A/N: Thank you to Withthevampsofcourse and Oxymoronic8 for betaing—they're both made of awesome.

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter, even though I'd been gone for months and months. It was such a warm and fuzzy feeling to see so many familiar names still reading (and some new names, too!).

Chapter 20

Monday, October 29, 2007

This was not a normal job.

Over the past six months, I'd been apprenticed with Heidi. Aro called it learning how to ask questions. I called it sneaking information out of people.

We wore designer clothes paid for by Volterra, Inc. We ate meals so expensive that they cost more than I spent at the grocery store in an entire month. It was uncomfortable in the extreme, at first. Volterra had all this money, and they were having Heidi and I spend it on clothes and food? Eventually, I became inured to the dollar signs. No matter how much something cost, Heidi would wave her shiny black credit card and it was ours.

What did we have to do in return for this largesse? We talked to people; a lot of people. Most of the people we talked to were guests of Volterra, flown in from all over the world to visit. Some of the people were not guests of Volterra, and they didn't know they would be talking to us until we approached them. Those conversations made me most uncomfortable, but Heidi never batted an eye.

We weren't doing anything illicit or illegal. Aro gave us goals, a list of bullet points relating to interesting information our targets would have, and then we tried to find out the information. It seemed impossible in the beginning, but Heidi was magic. I became convinced that if someone knew something, they would spill it. All we did was talk to people, entertain them—occasionally we would go on outings with them to places like the symphony—and people would tell us things. Afterwards, I would write up a report for Aro and turn it in the next morning.

Did people know that we were talking to them with the purpose of gaining information? I was never sure. I asked Heidi, and she said of course they did. I asked Aro, and he told me I was smart enough to figure it out myself.

I wasn't sure why I was being apprenticed to Heidi. I could never be as attractive as she was, and I couldn't imagine that I would ever be as flirtatious, either. Old or young, handsome or ugly, male or female—Heidi charmed them all. I was plain. Where Heidi's hair was lustrous mahogany, mine was brown. Her eyes were like sweet iced tea on a summer's day. Mine were brown. Her skin was golden and glowy, where mine was white and boring. There were no similarities I could detect.

Today, it was my turn to take the lead. My heart was in my throat. Heidi was around for backup if I goofed, but I was supposed to do this on my own. I waited for the target to come into range, and then I dropped my briefcase.

The papers scattered everywhere, and I pretended they were important. As expected, the target helped me pick up the papers. From there, we struck up a conversation.

Maybe I could do this after all.

Monday, August 1, 2008

I thought the dress shop would be snooty. Granted, Esme wanted to have a dress made for me, so obviously it wouldn't be snooty enough for her. And neither Alice nor Rosalie had had dresses off-the-rack, so Esme was determined I wouldn't, either.

I refused to visit with a designer to be fitted for something custom. It was my first time saying no to Esme, and I was a little surprised I succeeded. Without missing a beat, she informed me I was the bride, and we would do it my way. Alice pointed out privately that trying on dresses was the first step to deciding on something custom, so I shouldn't consider it a victory yet.

For her younger son's wedding, Esme had already put down deposits for three florists, and she had reserved an entire swanky hotel downtown for the night of June 20, 2009. We were to be married on the top floor with a view of the entire city surrounding us.

I had mixed feelings about the wedding. In all the mess of wedding planning and shopping and putting down deposits, it was easy to believe this was real life. I no longer felt like I was living a lie. I was secure in Edward's love. We spent our nights discovering secrets about each other. His family encircled me like a security blanket. It was easy to forget all this was fake.

"Psst," Alice whispered in my ear.

I jumped, having forgotten I had an audience. I was letting my love for Edward make me careless. "What?" I whispered back. "And why are we whispering?"

"Because you looked too serious for me to use a normal voice."

"Sorry. I have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Like thinking about how real this wedding is becoming." That wasn't a lie. For a fictional event, the wedding was taking on a life of its own.

"Are you excited to try on dresses?" Alice was practically vibrating with excitement.

I eyed baby Joshua, wrapped tightly against her in a sling. I had no idea how he could possibly sleep when Alice was so effervescent, but he did. He even gave a little snore, as though to prove his contentment.

"Well? Are you?" Alice demanded when I didn't answer quickly enough.

