Chapter 9

The light from the hall was blinding when the door finally opened. Bella squinted and saw Demetri standing there. Not James- thank God.

"Swan, you're going back to your pod."

Saying nothing, she managed to follow him with the little energy she had. When they entered, she turned to go directly to the cell she was used to, but Demetri pointed upstairs. "You've been moved. 204."

Exhausted, Bella looked up at the seemingly insurmountable staircase looming above her. She climbed sluggishly, expecting Demetri to bark at her for moving so slow. She had no idea what time it was, but heard the rustling and grumbling of the other women as they woke. She figured that they must have just turned the lights up, which meant it was almost time for morning count. Once finally arriving to her new cell, she heard a loud blare and screech of the cell doors being opened. "Count!" someone yelled from the lower floor. Bella nodded at Demetri and stood in her place.

After count, she entered the cell and eyed her new cellmate warily. She was a head and shoulders taller than Bella, with long, greasy blonde hair and dark, hard eyes.

Her cellmate was scrutinizing her as well. "You're the one they took to Seg for drugs, right?"

Bella said nothing, just nodded.

"Where'd you get them?" the woman demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"The drugs. You didn't buy them from me, or from one of my girls. Where the fuck did you get them?"

"They weren't mine."

"Bullshit. I catch you with anything that didn't come from me, you're gonna have a problem, got it?"

"Got it," Bella agreed, too tired to argue.

"What's your name?"

"Bella Swan."

"I'm Lauren Mallory, and as far as you're concerned, the queen bitch around here. Put your shit away. I'm tired of fucking looking at it."

Bella examined her surroundings. The top bunk had obviously been slept in. On the bottom were some folded sheets, a pillow, and her uniforms, along with her basic prison-issued toiletries. Bella sifted through the items and was crestfallen to discover that her dreamcatcher and photos were missing.

She felt tears threaten behind her eyelids and blinked them away. She knew it was just "stuff," but it was literally all she had with her that had any meaning. Feeling completely defeated, she put her uniforms off to the side and started pulling the sheets onto the mattress. Before she could finally lie down, they were called for breakfast. Bella was far too exhausted to eat, but going to the cafeteria with her pod wasn't optional. Without bothering to get in line, she sat in her usual corner and laid her head on the table.

When they returned to their cells, her cellmate sat in the single chair in the room and pulled out a magazine. Bella immediately crawled into her bunk and laid down. She had hardly slept at all over the last few days, and was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"So what are you in for?" asked Mallory snidely.

Bella was taken aback by the question. One thing she had internalized from her pre-incarceration reading list was that there was an unwritten rule among inmates- as far as crimes allegedly committed, there was a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Don't ask anybody what they did, and definitely don't tell anyone what you did. This was especially relevant in women's prisons when the crime committed involved a child. Bella was pretty sure a DUI and hit and run involving a child fell into the "definitely do not tell" category.

"I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled, yawning.

"I'm not surprised. Word is that you're a prissy bitch, and you think you're too good to talk to anybody around here."

"I don't think that at all," Bella argued. As she considered Mallory's words, she wondered if that was really how she came across to others. It certainly wasn't her intent. All her life she had been painfully shy and introverted, and had difficulty opening up to people. She never meant to come across as rude. As she pondered these words through her haze of exhaustion, they were interrupted by Angela knocking on the side of the open cell door.

"Isabella, you're back!" she said cheerfully, as if Bella had just come back from vacation, not solitary confinement. "Lauren, could you give us a minute, please?"

"This is my space. As far as I'm concerned, you are a guest here," Lauren said, her eyes not wavering from the magazine she was idly flipping through.

"Don't you have a work detail to get to?"

"Whatever, bitch," Lauren spat, as she exited the cell. It really bothered Bella to hear her speak to Angela like that. She was one of the good ones- she didn't deserve that.

"Bella," Angela said gently, "I know that solitary can be very disorienting. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Bella wanted to tell her everything. She wanted James fired, or even arrested. The warning he gave her was clear though- she couldn't put Edward at risk. He was also probably correct that nobody would believe her. She wondered how many women he had hurt before her. Deciding it was too much of a risk, she told Angela, "I'm tired, I just want to sleep."

"The offer is open," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were settled in here. I have your locker combination. I also assigned you to a work detail, in the mail room. You can start today."

