Bella blinked at the car in front of her. It was the same silver Volvo Edward had driven in Forks. She supposed it shouldn't surprise her that they'd kept it. It was a perfectly good car, but it was also a car that held many memories, some good, some less so.

"We can take another car if you want," Edward said.

"No, it's fine. I just . . . do you mind if I drive?"

"Not at all." He held out the keys, which she took, noticing that he offered them so their hands didn't touch.

Sitting in the driver's seat, she felt her stomach flutter with excitement. She hadn't driven in months. It meant she could choose where they'd go. It meant freedom, independence!

Except, she hadn't the vaguest idea of where to go. Familiarizing herself with the controls, she tried to recall the last time she'd even been in this area. She thought of Port Orchard as simply one of the towns they drove through on the way home to Forks from Sea-Tac Airport. She tried to remember if they had passed any shopping centers on those drives.

"There's a mall not too far from here."

Her gaze snapped to his face. "Could you hear—"

"No," he said, smiling, "Simply a logical deduction: clothes, malls. Alice trained me well."

She let herself chuckle, silencing the disquieting feeling that squirmed in her stomach every time Alice's or Jasper's name was mentioned.

There had been so many other things that had occupied her conversations with Edward, they hadn't even come back to the fact that he'd heard her thoughts—well once, anyway. Surely he would have discussed it with Carlisle, wouldn't he?

"You must have theories as to why you could hear my thinking."

"Only the most speculative." He reached up and pressed a button on the remote attached to the driver's side visor. The garage door lifted behind them.

For a brief moment, she wondered if that were true or if it was a polite way of deflecting more questions. She shook off the doubt. As far as she could tell, he'd been nothing but truthful with her. He also hadn't answered or reacted to any of her thoughts since that event. She reversed slowly, checking to make sure the car's path was clear of obstacles, pausing at the garage exit.

Edward remained still beside her. Too still. It had been no secret previously that he preferred to drive. Perhaps he didn't feel comfortable saying so now? God, she was second-guessing everything.

"Um, are you really okay with me driving?" she asked.

"Yes, it's fine. Why?"

She shook her head and reversed the last little bit out of the garage, hitting the remote to close the garage door. Edward's question tugged at some murky concern in her insides. Setting aside the feeling, she focused on navigating the long driveway.

Bella enjoyed driving. Edward had given her a few routes from which to choose, and Bella elected to stick to the quieter side roads, giving her a leisurely pace at which to take in the houses and signs, smiling a little whenever she saw the speed limit written in miles. When Edward asked her if she would like to listen to music, she had told him to choose, and he had put on something she didn't recognize but found soothing. Aside from the mellow jazz in the background, they rode in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Despite the pleasure of the drive, Bella was soon preoccupied with the manifestations of her doubt: Why? Why was she questioning his every answer, his every word? While she'd wrestled some of her doubt to the ground, a hefty amount remained, for she didn't trust herself, or more precisely, her judgment. In Volterra, she'd sacrificed Edward's freedom for his life. Though she couldn't regret his being alive, she could no longer ignore the selfishness of the action itself as well as the horrific lack of judgment with which she'd made her decision. Subject to Demetri's whims, Bella had had ample opportunity to study the misery of having one's will subjugated to another's.

She stiffened, the thought of even his name making her twitchy. The wheel slipped slightly under her hand, the car veering to the right. Correcting the direction quickly, she caught Edward's sideways glance and pulled over onto the shoulder. The ground was soft, likely very muddy. There was no such thing as a dry spring on the Washington coast. She turned off the car. This matter might take a while.

"Do you want me to drive?" Edward asked.

"No, thank you. I just need a break." She paused. "No, that's not true. I . . . there's something I want to talk to you about."

"I'm all ears," Edward said.

He waggled his for her, and she laughed. She'd missed this playful Edward. She'd missed him.

"Before, before you left—"

His wince was fleeting, but she caught it before he smoothed his features.

Oh boy. Wrong way to begin this conversation.

Bella smiled weakly and tried again. "I wasn't very good before at"—she struggled for the words and found herself almost doing an eye roll as she used the ones he'd once offered her—"seeing myself clearly."

Yes, that was a tiny smirk on Edward's face. Naturally he would remember.

"That's what you said to me then except I don't think you had an entirely accurate picture of things either." When she checked, his expression was serious and his gaze intent on hers.

