Rosalie POV

Years later…

"You have a new comment on your blog," Vera says. "Somebody called… Scarlett Kennedy. Who's seventy-five years old.

I frowned. Scarlett Kennedy? A few years ago, I had an intern called Kennedy, a lovely woman with rings and studs in her eyebrows and tongue. She had to take them all out before I allowed her to start work. The fashion industry was a very respectful place. I couldn't let some young girl walk in looking like a felon. But it can't be that Kennedy, she had been only twenty-one years old.

"Give it here."

Vera passes me the laptop and I take a look. I don't normally do work while eating breakfast in my bathrobe. Vera and I loved bathrobes. We were the typical middle-aged woman who enjoyed coziness and massages. We could afford it, so why not?

I began my fashion blog not too long ago. It was easier to reach out to people and display my new collections. The business was growing and we were doing better than ever. Woman really enjoyed the new blog and usually, I receive comments from stay at home wives or young adults. The comments were often hilarious.

Not this one though.

Good morning Miss. Hale!

I'm just wondering if you're the Rosalie Hale who knew Esme Cullen during the war in England. I'm a...friend of hers. You might like to know that she just turned seventy-five last week. Still going strong! Also, I really enjoyed your last collection! I'm wondering what inspired you?

Hope to hear from you soon!

Scarlett Kennedy

"Who is it?" Vera poured another cup of coffee.

I shut the web page. "No one. Why do you ask?"

"Your eyes grew big while you were reading."

I force myself to laugh. "It's not Kennedy who's seventy-five. It's someone else I knew. Someone I thought was dead, but she's not."

I was wrong to say that I thought she was dead. I don't think of her as dead. Although I haven't pictured her alive, either. I've barely thought about her over the last few years. She was just a memory.

Vera smiled. "I'm happy to hear that. Who-"

"I better get ready for work!" I stood up from my seat. "Don't want to be late! We have a big day today!"

I've been living in Chicago for the last thirty-something years. At one point, the smells of the city used to be alien to me and it's chaotic fragrance set me on edge. There was no tinge of earthy loam and no spring growth or heady warning when rain was due. The fumes from belching vehicles underpinned everything, punching right out of it would be the spicy offerings of the street vendors. But now these are the smells of home. The city loves me in ways that no person ever has. It listens to my fierce footsteps, the clicking of my polished heels against its pavements on early Monday mornings. It watches me smile ear to ear when I see the window on its skyscrapers reflects the orange glow of the afternoon sun. It empathizes with my frustrated groans when I can't flag down a taxi to take me home. It celebrates with me when I'm on top of the world and cries when life gets hard. The city sees and feels every moment of every day of my life. It understands.

I showered and dressed before driving to my studio. I was designing a new collection of dresses that needed to be done by Friday. I had a very important fashion show coming up in Paris that could either make or break my career. I was thirty-one and a widow when I started this company- just an English woman who's short and worse… European. People waited for me to fail, but I refused to do so.

"Can you please not worry," I told daddy. "There's still a chance that I might pull through."

Daddy sighed. "Honey, I will always be proud of you. It's just that-"

"No," I said. "My upbringing had nothing to do with this. I have to be more than the wretched little girl that my father sent overseas. I hope you will understand that."

"I do."

It wasn't ideal for a woman my age to just now start her career. I meant my husband when I was only nineteen years old. Daddy forgot his lunch one day so Nora had me dress up to deliver it to him at his job (in hopes that the son of the bank's owner would take notice). And it worked. Royce King II sent roses to my house the next day and commented that my eyes were like violets. Our relationship was solely based on physical attraction, as Royce was often too busy at the bank. I didn't want to marry him, but he was wealthy and daddy lost all his money after the war ended. He had been lucky that Royce's father offered him a job and in return… my father promised his daughter. Daddy and Nora pushed me into the engagement and made sure we were married a week later so I couldn't change my mind. They were pleased when they inherited some of Royce's fortune. And I was miserable…

Royce was a handsome young man. Very charming too. We had a mutual relationship. He was never overly affectionate with me and I think he just liked to use me as some sort of prize. He would show me off to his other friends and I felt uncomfortable when the other men stared at me with hungry eyes. One man tried to touch me and I swatted him away with my handbag. I remember the bruises on my arms that Royce left after that night. He spat at me and warned me to never embarrass him again in front of his friends.

Daddy and Nora didn't care to hear my cries. I tried reaching out to Aunt Gloria but she told me to stop being a brat and have a baby instead.

"A child will change everything. Have his children and he will learn to respect you."

So I took her advice...

A few years after our marriage, we had five children; Royce III, David, Calvin, Michael, and Lily. I thought that once I had Lily I would feel better because she was my first girl and I had always wanted a daughter. But I began to feel worse. I tried explaining my feelings to Aunt Gloria. She didn't want to hear it though. So I went on with my life and tried to forget about my unhappiness. I suppose I had no reason to complain. We were rich and money was no object.

