Hey everyone! I'm really interested in the response I'll be getting on this one. Thank you so much for the support! Four more chapters to go – and this is a long one.

Oh, and in this chapter there's a hidden reference to one of my favorite books. It'll be interesting to see who spots it!

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella, how are you? It's been a while."

"I'm… fine, Phil," I answered, my stepfather's sudden call and interest in my life stunning me into utter confusion. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Listen, I didn't want to worry you or anything, but as I was waiting I got to thinking it might be a good idea to give you a head's up."

"What about?" I asked, immediately, sitting up in bed and sending the book flying to the carpet.

Cursing it under my breath, I crouched to get it, almost falling to the floor as Phil's next words sunk in:

"Renee wasn't feeling well earlier, so I insisted we come to the hospital. Nothing much really, she didn't even faint or anything. It was just a funny feeling in her chest and left shoulder. I had to drag her out of the house; she kept insisting she was fine."

My mind reeled.

"How is she now? Where is she?" I asked, trying really hard not to freak out.

"They've admitted her to run some tests."

Not good.

If it really was just a few tests, they could have cared for her as an outpatient.

"What did the attending say?" I probed, trying to access how much Phil knew and whether or not he was hiding anything from me.

"Not a whole lot," Phil admitted, his tone light and carefree as always. "Just that it might be nothing, but, just in case, they want her to stay for the night."

My blood ran cold.

The doctor wouldn't have mentioned anything of the sort if he wasn't preparing him for the possibility of Renee staying there for some time.

And it was pretty obvious that my stepfather was being optimistic and naïve about the whole thing.

"What tests did he order?" I asked, trying to keep it light and conversational. Now I was the one trying not to upset him.

"I think a blood panel, an ECG and an eco-something," he got out, slowly, as he tried to remember the terms. "I'm sure you'd know better than me, maybe you should call her doctor."

"Sure, sure," I agreed, my heart thumping in my chest as I sat on my desk and sought the first piece of paper I could put my hands on. "I think I'll do just that. Do you know his name?"

I wrote it down furiously and listened as he described the tedious waiting period and wondered out loud about just how long it would take until he could take Renee back home.

I couldn't answer him.

"Want me to tell her anything, when they let me see her?" he asked.

I thought for a couple of seconds.

"Tell her…" I hesitated. I didn't know how to put it in a way that wouldn't alert him. "Tell her I'll be calling to check on her, and I'll be in contact with her doctor."

Tell her I love her. Tell her I wished I was there.

"Will do, Bella. Take care, and don't worry too much, I'm sure this is nothing."

I had to sigh. I couldn't help it. Was he really treating me like a kid?

"I won't. Call me if there's any news, okay?"

After he assured me he would, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

That day, I did something I thought I'd never do.

I used Jones' passwords – which I'd memorized, by then - to get into the information databases and do my own unauthorized research.

Let's just say people can get arrested for that.

I didn't actually access medical records – even if I was really, really tempted to check Renee's – but cross-checked the information I had to try and find out what was wrong with my mother.

I used information about drug tests, subject studies, hospital stats, it didn't matter.

I had a theory, but I needed to be sure.

I didn't know enough to come to a definite conclusion, and I must have left several messages before Dr. Seward finally returned my calls, only to say, in his most impersonal tone, that the tests weren't back yet.

He had the nerve to tell me to calm down.

I wasn't the least bit impressed of fazed by his patronizing tone. I was used to it – a lot of my teachers used that same registry to address whomever – but it sickened me all the same.

Instead of calling him on it, or demanding anything of him, I was impeccably polite and requested that all of my mother's information be faxed to me – in other words, the Dartmouth Pathology Department - as soon as it was available. And if he had a problem with that, he could check with my stepdad.

That had Dr. Seward stuttering.

An hour later, I swung by the office to check the fax machine and, sure enough, it was all there.

I spent the whole afternoon going through the history and results, picking apart the data.

I cursed myself for bring a freshman, and used the databases and books to aid me.

Still, the ECG and echocardiogram reports were pretty straightforward. When I finally got to those, my suspicions were confirmed.

The adrenaline that had led me to break several laws seemed to leave my system all at once, and I sunk in my chair, feeling tired, shriveled and defeated.

I was afraid, but not for myself.

There was nothing I could do about it. That was the scariest part.

Suddenly, I regretted coming to New Hampshire; I really wished I was closer.

I would never forgive myself for not being there.