"And I've made some incredibly poor decisions without regard to their consequences. I've been really locked into views of myself that have been, I think, unhealthy. I mean, I used to think of myself as not . . . being worthy, I guess, of your attention—"

"Bella—"

"Please, let me finish." She knew she had to get through this while she had this opportunity . . . and the nerve.

Edward nodded, pressing his lips together as if it was a struggle for him to stay silent. On this subject, it probably was.

It was too hard for her to say this while she could see him looking at her, so she dropped her gaze to her lap and fiddled with the car keys in her hand. "The last few months have helped me see how warped that view was. I admit I still see myself as not good enough sometimes, but I'm trying to overcome that. I think I have a much stronger sense of who I am now. I'm still working on everything, but I think I'm finding a balance."

She chanced a look at Edward, wondering if he would object to what she was saying, but he was still just watching her with that inscrutable expression of his, listening, so she went on. "However, I've also realized how blindly I've acted and how much damage I've caused. I wasn't even thinking of what you wanted when I made that bargain with Aro—"

"You've more than apologized for that," Edward said. "And it won't change anything to keep dwelling on it. None of this was your fault. I've told you that you don't owe me any apologies." His jaw was tight as he spoke.

Was he angry with her? He hadn't been upset when they'd spoken of this before. In fact, he'd been nothing but calm and even conciliatory for the past week. Was it because she was treading old ground again, opening a wound that had just barely begun to heal? Already unsure that she was approaching this conversation in the right way, she was even more uncertain now. Should she wait? No, she decided. There was nothing to gain in waiting, and it had already taken too much out of her to even bring it up today. She knew she needed to push forward. Her voice felt a little shakier as she continued talking. "I still need to say this. I made some other very illogical decisions before, too, choices which I can see now were so unnecessarily hurtful."

"Such as?" His tone was formal, and she wondered if she was sensing impatience from him or something darker.

She swallowed, nerves trembling. She could feel herself losing her focus, and the thought of not being able to get this out after coming this far made her blurt out, "Um . . . I was really stubborn about gifts." It was the first of her perceived transgressions that came into her head.

"Gifts," Edward repeated, his voice flat.

For a few moments, there was nothing but total silence in the car. Bella stared at her lap again, aware that Edward seemed frozen in that way that she had come to loathe. She wondered if he would say anything else or if she should. Maybe he was waiting for her to explain.

"Yes, I . . . I know it used to bother you, hurt you even, and now that I—"

"Stop."

She blinked at the stark directive but did as he asked, halting her speech mid-sentence. In the next moment he was out of the car, shutting the door behind him with more force than she'd ever known him to use. Through the windshield, she watched him pace back and forth a few times along the shoulder with his hands on his hips, moving at a speed that was dangerously close to being inhuman before he finally stopped and stared at the trees that lined the road.

Alarmed at his response, she emerged slowly from the driver's side. She was physically feeling much better, but she still moved carefully, not quite trusting the way her body operated under the effects of the withdrawal. And Edward was clearly agitated for reasons that were unclear. Although she didn't fear him, she feared for him in this moment.

"Edward?"

"Gifts?" he snapped, turning to face her. "You want to apologize for not accepting gifts?"

This was obviously not a question to which he expected a response.

His hands were in fists at his sides. "You were, what, minutes from trying to kill yourself when I got to you?" He huffed out a breath. "You even tried to do it after I was there. And you want to apologize for something as ridiculous as being ungracious in accepting gifts? Do you have any idea how that felt, knowing you were going to kill yourself rather than leave with me?"

What the hell? Had he lost his mind? Where was this coming from? Had he forgotten about his own suicide attempt? She thought of Demetri and his double standards, and instead of fear, there was a wave of rage on which she rode out her next words, "You mean, just like you did before I stopped you?"

"I thought you were dead, Bella! You knew I was alive when you tried to kill yourself! I was right in front of you!"

"That is . . ." She could feel herself scrunching her features together, angry and struggling to make sense of this craziness that had come out of nowhere. "They . . . we . . . those were completely different circumstances. There is no comparison." She shook her head, spluttering out, "How can you even be angry at me for that after you tried to kill yourself? After Demetri—after what he did—I knew I'd still have to be near him for the rest of my life, Edward, human or not. And I didn't just think you'd stopped loving me. I thought you hated me. So there is no rational argument for you to be upset like this."