"I don't want it." Bella muttered, turning to face the wall.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice. You look exhausted, though, so I'm going to give you today, but you need to be in the mail room at 8am tomorrow, understand?"

Bella nodded into her pillow.

"Before I go, I want to make sure this combination works. Sometimes they mix up the numbers."

Bella begrudgingly climbed out of the bed, and dialed the three-digit combination she read off the paper Angela gave her. When the locker clicked open, she tucked the little slip of paper into her bra to memorize later.

To her surprise, her dreamcatcher sat there completely undamaged, atop her small stack of photos. Bella reached in and pulled out the tiny, colorful gift from Jacob, and delicately fingered the wolf in the center.

"That's beautiful. It means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Angela asked kindly. Bella bit her bottom lip and nodded. "I'm sorry, you must have thought it went missing. I didn't want it to get broken, so I used my key to put it in there when I moved your clothes and things."

"Thank you," Bella said quietly, feeling ridiculous for being so emotional over some string and wood. But it was really all she had that was hers.

"Alright then, I'll let you rest now, but I'll be back to make sure you get up for lunch. You look like you could use a good meal." Bella clutched the dreamcatcher tightly to her chest and curled back into bed, sleep finally claiming her.

She slept through morning rec time and, as promised, Angela was there and walked her to lunch. She even waited to make sure Bella got a tray. Bella picked at her food and only took one bite to appease Angela. Once she left, Bella pushed her tray away, her stomach protesting from having been empty for a few days.

After lunch, she thought about going to the supply closet on the chance that Edward would be there. They were supposed to meet Monday- maybe he would be there if he knew she got out today. She actually didn't know what day it was. Maybe Thursday? Was Christmas that weekend? She wasn't sure, and couldn't find it in her to care.

Not wanting to put Edward's job at risk, she decided against going to the closet. It would be better, safer, if they didn't speak at all. She also couldn't risk letting what James did to her slip. He would be so worried, and angry, and she didn't want to give him a reason to lose control.

During her compulsory AA meeting, she was reprimanded for falling asleep. After the meeting, Heidi called her up to the front of the room. "You need to come with me," she told her.

Bella was instantly on alert, her adrenaline flowing. "Where?"

"Visitation."

That can't be right, Bella thought, as her heart quickened its pace. Visitation hours were over and wouldn't start again until that evening. She knew she had no choice but to follow, but her panic was rising.

They did end up near visitation, but Heidi stopped before where they usually entered. "In here," she said, pointing to a nondescript door.

"This isn't the visitation area. What is this?" Bella asked nervously.

Heidi rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Just get inside, I don't have all day."

Bella entered the room nervously and heard the heavy door slam behind her. The space looked a bit like the interrogation room at the police station in Port Angeles- just two chairs and a table under harsh fluorescent lighting. On one side of the table sat a picturesque blonde goddess, perfectly proportional and sharply attired. She rose when she saw Bella and reached out a nicely manicured hand in greeting. "Isabella, I'm Rosalie Hale. I'm glad you could meet with me today."

Bella took her hand tentatively, still wary. She knew there was nobody by that name on her visitation list. Angela said she had to approve visitors. There was also an array of food options on the table. The smell of freshly baked bread made her mouth water.

"I didn't think visitors were allowed to bring food," Bella said, eyeing the woman suspiciously, distrusting of her motives.

"I'm not really a visitor, per se. This is a legal consultation. Plus, I have a reputation around here. They find that it's easier to keep me happy than let me stir up shit, which I'm more than capable of doing. Please sit, eat- I didn't know what you would like, so I got a little of everything. You look like you could use a good meal."

"I must look like shit. You're the second person to say that to me today," Bella said sardonically, as she slid a sandwich labeled Turkey toward her. She fiddled with the paper wrapping, not meeting Rosalie's eyes.

"I want you to know that there are no cameras in here, and no microphones. You can speak completely freely. As I said, I'm a lawyer. I run a small charity called Breaking Dawn. We work pro bono and represent people who have been wronged by the justice system. Edward Cullen contacted me regarding your case. I wanted to meet you, to see if we could work together."