Alice interrupted my musings, as her hand came to rest on my shoulder. I'd been too wrapped up to notice her entering the room.

"Hey," I greeted, in a small voice.

"Hi," she greeted back, in the same tone, observing me. She was way too perceptive to believe everything was alright, but she decided to skirt the issue: "Bringing work home?"

I shook my head no, and my best friend squinted, trying to make out what it was about.

"This… This is Renee's," she breathed, picking up on it.

But, besides that, it could have been Chinese, for all she understood.

Feeling as if I was being ripped apart, I finally explained:

"That's her hospital chart," I started, and her worried eyes darted to mine. "I think my mother had a heart attack."

Al, too, sunk to the arm of the chair, by my side, in the dim room, and we shared the silence that followed my hollow voice.

And if I believed in any deity, I would have prayed.

We just stayed there, in comfortable, albeit pained silence, until I turned off the laptop and rubbed my tired eyes. Only then did my little friend get up – coming back shortly after with the "emergencies only" tub of ice-cream and two spoons.

The event definitely qualified as an emergency.

We saw silly DVD's and didn't talk about it, because it wouldn't help. And I still didn't know enough.

I fiddled with my cell-phone the whole time, in hopes of hearing from Phil, but the small device mocked me, still and unresponsive.

No news.

The call came well into the night, waking me up from a fitful sleep.

Phil was panicked and sounded just about ready to cry, which was really heart wrenching and awkward all at once. I tried my best to calm him down, and told him what I knew, focusing on the practical issues.

We needed to wait. Right now, they were just trying to get Renee stable before further evaluation. She'd been given a mild sedative to let her body rest and restore itself.

Best possible outcome, she'd be home in two days.

I didn't tell him that wasn't to be expected – he wouldn't benefit from having to take in that much information all at once. I just told him to go home, take a shower and try to get some sleep, as he needed his strength.

I, however, didn't sleep after hanging up, but went online and bought myself a plane ticket instead. The soonest I could get there would be in two days, which made me want to break something in anger, but driving there would take much longer, so I was stuck with it.

Even while trying my best to be quiet, I still woke Alice up, and she called Jasper – sending him in a quest for caffeinated goods.

When he did arrive – a steaming cappuccino with my name on it in one hand -, and I told him what was wrong, he seemed to join our silent pact just perfectly.

I just stirred the drink, trying to ignore the memories stirring inside, beating myself up over the fact that, when I first realized what had happened to my mother and what we'd have to deal with, as a broken family, – I didn't think to call Alice or Jasper.

Edward was the first one on my mind.

"I thought your mother was young," Jas remarked, incredulity written all over his voice.

"She's forty-one, but it doesn't really matter. It can happen to anyone," I stated, in my best clinical voice. "Her high cholesterol levels certainly didn't help. It runs in the family."

My blond friend cast Alice a glance, and I could read so much into it, it blew me away.

He wouldn't know what to do if it was her. She was already such a big part of his life, even just as friends. He'd be content to know she was healthy and happy, and with that alone.

But I knew they could be more.

The rift between them pained me more than ever, but right then there were other pressing issues. I swore to myself I would do something about it, and soon.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Al snapped, a whirlwind of black hair and pink bathrobe. "Because Renee is a tough cookie, strong and able. And she's got Bella," she smiled, all cheery and bright, and I gulped.

Right. The family doctor-to-be.

That made me see things in another perspective. Truth is, Phil had been more than glad to get me chasing the information – he expected it from me.

I shrugged it off just as quickly. I was good with responsibility, and it wasn't like I was going to medicate my own mother. I was just going to watch out to see if she was being properly looked after, help in any way I could and just be there for her.

Alice started packing my bag, and I didn't even have to warn her about keeping it light and sensible. That was one fashion battle I didn't have to endure.

I concentrated in getting everything else ready – giving notice at the Department and talking with Jones. My boss and teacher assured me they'd be fine without me and encouraged me to take as much time as I needed, even offering to put in a good word for me if there were any pending papers.

Her kindness and best wishes lit the guilt for what I'd done, but I wasn't sorry. I would have done it again without as much as blinking.

My friends, however, both had an important paper to deliver. They tried to pull some crap about being perfectly able to do it in the laptop on the plane, or in some waiting room at the hospital, but I completely refused to let them come with me.

They'd be there for me, no matter what, one phone call away, and physically, the moment I got back. I knew that, and it was all that mattered. They were a part of my family too, and I wanted to see them succeed – especially Alice, who still had to prove herself, after the stunts she had pulled with the teachers in the beginning of the semester.