"There is every reason for me to be upset like this!" The words poured out of him as if an invisible dam had broken. "There is nothing rational about the way I feel about you!"

For all the times she told herself that he would never hurt her, when she read the fierceness of the emotion on his face, her body had other ideas. Her foot seemed to move of its own volition, stepping away from him. The patchy grass slid out from under her, and she found herself falling and being caught in a very hard pair of arms, hard and yet gentle as they had always felt to her, even now.

She was upright again so quickly, she didn't have time to react to his touch. Edward stepped back, though Bella could see he still watched her closely. He kept his hands loosely at his sides as his eyes met hers.

"I frightened you."

She shook her head, even though she knew he could hear her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

"I won't hurt you, Bella," he said, adding more softly, "ever again."

She studied his face, looking for vestiges of the rage that had been there a moment before, but it was gone. Had his mood altered that quickly, or was he doing what he did best, hiding his emotions? She could find only sincerity and possibly sadness in his eyes.

She had to take a steadying breath before she could speak again. "I'm not afraid of you." She would will this to be true, even though it wasn't entirely, not yet. "It's just . . . you're so angry, and I don't get why. Where did this come from?"

He took another step back, putting his hands in his pockets this time, completing the human charade. A few moments later, a lone car drove past them, and she realized the gesture hadn't been for her benefit. Always on guard, she realized suddenly. Always watching, always careful.

"I apologize for my behaviour," Edward said. "It terrified me, Bella. You were so injured, so ill when I came for you in Volterra. I was afraid I was going to lose you before I could get you home. And then I almost did." He looked away from her for a moment, turning his eyes to the highway, watching two more cars go by. Her memories of that day weren't as clear as his had to be, but yes, he had been moments from losing her.

He was quiet for so long that Bella wondered if he had finished, but then he began to speak again, his voice thick with emotion. "I wasn't able to give you comfort then. I can't even touch you now without causing you distress." He caught her gaze quickly before she could react. "No, don't feel badly about that. Please don't. This is not on you."

His vulnerability was unprecedented, and she barely breathed out her "Okay," not wanting to risk spoiling this moment with him.

"I love you, Bella. I love you so much that it's agony for me to know you were in enough pain to want to kill yourself."

She knew exactly how he felt. For just a moment, she had the urge to reach for him, to put her arms around him. Her fear held her back, but the almost physical ache was comforting—it was evidence of how much they were still connected.

"I haven't been able to—" He blew out a breath, trying again. "I'm explaining all of this badly. I have wanted to talk about these things, but sometimes it felt like I was still in Volt—back in Italy, unable to tell you what I wanted to. Everyone has been so worried about you, about both of us. The minute we were back, they were all in my head constantly—their concern, their joy, their recriminations; my father in one ear telling me to control my emotions so I didn't upset you or Esme; and then Esme in the other, ecstatic that we were home but reminding me every minute that I had broken everyone's hearts and how fragile you were—"

"But I'm not," Bella said.

Amazingly, a smirk appeared on his face. "That's what Rose was telling me—in between colorful epithets."

Encouraged, Bella smiled too. "And what was Emmett saying? Let's play Call of Duty?"

He laughed. It was more of a brief chuckle than anything, but suddenly the moment was lighter, and there was a flicker of something hopeful in the air again.

"You are the one person who can . . . affect me this way, Bella. Apparently, that's not always a good thing for you," Edward said wryly. "I'm just glad that you're finally ascribing to yourself the value you deserve. You should. For the record, you were always more than enough for me . . . and more than I deserved. You are everything."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded once, trying to accept his affirmation gracefully. His earlier unexpected response in the car had thrown her. The list of things she'd wanted to address had become scrambled, and for some reason, her inability to accept gifts had come stumbling towards the forefront of her consciousness. The other, greater flaws in her judgment were clear in her mind at the moment though. Now that she had managed this difficult conversation with Edward without any real damage, she could tell him the rest.

"I have more things I'd like to say," she told him.

Edward followed her gaze when she glanced at the Volvo several yards behind them and gave her a sheepish look. "Perhaps we can continue this somewhere besides the side of a country highway," he said, waving a hand in the direction of the car. "Do you mind if I drive for a little while?"

"No," she said. As she walked to where Edward was holding the passenger door open for her, she had to admit that the fatigue was catching up to her, and they had a lot left to do today. She suspected that with Edward at the wheel, they might make up some of the time lost during their roadside conversation.