I gave her a guarded smile. "I'm excited about the idea of having forever with Edward." Or at least I would be, if it were possible.

We stepped into the shop, and I was taken aback. I expected the shop to be posh, but instead it was homey. The only indication this was a store worthy of patronage by Alice and Esme was a sign just inside the door in handwritten calligraphy, indicating that prospective brides were seen by appointment only.

The front room was empty. Alice walked in directly and rang a small hand bell that sat upon a side table. The bell let out soft, tinkling notes that filled the room.

A couple moments later, a young woman opened a set of French doors and walked in.

She smiled widely at us. "Hello. You must be Alice. What a beautiful baby you have."

Alice beamed at her. "He is, isn't he?"

She turned her smile to me. "And you must be Bella, our bride."

Her words should have struck fear and paranoia into my heart, but her smile was genuine and more than a little contagious.

"Your mother-in-law-to-be is already here, enjoying a cappuccino in the back. May I bring either of you anything?"

"Water for me," Alice said.

"I'm fine."

"This way, ladies."

We went back through the French doors and into a room filled with dresses. Esme was seated on a couch in the middle of the room, nibbling biscotti.

We each hugged her in turn, and Esme cooed a bit over Joshua. I wasn't sure what the procedure was at a dress store like this, so I hovered a bit until it was clear I was supposed to sit down.

The young woman who greeted us introduced herself as Margaret. She sat with us and initiated a discussion about my wedding vision. Since I had no vision, Esme and Alice did most of the talking. After ten or fifteen minutes of chatting, Margaret disappeared. When she returned, she informed us someone was pulling appropriate dresses for me so that I could start trying things on in a room.

Margaret led me into a fitting room large enough to house a loveseat, two armchairs, side tables, a three-way mirror, and plenty of room to hang prospective dresses. There was already a white dress waiting for me.

"Did you bring any special shoes you would like to wear?"

"Shoes?" Why would I bring shoes? I was here to try on dresses.

Sensing my confusion, Margaret hastily added, "Some ladies have the shoes they want to wear picked out before they try on dresses. Some just want to wear heels when they try on the dress. If you'll tell me your shoe size, I can bring you some white heels to wear."

"Size seven."

"And are you wearing a strapless bra?"

I blushed and shook my head. I apparently had no idea what was involved in trying on dresses.

"I can pull one for you from our lingerie store."

I told her my size, and she returned with both shoes and a bra.

We started with the dress on the hanger. It was a size 6, and although it didn't fit perfectly, it fit well enough for me to have an idea what it would be like in my size. I managed to maintain my calm while Margaret helped me into the dress and zipped it for me.

Esme and Alice were escorted in, and they oohed and ahhed at all the appropriate moments as I twirled for them.

Everything went well until I stepped up onto the platform to view myself in the three-way mirror. I had no veil, but it didn't matter. I looked like a bride. The white, A-line, strapless dress in silk satin with beaded embroidery made me look like I was stepping out of the pages of a bridal magazine.

The corners of my eyes prickled. I was not a bride. I was never going to be a bride. I could dream and dream of a future with Edward, but it would never happen. Ever. I took a deep breath and tried to hold the tears at bay. I will not cry.

Esme's eyes were keen, and she was at my side immediately. "Bella, sweetheart, whatever is the matter?"

I sniffled. I could have stopped the tears if not for Esme's kindness and concern. The waterworks opened, and tears streamed down my cheeks. There was nothing I could say, and the tears wouldn't stop. I cried harder.

Margaret handed me a box of tissues and then promptly disappeared back through the French doors. Esme led me back over to the couch and pulled me down next to her. She stroked my hair with her hand, and I let myself lean into the love and protection I didn't deserve. She didn't ask me again what was wrong, and for that I was grateful.

Alice patted my head and then announced she needed to go feed Joshua.

Esme and I were alone in the room of the bridal store, surrounded by white dresses, sitting on a lavender chenille divan. The tears went on for several embarrassing minutes before I could pull things together enough to dry my eyes and blow my nose.

"I know it must be hard to try on wedding dresses without your mother."

That thought had never occurred to me, and it brought with it a fresh round of tears. If Mom were alive, if she could have seen me now, what would she have said? She'd be upset that I got involved with the Volturi. She'd be worried. She'd freak out that I fell in love with someone rich, because she was suspicious of people with money. Her philosophy: There are only so many ways you end up with money, and none of them are pretty. But maybe, maybe she'd see how much I loved Edward and she'd be happy for me. I missed her so much.