Having everything set, I thought I'd occupy my time in the library – trying to find out a little more about the episode and the possible outcomes. My knowledge on the subject was, at best, superficial.

Renee might need a nurse to help around the house for a while; I wondered if the insurance would cover it, and made a mental note to discuss it with Phil later.

As I was reading, my phone started ringing – and more than a dozen pairs of angry eyes turned to me. I ignored them, as I couldn't risk missing a call.

"Dr. Seward, what news do you have for me?" I answered, stepping out to the library's stairs.

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan. I'm afraid the second round of tests has uncovered the full extent of the injuries your mother suffered during her episode."

"How serious is it?" I asked, trying to get him to come clear.

Which he did. I felt myself going numb as the words rang through the speaker, a new panic rising within me.

"She needs surgery, then?" I croaked out.

"Yes, without a doubt. She is still feeble, so we'll have to wait a few days, but as soon as possible we'll get her in the schedule."

"Thank you," I answered, simply, not knowing what else to say. "I'll arrive in Phoenix the day after tomorrow; do you think I'll be in time to see her… before…?"

"Yes, I think so. The strain she's been through is our greatest enemy right now."

I thanked him again, trying my best not to sink on those steps and cry.

I refused to. I had an important task on my hands.

Going back inside, I started researching about the procedure my mother needed, and then reminded myself to check the scientific articles databases for any new information.

One name kept popping up as a reference.

My stomach growled, loudly, a couple of hours past dinner time, and I realized I should be going. Grabbing the pile of articles I still wanted to scan through, I managed to get to the cafeteria in time for a soup and headed back to my room, really tired and overwhelmingly sad.

I sat back in bed, and kept reading, even if the sheer fatigue was making my vision blurry.

And that same name kept being mentioned, to the point where it was no longer possible to ignore.

Sinking in sleep as I listened to Alice's even breaths beside me, I made a decision.

The next morning I woke up, bothered and uncomfortable. As the events of the previous days came to me, I groaned – partly because I hadn't changed into pajamas and my jeans were no good to sleep in.

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I hurried out of the room, even if I felt like going back to bed for half a day.

My steps were brisk, moved by sheer intent, but I was extremely conflicted.

I didn't want to do it. I could never have imagined myself doing it. And if it had been any other situation, I wouldn't.

But I knew I had to.

I was going to bite the proverbial bullet. I would do it for Renee, even if that meant swallowing my dignity as well.

As I got to my destination, I frowned up to the oak door. It seemed to stand before me every single time.

I knocked, ignoring, once more, the fact I had the key, but needed to knock again, as it wasn't answered.

I started to worry that he wasn't there. I started to really worry about him being there, but not alone – and my mind conjured the image of the strawberry blonde girl.

I had to mentally nail my feet to the ground to keep myself from running away after that thought.

Finally, the door was opened, and I didn't say anything, merely stepping inside, thinking I'd earned the right to make myself at home.

I risked a glance at the bed – tousled, but empty – and allowed myself a breath of relief.

Edward was wearing jeans and one of the t-shirts he slept with – and I wondered if the bed was still warm. Shaking myself out of it, I looked at his face for the first time.

Hope and surprise written all over it.

I squashed the sheer need to crumble before him, and tell him of all my fears. To feel his arms around me.

"I'm sorry it's so early," I started, my voice raspy, as I tried to create a lighter atmosphere.

"It's okay," he answered, simply.

This was different from that morning before our final. More private, more personal. Harder.

"My mother had a heart attack, Edward," I sobbed, and, to my own eternal shame, started crying. "It was extremely acute, affected one of the main cardiac arteries. Part of the heart muscle tissue has suffered necrosis from being deprived of oxygen for so long, so it doesn't work as well as it should. She needs surgery, and I was researching. Your father's name kept coming up, and I'm sorry I'm even here, and I know I have no right to ask this of you…" I ranted, the words gushing out of me.

"Bella," Edward interrupted, placing his hand on my shoulder and calming me at once. "I'll call Carlisle. I'm sure he'll be happy to help."

I merely nodded, trying to keep more tears at bay, and watched as Edward recovered his phone from his nightstand and dialed.

His head snapped up to me as he talked, probably sensing my stare, and it was easier.

The whole thing was easier because I'd been able to share it with him.

My own proverbial bullet might as well been made of sugar.