While he'd described their destination as "close," Bella was beginning to get a sense of just how remote the Cullens' property was, relative to the area. They were several more minutes into the drive when Edward spoke again. "There was more you wanted to say, wasn't there?"

She forced herself to be brave. "I pushed you for intimacy you weren't ready for," she said. "Before, I mean." It was true. She had done that repeatedly despite his many clear refusals. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that, disparity in physical strength aside. "It wasn't fair to you, and I was wrong. I hurt you by doing that, and I hurt you when I gave up on you in Italy—"

Edward shook his head, glancing away from the road only briefly. "No one would have expected you not to believe what they told you, Bella. I lied to you when I left you in Forks. I was . . . forbidden to give you any sign of what I felt in Volterra. How could you have known?"

He had been forbidden to communicate with her. She had accepted that explanation, and she believed it. Still. "I'm sorry for putting you through it, though. It was selfish, and now I know it was cruel, having been on the other side of it . . . with you."

There was a small flicker of pride that they could have this conversation so honestly.

"You didn't push me beyond what I wanted. You listened to me, Bella. As I see it, you were simply clear about what you wanted."

What she had wanted. It seemed ironic now. Once it had been what she had wanted most from him and his refusals had driven her to distraction. Now, the mere thought of it drove her to panic. But the fact remained that he'd had his reasons, and she had ignored them, for the most part. She had pressured him, verbally and physically, to change his mind. Edward's characterization now seemed overly generous, but she set it aside for the moment.

"I pushed other boundaries, too. I disregarded your feelings about my physical safety when we were . . . intimate and then when you didn't want to change me."

"And I disregarded your wishes without explaining more clearly what I thought was at stake," Edward said.

She knew she was scowling. He didn't understand. She needed him to let her take responsibility, to respect her enough to do that. "You deserve better than what I gave you before. I want to be better, not just for you, but for myself because I've seen what selfish thinking does to someone."

This seemed to give him pause. He was quiet as he drove, slowing as they approached a logging truck which was holding up traffic. She supposed he was looking through the truck driver's eyes to see when it would be clear to pass. Finally he said, "You are not a selfish person, Bella. Far from it."

"You seem ridiculously opposed to the idea of me admitting my mistakes," she said.

His smile was just as beautiful in profile. "No. It's just that when I said you didn't see yourself clearly, it was because you found yourself so flawed then. So 'unworthy,' as you put it."

"My realistic sense of self-worth is a work in progress, as is my judgment."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, again, about my . . . outburst."

"We should get matching tattoos with that phrase," she said, smiling a little. "Right here." She pointed to her palm, and he took a quick glance. "We can hold them up whenever they're needed."

He chuckled at her paltry humour. "I would hope we won't have much more need for that phrase, at least not with each other." He chose that moment to smoothly enter the opposing lane, having found his opening to pass the truck.

"Me too."

"What else did you want to talk about?"

They were doing so well, she was worried about tackling this last part. "Are you sure you want to be driving while I tell you this?"

Edward eyed her for a moment. "The mall is just ahead. Let me park."

He pulled into the parking structure and drove up a few levels until he found one empty of cars. He didn't say anything more, but he turned off the ignition and turned in his seat to look at her. His open gaze didn't make her nervous, but anticipating his response did. This part felt more like a confession than any of the rest.

She decided it was best to start with something that wasn't new information. "I didn't think about what it would mean for you when I chose to meet James on my own. I . . . should have listened." In her peripheral vision, she saw him close one hand tightly around the steering wheel, almost as if he was anchoring himself in place, but it seemed to be his entire reaction, and he kept his eyes on hers. "As for other things you should know, when you left last fall, I . . . started hearing your voice."

"My voice?"

She didn't like the edge she heard in his tone and wondered if she should try to tread lightly even though he seemed calm enough now. "In my head," she said quickly. "I knew it was imagined. I knew it wasn't real. I wasn't insane, but then . . . I wasn't really in a good space after you left. I figured that out when I started doing things—certain activities—in order to hear that voice."