"I can never take your mother's place, Bella, but I will love you like my own. I hope you know that. If you ever need a friendly ear or even just a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you." Esme's hands continued their gentle stroking of my hair, and I found myself relaxing minutely.

I took in a great shuddering breath. And then another. "Thank you," I said at last.

"Do you want to go home? If this isn't enjoyable…"

"I'll be okay." And I would be okay, if I could get out of reality and back into the pretend land where this wedding was real.

With an enviable sixth sense, Margaret materialized with a cup of chamomile tea and a scone. She also brought cucumber slices, which seemed like an odd choice, but their clean, crisp crunch was somehow comforting. As I ate the first one, Esme looked like she wanted to say something, but then she just patted me on the shoulder and smiled.

Alice came back with an alert baby in her arms. His eyes wandered around the room, and his tiny feet kicked while she held him in the crook of her arm.

"What did I miss?" Alice asked.

"Nothing. I'm about to go for round two." I forced a smile.

I pulled the bacon-wrapped asparagus out of the oven and started to plate it. The crudités were on the counter. The lasagna went into the oven. I poured the red wine into a decanter and started chopping things for the salad. The dough for the Parker House rolls had doubled in size and was ready to be punched down and shaped. Everything in the kitchen was moving along smoothly, but I was still unsettled.

I heard Edward come in, but I didn't turn around. It was much easier to shape my rolls into little clovers than it was to tell him about my day. I could hear his footsteps in the house as he approached the kitchen. The footsteps stopped at the doorway.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice low.

I looked up from my rolls then and made brief eye contact. "It was fine."

"Oh?" His eyes took in the appetizers, the wine, and the mess of dishes that hadn't made it to the dishwasher yet. "You've outdone yourself for dinner."

"Don't be silly."

"Bella, if that's lasagna in the oven, there's enough food here to feed a party of eight."

"The leftovers will be good tomorrow."

"What happened today?"

I looked at him, and I couldn't look away, though my hands kept shaping rolls. There was no point in hiding anything from him. He knew me too well. That realization was both comforting and terrifying.

"The dress shopping was rough," I said. His obvious love for me was making it hard for me to be strong.

Edward hesitated. "What happened?"

"It's just," I paused, searching for words, "I looked like a bride."

"This won't last forever. When this is all over…" Edward's voice trailed off as he noticed my expression.

"I can't talk about it." We'd had this conversation before. Or, rather, I'd avoided this conversation before.

He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen until he stood behind me. He rested his hands on my hips, and it took all my concentration to keep working on the rolls.

"I don't want to be apart from you," he murmured in my ear.

I finished the last little clover, covered the rolls and pushed them aside. They needed to rise for a bit. I didn't turn around. Instead I let myself feel Edward's proximity.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to agree, to say I didn't want to be apart from him, either. The words stuck in my throat. They were true words, but saying them would give them power over me. I already had more than I ever hoped for or expected. What right did I have to ask for more?

Instead of answering him, I turned around and pressed my body against his. For a moment I worried he would push me away and demand we talk, but maybe he knew I couldn't handle it.

Wednesday & Thursday, September 3 – 4, 2008

"Should I get us another bottle?"

I giggled. We definitely didn't need another bottle of Cristal, but there was something so decadent about lounging by the pool on a sunny day, drinking chilled champagne.

Rose didn't wait for me to answer. Instead, she swung her long legs over the side of her chaise and unfolded her tall frame until she towered over me.

I shaded my eyes against the bright sun to look up at her.

"I can still stand," she said, "so we need more."

Part of me felt guilty we were wasting an entire afternoon drinking alcohol that cost more than a month's worth of groceries. But the other part of me was reveling in the decadence. Rosalie was good company; she'd lived more before she met Emmett than most people did in their whole lives. We'd laughed most of the afternoon away, and I was happy. She was happy, too. It wasn't often she took time out from being a mom.

I waited a couple of minutes for Rosalie, and then realized I had to pee. Best to get it over with before we got into that next bottle, right? Wrapping a beach towel snugly around my waist, I sauntered back to the house. I entered the house through the kitchen and heard voices in the front room.