Maybe I was being a brat…

Thankfully, the Lord had something else planned for me. Royce became terribly sick one day and he only lived for five days before he passed away. I mourn the loss of my husband and then afterward I decided to build my career. I had meant Nora in high school and she was my best friend. She went to university to be a fashion designer and she was just starting her line when I suggested that we should work together as business partners. Now we run one of the biggest clothing companies in Chicago. She moved in with me after her husband passed and her son went off to college. We had a lovely time together and I was thankful that I've was given a second chance at life.

I arrived at the studio and turned to my blog. Scarlett Kennedy's comment was still there. I began to type rapidly.

Miss. Kennedy,

Thank you for your remark. This collection means something very special to me. It was inspired by my daughter, Lillian King. Lily adores pastels and short dresses with buttons. I'm thankful that she hates neon colors and social trends as much as I do. Lily at university right now studying to be a fashion designer with a minor in business. I hope to hire her someday and work together as mother and daughter. Thank you for showing interest in this collection.

Have a lovely day,

Rosalie Hale

I sat there and stared at the message. It taunted me. But my employees started to arrive and I deiced to move out of my chair. I paused for a second and darted back to the computer screen. I pressed send and then left.

That night I dream about England. I imagine the walls of the house and some windows, black paint blistering on the frames. I passed the windows and noticed that the house seem empty. Rather unusual... I tried the kitchen and found someone standing in front of the stove. Her hair was brown with caramel locks. She jerks her head towards me and…

I wake up, my heart pounding out of my chest. It's not even dawn yet.

I remember when Aunt Gloria came and sat on my bed. She explained to me why Esme would never visit and why she wouldn't be writing anymore. She said that Esme loved me. But I didn't understand that, so Aunt Gloria hushed me with bread and milk. I stop asking questions.

Aunt Gloria had said, "It's nice to have a girl the same as me."

I figured that Esme had forgotten about me. She was expecting her first child so I'm sure she was busy with other things. She didn't have time to write anymore. I just wish that I moved on as quickly as she did…

The light reaches into the room and I gave up on sleep. I got up from the bed and walked over to my computer screen. I checked the blog and no replies. But then I discovered that Scarlett Kennedy emailed me instead.

Dear Miss. Hale,

Wow! That's truly beautiful! Lily is one lucky girl to have a mother such as yourself! The collection is absolutely stunning! Would it be possible to purchase that new blouse? The blue colored on with the pockets. I'd love to tell Esme about you. But only if you're comfortable with it.

Who the hell is this woman? This Scarlett Kennedy? Why does she want to tell Esme about me? What would she even say?

My fingers hovered over the keys.

Scarlett, who exactly are you?"

I paused and closed my eyes until I heard a ding. The sun is beginning to glow against the bottom of the shutters. I sit up in my chair and looked at the email.

Miss. Hale,

I apologize! I've been rather rude. I am Esme's youngest daughter, Scarlett Paige Cullen. I married a few short years ago which is why my maiden name has been replaced with Kennedy. I just wondered if you are the Rosalie my mother shared stories about.

I took a deep breath.

Does Esme know you've contacted me?

No, I'm afraid she doesn't. I didn't want to upset her.

I stared at the wall and then I heard another ding.

Rosalie,

I am terribly sorry. I'm an idiot for upsetting you. I've known about you for a long time and lately my mother been talking about you again. I know she would never ask you to come because of what happened…

She says you began a new life when you were a child and that she would only hurt you more by trying to bring you back. But I can tell by her eyes that she loves you very much and she has never forgotten the little girl she saved all those years ago. You are her greatest treasure.

I better blog off. The baby crying! I am truly sorry though. Please take care!

Sincerely,

Scarlett

PS. I really do love your collection!

I heard a knock coming from my door. "Rosalie we need to leave! We have ten minutes before we miss our meeting with Vogue!"

I sighed. "I'll be right there."

I dropped Vera off at the head building before going to the studio. Every minute I thought about Scarlett's message and I tried to hold my feelings inside. Seeing Esme's name, knowing that she talked about me… I can't commute that. I shake my head, but the words still appeared in my mind.

You are her greatest treasure…

I hardly worked for an hour before I pricked myself with a needle. "Bloody hell!"

I can't take this any longer! I log into my commuter and responded to the email.

Scarlett, please don't log off.

That evening I stayed behind and worked on another piece for the collection. Lily loved floral dresses and I wanted to create at least one floral dress for my girl. I was struggling to find the right shade of colors and texture for the flowers. I didn't want the flowers to look cheap or tacky. I was running through the coloring book when the studio phone rang.

"Rosalie?" A young voice spoke. "It's Scarlett."

It felt impossible to speak. Somehow she sense that.

"I'm so sorry. This is probably too much!" She said.

"Scarlett, are you in England?" I asked.

"Yes."

I sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Take your time," Scarlett told me. "I have thirty minutes before the baby wakes."