"What kinds of activities?" Again, there was a sharp note to his voice, and there might have been a tick in his jaw, but his expression was still even, somewhat calm. She hoped it wasn't simply his habitual mask and that everything he'd told her today had been the truth.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to muster courage for another explosion. He wouldn't hurt her, she told herself. She had to repeat that litany a few times in her head. When she spoke, it was in a near whisper. Try as she might, she could not keep the tremble from it. "Um, reckless things, like riding motorbikes and cliff diving. That was why I jumped off the cliff. That's what Alice saw. I wasn't suicidal, but I know that it's not the kind of thing someone with a healthy sense of self-worth does—or what someone who cares about their family and loved ones does. And . . . I know it was stupid. "

When she dared to look at him, he was staring at her, his eyes wide. His expression was still unreadable, but the hand clenching the wheel gripped it just as tightly as before. While she watched him, she saw his eyes blink and knew instinctively that he had done it for her benefit.

Bella exhaled, this too a shaky effort, as she waited for another harsh reaction from him

"You . . . endangered yourself so that you would hear auditory hallucinations of my voice." He seemed to be restating it only to himself, but she nodded anyway.

Her jaw felt very tight, and she knew she was probably gritting her teeth. It sounded so much worse coming from his lips. Her insecurities shrieked their shrill yet silent song. It took so little for a relationship to be broken—particularly one so recently mended. She thought of the final straw between Renee and Charlie and how even she hadn't been enough to keep them together. Was he finally going to understand how her foolishness had helped begin the domino effect that had led them all to Volterra? Would this be the moment he realized she was too unstable and damaged for him to want her? All her old insecurities came rushing back as she waited.

"Oh, Bella . . ." He released his grip on the wheel and reached his hand out slowly in her direction as if to touch her cheek. At the last moment, though, he caught himself, withdrawing his hand and laying it in his lap. His brows were furrowed with some strong emotion, and she realized the expression was chillingly familiar.

You're not good for me, Bella. Her heart began to speed as she feared the worst. She looked down, trying to use her hair to hide the turmoil that must be on her face.

"Please look at me." Edward's voice was surprisingly gentle.

She did, and the anguish in his expression almost took her breath away

"There is no way I can adequately express my regret for leaving you and for bringing you to so much harm, nor are there means for me to atone for it." She watched his eyes search her face. "None. But I promise you that if you allow it, I will try, and I will not stop trying until I succeed. Will you give me that chance?"

Her insecurities ceased their wail. She wasn't sure what to say to his declaration, but his promise was something she wanted to accept with all her heart. She stared back at him, shaking her head slightly before realizing that a nod was the response he was probably hoping for. When she provided it, his smile lit up his face. She'd been so terrified he was going to leave again, but until this moment, she hadn't realized how much she believed it could happen. It was emotional whiplash, and she was only just finding her footing when he spoke again, this time in a tone that was much gentler and lighter.

"So, just out of curiosity, you're not planning to resume any of those 'activities,' are you?" There was a tiny smirk to accompany his question.

"No," she said, letting out her breath in relief. He was teasing her! "I'm, um, all over that phase of my teenage years."

"Hmm," he said, leaning back in the seat, peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. It was the most playful expression she had seen in a very long time.

After a few moments and a few steadier beats of her heart, he spoke again. "Well, shall we see if you can finally enter into one of the more traditional phases of teenage life and go shopping?"

Glad to have moved back into the realm of the much more ordinary, Bella nodded. "Sure. Just, um, don't take this to mean that I enjoy going shopping."

A few hours later, sitting at a small table in a restaurant adjacent to the mall, Bella felt as if Edward was testing what she'd told him, and she was trying very hard to effect the changes she'd assured him she was trying to make. It was extraordinarily hard. He'd pointed out, quite practically and truthfully, that using her bank or credit card was likely to alert Charlie to her presence in the country before she had a chance to do so herself and then suggested that he pay for her purchases—as a gift. She had sucked back the nearly automatic 'No' that was perched on her lips and then breathed out a "Thank you, that would be lovely." It hadn't felt lovely. It had felt extremely difficult to accept. And then he'd suggested he take her to lunch.

Edward's fingers spun the tiny paper umbrella which had garnished her drink, and he eyed her occasionally as she looked around at the decor. "We can go somewhere else if you don't like this place."

She shook her head. "No, it's good. I'm just—"

"Trying very hard. I can tell." His smile was positively mischievous.

"I still hate shopping," she finally admitted.

"It's good to know some things haven't changed, then," Edward said, his crooked smile on full display.