My heart leapt to my throat and my alcohol buzz evaporated. There was a man talking to Rose. What was someone who wasn't Edward or Emmett doing in the house? I crept through the kitchen and peered around the corner, looking into the entryway. The man was Jason Jenks. He was here, chatting up Rose in her white bikini like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The pounding of my heart vibrated through my ears, and I couldn't hear anything they were saying. A million thoughts dashed through my head, but I couldn't focus on any of them. All I could feel was panic. Jason Jenks remembered me from somewhere, and now he was in Edward's house, making conversation with Rose. Was it my imagination, or were his eyes darting around the foyer, taking everything in?

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably five minutes, they stopped talking and Rose walked him to the door. Even when the door closed behind him, my heart did not calm down.

Rose saw me then and walked over to me. "Bella, are you okay? You look green."

I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. I had to act normally.

"What was that man doing here?" My voice was a little shaky, and it didn't sound like mine.

"Dropping something off for Edward, why?"

"Did you buzz him in?"

She looked at me funny. "Of course I did. I happened to be here when he came on the intercom, saying he had something for Edward."

"He could have been anybody!"

"You are one paranoid drunk. Everything is fine." Rose rolled her eyes. "He was at Edward's birthday party, remember?"

I bit my tongue. There was nothing I could say to Rose that would make any sense to her. From her perspective, I was being a psycho.

"What did he drop off for Edward?"

"Some art. It's over there."

It was in the corner of the foyer, a square, wooden box that was only a few inches deep. It was the right sort of container for a painting, but what if it wasn't a painting? What if it was a bomb or a poisonous gas or some kind of spying equipment?

Rose went back out to the pool with our new bottle of Cristal, while I checked the security cameras to make sure Jason Jenks was gone. When I felt sure of his absence, I ducked into to the bathroom like I had originally intended, splashed cool water on my face, and went back out to look at the package Jason had delivered.

If I opened it and it was nothing, no big deal. If I opened it and it was something dangerous, what then?

I called Edward, even though I hated myself for possibly endangering him. I didn't know what else to do. He told me not to touch it and said he'd be home in ten minutes.

It wasn't the longest ten minutes of my life, but each second stretched out like an eternity. All of my previous experiences with danger had only been about me, and sometimes Emmett, but this time Rose was outside and Edward was coming home. Either of them could be hurt, and it would all be because of me. I couldn't go back out to the pool and keep drinking Cristal like nothing had happened. If there were a bomb in the box, and it made some kind of beep or something, wouldn't it be better to be nearby?

Or maybe it would be better to be out of the house.

I hated not knowing. I hated the guilt that compromised my ability to think straight. Because if I'd been thinking, I would have called Emmett. Rose was here visiting, so it would be perfectly normal for Emmett to make a stop at the house.

I flipped open my phone and dialed Emmett's cell phone.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Bella." His voice would have sounded normal to most people, but I could hear the undercurrent of tension.

"Are you busy?" I was suddenly hesitant to reveal everything. What if he was angry with me for endangering his wife… and his brother and his children and his whole family? I am a horrible person.

"I'm never too busy to talk to you. What's up?"

"Can you come over? There's a suspicious package in the foyer. Edward is on his way, but I'd feel better if you were here. Rosalie is here, too."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Rosalie's at the house?" At this point, anyone would have heard the tension in his voice.

"She is."

"Is everything okay?"

"I think so. But I'm a little paranoid-"

He cut me off. "I'll be right there."

Edward arrived first, his tires squealing in the driveway. The door into the house from the garage banged against the wall, and his feet pounded the floor as he dashed into the foyer. His hair was pointing in all directions, as if he had run his fingers through it repeatedly on the way home.

"You're safe," Edward said, drawing me into a rough embrace.

"Well, I didn't touch it." I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice. I was alive, but I wasn't safe. And now that Edward was here, he wasn't safe either. His arms were strong and comforting, but part of me was freaking out that we were both standing next to a possible bomb.

"I was so afraid it was a bomb that would go off before I reached you."

His calm tone should have relaxed me, but instead it had the opposite effect. "Do you know anything about bombs?"

"I know I want you out of the house while I move it outside."

