, finding many blank ones as Bella had.
As he was turning the pages, his finger grazed across one of the papers in such a way as to give him a paper cut. Red blood oozed slowly from the tip of his finger and smeared across the page.
"Blood?" he asked himself out loud. He was startled by the sight of it, and by the fact that it smelled like nothing at all to him.
He turned back to the first photo again only to find his own name half faded and Bella's picture almost entirely gone too.
He didn't understand why there was a picture of them and why they were fading, but he knew something was wrong. He could sense that much, at least.
Immediately he wondered if Bella had returned to the Reservation. His instinct told him to go there, but he knew he would cause trouble by crossing onto the Wolve's lands uninvited.
He dropped the album back where he found it, and then turned to pace the room for a moment. After a great deal of debating in his head what he should do, he came to a decision when he turned back around only to find that the album had disappeared.
He jumped out the window, landing gracefully on his feet. He didn't bother getting into his car, but ran straight toward the Reservation. He'd crossed the borders and then regretted not taking his car as his brow began to sweat, and he slowed down tremendously. Suddenly, he felt tired from all of the running.
Edward didn't know where Bella was exactly, but he could feel something calling to him in a way. It was the same thing that was calling to Bella at that moment.
Scarlett, a soothing voice came from the ocean. Scarlett, return home now.
"Home?" Bella asked. "Where is home."
Come back to the water.
Bella grabbed the knife firmly, hoping that by pretending to be brave, she actually would be; however, it never came to that. She felt cowardly and wanted to drop the knife and go home to her warm bed. But how long would she last here? When would she disappear like Grandmother Violet? She knew in her heart that it was only a matter of time before Charlie faded, and then her…
"This is so hard to do," she cried to the air and the waves. "This is so hard…"
She sobbed openly, still clenching the knife in her hand, and then she walked into the water until it reached the top of her knees.
"Bella?"
It was another voice, and not from the sea. She turned around.
"Edward?"
"Bella, what are you doing?" He noticed the knife in her hand right away.
"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, and she began to slide the tip of the knife down her wrist. There would be nothing he could do to save her in time.
"Bella!" he screamed.
He ran to her and caught her before she could fall into the water face-first. He held her in his arms as the blood drained from her arm.
He pulled the sleeve off of his shirt and tried to bandage her arm, but even with all the pressure he could apply it would be no use. The cut was too deep and she'd already lost so much blood.
"I love you," he whimpered.
"I'm so happy you said that," she said with a weak smile, "Because I wanted to tell you that I love you too."
"Why did you do this thing?" he moaned into her hair. "Why did you do this?"
She pushed her ear to his chest and realized that his heart was not beating, and then she began to cry again.
"There is no hope," she moaned. "Was there never any hope for us? For you to remember me?"
"To remember you?" he asked.
She was very weak now, and unable to remember why she was crying. Her vision was blurring and she slumped over, losing all control of her legs.
"Bella," he shouted, hoping she would come to, but he knew she was gone now.
He picked her up and then bent down to reach into the water. He searched for a moment until he found the knife, then he picked it up, pricking the side of his hand at first, causing it to bleed.
He lay his one true love down on the beach, then felt the prick of tears forming in his eyes. He began to breathe heavily, as one would when panicking. He felt his heart beat heavily – a sound he hadn't heard in nearly a hundred years, and then the waters called to him too.
Edward, they lulled, soothing him for half a second.
After hearing his own name calling him, he then remembered Bella's true name.
"Scarlett," he cried over her body, hoping the mere mention of her name would somehow bring her back to him. "Please, don't let it be too late! Scarlett!"
She didn't move. She wasn't coming back to him.
"Then I must come to you."
He listened to his heart drumming away in his chest, and he hated the way it sounded without her in his life. He hated his heart beating and hers being silent. He held the knife high, knowing that he would have to have as much force as he could muster as he did what he knew he must do to see Scarlett again.
Without hesitation, he brought the knife down quickly, stabbing himself through his heart.
He coughed out a painful cry and then fell to his side next to her, and he slowly waited to die. He didn't concentrate on how much he hurt, or on how his heart rate sped up before it decelerated entirely. He didn't bother looking down at all of the blood leaking from his body, and so he never saw how it looked black against the sands in the moonlight.
All he focused on was the hope of seeing her again.