She loved Edward, and she loved his playful side. She just wished she could more easily let go of what was obviously a deeply rooted insecurity about the equity in their relationship. "Yes, I'll admit, it is."

"I hope Alice got a glimpse of you shopping," Edward said. He was still smiling, but she didn't miss the inherent wistfulness in what he said.

"Why?"

"Because your choices will drive her up the wall and so will the fact that I paid for them."

Bella smiled with him then but still felt the pang of missing her friend. It was true. Alice would probably be laughing, after she rolled her eyes. Yet, Bella was surprised Edward had even referred to Alice by name.

"Will it be bad for them?" she asked, forcing herself to look at him as she posed the question. They hadn't approached this delicate matter yet.

Edward shook his head. "In the Volturi's eyes, they joined of their own free will to ransom us. They'll be treated well. They won't be forced to be present for . . . communal meals." His lips seemed tight over the last words.

"You were though," Bella said. It wasn't really a question.

His gaze was steady, but he didn't respond. It was answer enough.

The waiter arrived, placing Bella's meal in front of her.

"It serves Aro to keep Alice happy," Edward said then, "so don't worry. There will be runways and high fashion to keep her entertained."

"And Jasper?"

"Keeping Jasper happy keeps Alice happy. They'll be allowed to house themselves outside of the castle, somewhere private where he can have space."

For all the guilt she felt, knowing that Alice and Jasper had taken their places, Bella felt relief too. Still, it was hard to turn to her food.

"They wanted you to have this time, Bella. Don't feel guilty about enjoying it."

"Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"Yes." Edward smiled gently. "You get a wrinkle, right here." He tapped a spot just above his nose, between his own eyes.

"You don't need to hear my thoughts, then."

"Hmm," he said noncommittally, lifting his chin towards her food.

She ate, watching him scan the room with his eyes.

"Putting minds to bodies?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You didn't share any of your theories earlier about why you could hear me last week."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Honestly, we don't have any, beyond that the venom has affected you. And to be very clear, I'm worried about the way it has already distressed you physically."

Yes, she could see that. Even walking around the mall, she'd noticed that her breathing was mildly strained, her heart fluttering from the smallest exertion.

"I'll be very glad when you don't need it, and I'd like to get to that point as soon as possible."

"That makes two of us," she said through a mouthful of lettuce.

"What, licking doesn't do it for you?" he asked, abruptly playful again.

She at least covered her mouth with her napkin before her laughter caught her by surprise. She wasn't sure if she was amused more by the shock of such a remark coming from Edward or if she just welcomed the chance at some humor after so many days of illness and dramatic revelations. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for a moment of levity. "Oh my god, I've missed laughing so much."

"Don't tell Emmett that. He's been holding it all in for your benefit."

How well she could imagine. And here she paused, relishing this companionable time between them, refusing to give entrance to the past or even to the difficulties the next days and weeks would bring, knowing only the lightness of their being together in this one moment. Hovering in her mind's periphery was the knowledge of her death sentence—her transformation, she corrected herself—and she almost flinched, having it abrade her happier thoughts. As she looked at Edward though, her future as a red-eyed monster became slightly less . . . monstrous. They'd be together. She couldn't keep the shiver from her skin, but she fought to hold onto the goodness that would be an eternity with Edward.

A/N for 2020-08-29: Thank you to all of you who leave your reactions to and thoughts on this story in the comments. It's really quite delightful to read them.

As I've mentioned before, I'm participating in a fundraiser for Carey Anne Williams, one of our Twilight Fandom fanfiction authors. She has been dealing with the profound and lingering effects of Covid-19, and after six months of hospitalization, finally went home this week. Her recovery is by no means complete, and given the extent of her hospitalization in the US, her medical bills will be significant.

So, want to help? Wondering how this works? Well, if you want to chat with yours truly in a Zoom meeting, I'm scheduled for this coming September 5 at 8 p.m. Central time (US). The organizers are asking people to make a minimum $5 donation to Carey Anne's go-fund-me page ("To help Carey Williams recover from Covid") and then email your receipt to: Authors4carey AT gmail DOT com. The links and instructions for all of this are posted in my FB group: facebook DOT com / groups / flamingmaple

The organizers are asking that receipts be sent to them prior to 8 p.m. central time the day BEFORE the zoom meeting takes place.

Finally, my thanks to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for all their work on this chapter, which went through several renovations along the way.

- Erin

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.