"But…"

He covered my mouth with his and squeezed my shoulders. It felt a little desperate, and fear overwhelmed me that this might be the last time we ever kissed. I kissed him back as hard as I could. Too soon, he released me.

"You said Rose is by the pool?"

"Yes."

"If this is a bomb, the pool is the best place to put it. Why don't you get Rose, and you two can wait in the house?"

"Um, won't she be suspicious? And what if it's really art? Were you expecting art?"

"If it's art, then it will be ruined. Yes, I bought a painting, but it wasn't supposed to be delivered. I can buy another painting. I can't buy another you."

A pounding on the door made both of us jump.

"Go in the kitchen, Bella. I'll answer the door."

"It's probably Emmett. I called him after I called you."

Edward's eyebrows drew together for a split-second, and I had a moment of self-doubt.

"Should I not have called him? I thought maybe he knew more about bombs."

The pounding on the door started again.

"Into the kitchen, Bella."

I went into the kitchen, all the while sure it was Emmett. I mean, it had to be, otherwise he would have needed to be buzzed in. And criminals don't bang on doors. They break windows. Or shoot guns. I shuddered.

Voices in the foyer confirmed my suspicions. Emmett was here. Edward didn't sound thrilled to see him, either.

"Bella?" Rose cracked opened the door that led out to the back, and she stepped inside when she saw me. "Why are you still at the house? For a minute I thought you died or something."

I winced at her choice of words. "Well," I started, not sure what to tell her. Both of us heard the voices in the foyer.

"We have company?"

"Not exactly." There was no way to get around telling her Edward and Emmett were here at this point. I ought to have hustled her back to the pool before she could suspect something, but the alcohol was making it hard to concentrate. If we were all going to die, I didn't want my last action on earth to be lying to my friend.

"Is that Emmett?" Rose looked perplexed.

"Yes, and Edward's here, too."

Before I could finish, Rose was out of the kitchen and into the foyer to investigate with the hustle of someone who had no fear. I had a flicker of envy as I followed her. The scene that met us would have been comical if I hadn't been afraid for all our lives. Rose burst out laughing.

"What the hell are you guys doing down there?" she asked through guffaws.

The carton in question was lying flat on the floor. Edward was on the marble with his ear against the flat side, apparently listening for something. Emmett was kneeling down, aiming some kind of hand-held device at the carton, moving his arm back and forth over it.

It was a tribute to their dedication that they finished what they were doing before addressing Rose.

Emmett gave Rose a broad smile. "I guess we did look ridiculous, didn't we?"

"That's an understatement. What's all the fuss over that carton?"

"Edward made a couple of enemies, and we're being extra careful." Emmett sounded nonchalant, but the usual twinkle was missing from his eyes.

I could tell he was lying. Surely Rose could tell, too, but instead of grilling him, she said. "Is that all?" and then, toward Edward, she added, "Sometimes a picture is just a picture, dimwit."

No one said anything for several seconds, and then Rose turned to me. "I think we'll have to finish up our Cristal party another time, Bella. My buzz is ruined."

"You mean you don't want to hang out while there might be a bomb?" It was my feeble attempt at a joke.

"I should get back anyway, and my big lug of a husband can drive me home when this thing turns out to be a painting, just like Jason said it was." Rose tapped her foot, as though waiting for them to open it in front of her.

Edward and Emmett exchanged a long look, and then Emmett shrugged. Emmett took out a utility knife and sliced the ties. The box fell open, revealing a beautiful painting of a beach. All four of us stared at the picture. Without missing a beat, Emmett slid his fingers around the back of the painting. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he was purposeful in his actions.

"You're right, sweetheart," Emmett said. "It's clean."

Rose grabbed her bag, and she and Emmett departed, leaving Edward and me standing together in the foyer.

"You should get back to work," I told Edward, because I wanted to be alone.

"It's almost three." He hesitated, then added, "I don't want to be apart from you."

He pulled me to him, and I let myself be folded into his arms. His chin rested on my head, and he held me securely, but I didn't feel the same sense of safety that I had before. All of my feelings were a little bit tainted by a fear that his touch couldn't relieve.

"I was so afraid I would lose you," he murmured into my hair.

Edward led me up the stairs to the bedroom we shared, and we made love—him with fierce affection, and me with an abandon borne of desperation.

I loved him with all my heart.

And that was why I knew I needed to leave.

Edward wrapped his arms around me and drifted off to sleep. As he slept, his arm draped protectively over me. I should have been sleepy, but instead my brain buzzed with activity as I made my plan.

Edward would not want me to leave. That was a given. If I gave him one clue of my plan, he would stop it. That much I knew. Alice, Rose, and Esme all had to be in the dark as well. They would never understand, and I couldn't imagine putting them in danger by telling them the truth. And Emmett, well, he was going to take my flight personally, but there was nothing I could do about it.

So…

I didn't have a whole lot of options. I could leave and hide out until the trial, or I could stay and put an entire family that I had grown to love and think of as my own in danger.

I chose the first option.

Edward's arm tightened around me like a vise, and guilt surged through me to the point where I felt physically ill. He was going to be upset, but I hoped he would understand why I couldn't confide in him. He wanted to protect me, and I loved that about him, but no one could win against the Volturi. Eventually, something bad would happen. The only miracle was that nothing bad had happened yet. Since the incident with the painting, he had taken to holding me all night. Last night, I'd tried to extricate myself to go to the bathroom at five in the morning. It was so difficult, I ended up waiting until the alarm went off at six.

I swiveled my head to look at his face, so relaxed in the repose of sleep. It was hard to believe how rocky our beginning had been together. My thumb caressed the ring on my third finger, the ring he gave me that first night. It was an obscenely expensive ring, and I had been embarrassed to wear it at first. I could still remember him rattling off the ring's specs in that matter-of-fact tone, like it was no big deal to give someone a ring worth more than the sum of their possessions. At the time I couldn't understand why a fake ring wouldn't have been sufficient, but now I did. He knew we would need to act like the ring and the commitment were real.

But the commitment wasn't real, and I was glad at that moment. I had some wonderful memories, and if Edward had truly proposed to me, I wasn't sure I would have had the strength to leave.

I was at the breakfast table in my robe when Edward came downstairs into the kitchen. He had a charcoal suit on. His top shirt button was unbuttoned, and a tie hung around his neck. His hair was still damp from the shower. My eyes devoured him. Would I ever see him again?

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll never make it to work on time."

I forced a smile. "We can't have that, can we?"

Edward chuckled, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "At least grant me a kiss."

"With pleasure." I reached up and pulled his head to mine. His lips were warm and yielding, and felt like home.

It was a relief when Edward broke the kiss, because I could not have done it knowing it was our last.

When I saw the gate close behind his car, I started to pack. I was impetuous on occasion, but even I would never leave Edward's house with only the clothes on my back. Maybe once upon a time Marie might have fled in a panic without a plan of any kind, but I was more Bella than Marie these days, and I'd learned a few things Marie never knew. From Esme, I'd learned that there was a civilized way to do most anything, so I would definitely be packing a full suitcase of clothes. Alice didn't believe in going hungry, and so I would be taking food with me. Rosalie was smart, and I vowed to replace my motto of What Would Edward's Fiancée Do? with What Would Rosalie Do? while I was on the road. And Edward, well, I couldn't bear to think of him without crying, so I would save that reflection for later.

Bella Lawson had both a driver's license and a passport, but neither of those would do me any good. Whether the painting delivery was innocent or not, I was convinced the Volturi knew who I was. And for that reason, I needed to disappear for a while. I needed money to buy a fake ID. I wasn't sure how to buy one or from where, but that was a worry for another time.

I couldn't use the ATM to pull out cash, and I didn't carry cash in my wallet, but I did know the combination to Edward's safe. He had me store my passport there, and he gave me the combination in case I ever needed to access it.

I wouldn't be leaving the country, so I didn't need the it, but I did remember the stacks and stacks of cash in the safe.

My fingers trembled as I typed in the code.

It felt like I was stealing from Edward, and I hated that. But part of my brain kept rationalizing that Edward would want me to take the cash. He wouldn't want me living hand-to-mouth on the street as I waited for the trial. He would want me to be as safe as possible, wouldn't he? Or maybe he'll be so mad when he discovers I'm gone that he'll be angry.

I shook the thought away as I had my first WWRD moment. Rosalie would take the cash in a heartbeat. She wouldn't think twice, and she wouldn't feel guilty.

How much did I need? The money was bundled in stacks of twenties in what appeared to be thousand dollar increments. This was September; the trial was in February in North Carolina. I would need money for a plane ticket, for gas, for hotels, for fake IDs…

Behind the money, there was an envelope. I shouldn't have opened it, but in my defense, I was still operating in the Rosalie frame of mind. Inside were four U.S. passports. Two were for Edward, two were for me. Tucked inside each passport was a driver's license for the state of Nevada.

I almost lost my nerve. Edward had fake passports for both of us in the safe. I could believe that he might have had one made for me under another name to make it easier for me to flee, but he had them made for him, too. That could only mean that he had planned to run with me.

I let myself entertain the notion of us staying together for a moment. It brought a smile to my face until I imagined him being shot trying to protect me.

I pocketed the two passports with my picture and slipped Edward's back into the package. I replaced the envelope in the back of the safe with a little bit of regret, and went back to calculating how much money I would need. Would $5,000 be enough? Surely it would be.

A flash of my old life assaulted me: I once had asked Heidi if $5,000 was enough, and she told me to take $20,000. When I asked her why, she said twice as much as you think you need is never enough.

Without thinking, my hands automatically closed over more bundles of money.

I hadn't thought of Heidi in months. I'd buried memories of her and all the rest of the Volturi so deep that they only came to the surface in my nightmares. I wasn't Bella Lawson. Nobody was. She was a fictional invention created by Edward and Emmett and me. While Bella Lawson spent her time shopping for wedding dresses, planning charity galas, and drinking Cristal by the pool; Marie Swan had to testify against the Volturi, a group that had infiltrated every corner of society and ruthlessly obliterated anyone who opposed them.

Given a choice, I would choose to be Bella any day, but I never really had a choice, did I?

I went downstairs and grabbed my purse from the kitchen table. I jogged back up the shallow steps and into Edward's den where the safe still stood open. From the purse I extracted Bella's passport, and from the wallet, I withdrew Bella's driver's license.

I made myself put them in the envelope with Edward's IDs.

I wasn't Bella anymore.

I never was.

Two hours later, I was waiting for Jake to arrive for work. He was the only person I knew who would understand. All I needed from him was an anonymous ride to a bus station, but he did me one better and offered to set me up with a spare set of wheels he had sitting in his garage.

That was way more than I could have hoped for, since it wouldn't be immediately traceable to Edward. Jacob was even able to take me to the car immediately. That left me back in the house, shoveling food into a cooler and nervously watching the clock. Edward wasn't supposed to be home for three hours at least, but I wanted a significant head start on him. The whole plan was for naught if he walked in the door right now.

Suitcase packed with clothes for any weather? Check. Cash stashed? Check. Cooler packed? With the last minute addition of a bag of mint Milano cookies, that was ready, too.

Marie Swan was ready to make tracks.

I set my cell phone on the kitchen table. It would stay at the house. People who wanted to disappear didn't use cell phones. There was probably some tracking chip in mine or some other way to compromise my location. The cell phone looked lonely on the table, and I realized that as much as it would be best for me to simply disappear like Bella Lawson never existed, I couldn't do it. I had to tell Edward something.

But what if someone found the note?

The possibility of discovery was not deterrent enough. I would write the note with the idea that someone might find it. There was a pen in my purse, and I uncapped it slowly. I set the pen on the paper, and it sat there for several seconds while I considered what I wanted to say.

Dear Edward,

I've decided to leave. I know you'll be hurt, but please know this is for the best. Don't try to find me, because it won't be possible.

Don't take it personally that things didn't work out. I was the problem, not you. You'll always have a place in my heart.

Bella

It didn't capture everything I wanted to say; namely, it didn't say how much I loved him, but at least he knew I left of my own volition and I wasn't kidnapped or something. If my cover was intact, this had to look like a break-up note to anyone who saw it.

I fought tears as I realized the last thing I had to do. I slid Edward's ring off my finger and set it on the table next to my note. I couldn't wear something so flashy on the road, and it wouldn't be right to keep it, anyway. I was sure the ring was worth more than the $20,000 in cash I had stashed in my suitcase. Better to leave the ring here, rather than have a continual reminder of what never quite happened.

I heard feet on the stairs and saw Jacob standing on the porch.

He opened the door a crack. "I'm ready whenever you are, Bells."

My smile was watery. "I'm ready."