Bella remained quiet, still fiddling with her sandwich, feeling a little overwhelmed. Edward had followed through on his promise that he would try to help her, and she was grateful for that. But she still felt on edge. She was having trouble thinking clearly, still exhausted and disoriented from the last few days.

"You don't trust me- I get it. Edward told me that your last lawyer screwed you over pretty good."

Bella looked up at the woman and studied her for a few moments, trying to find the right words. She wanted to trust her. She needed her help.

"It's not that I don't trust you… I just don't understand," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words.

"Don't understand what?" Rose asked, taking a bite of her own sandwich.

"What's in it for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you do this pro bono. Why?"

"I'm lucky enough to come from a family wealthy enough that I don't really have to work. My trust fund is enough that I can do this work and live off that money as long as I stay living within my means."

"You didn't really answer my question," Bella mumbled, taking a small bite of her sandwich. It was really good. Her stomach instantly demanded more.

"I didn't?" she asked, giving her a small smile.

"You told me how, not why."

Rose shrugged. "Because I'm good at it, and it makes me feel good to be able to contribute to society. Plus, I've been where you are."

"You were in prison?" Bella asked, surprised. "Did somebody frame you too?"

"Well, in a way. I actually did what I was convicted for. But I wasn't guilty."

"I don't understand."

"When I was in college, I met this man, Royce King. He was almost ten years older than me, and to be honest not even all that great looking, but he was charming as all hell. It didn't take long for me to fall head over heels. There was just something about the way he talked, and he absolutely worshiped me. I moved out of my dorm and into his high rise, and he treated me like a queen- for about six months.

"Then he started taking work home with him. It turned out that he had been lying to me the entire time we were together. He acted like a normal guy with a nine-to-five, but he was actually fairly well connected in the drug trade. Not street dealing, but the white-collar shit. He wanted me to help him move it. I refused, of course. That was the first time he beat me," Rosalie explained.

"That's terrible," Bella said sincerely. "What happened?"

"I tried to leave, and he threatened my family, including my little brother, Henry. By then I knew he was well connected enough that he wasn't bluffing. So, I stayed. I didn't know what to do, and the only way I could keep him from beating me was to play his games. He wanted me to use my looks to get into clubs unnoticed and attract new clients. When I was arrested, I had enough on me for at least a few years in prison, even with a clean record. I had the best lawyers that money could buy, but somehow his were better. Or he paid off the judge- I haven't quite figured that out. They sentenced me to two years, and I spent that time studying law. By the time I finished my sentence, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I would spend the rest of my days helping women who found themselves in situations like mine."

"I wish I had your resolve. You spent all your time studying and figuring out how to make the world a better place, and I've been more or less… wallowing," Bella said glumly.

"Our situations are a little different. And I didn't come into prison with that 'can do' attitude. It took me some time to adjust. Prison sucks. It's not designed to rehabilitate people. There are so many problems."

"Can I ask you a question?" Bella asked tentatively. "Were you ever, like… abused, when you were inside?"

"No, but I knew someone who was. It's unfortunately not all that uncommon. Bella, did someone here hurt you?" she asked very seriously.

"No, nothing like that," Bella answered a little too quickly. "It's just something I worry about, you know? I'm not strong. I'm not like you."

"Let me tell you a secret. Most people aren't strong when they are in prison. They all have their issues. Some are just better at hiding it, you know? But you aren't weak. And even if someone does hurt you, that doesn't make you weak. Crying and feeling sad doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

Bella nodded. The words were right, but she had trouble believing them.

"So let's talk about what we need to do to get you out of here. Edward told me the basics, but I want to hear your story. Will you let me help you?"

Bella hoped her instincts were right, and that Rosalie was genuinely there with good intent, and that she could trust her. "Please," she whispered desperately. "I really, really need your help."

Rose smiled. "Finish that damn sandwich and talk to me."

The mail room was easy. Bella's job was to sort piles of pre-screened mail and take the letters where they needed to go. Four hours of sorting and two hours of delivery. Six hours a day and 42 cents per hour.

She had come to find that today was Christmas Eve, and was told the mail volume was higher than usual with the influx of Christmas cards. Her hands were covered in glitter from the open envelopes by the time she was finished sorting.

As she made her way down the administrative corridor, she took mental notes of the office layout as she went so she could organize her mail in a more logical order. She froze mid-step when her eyes fell on one tiny placard on an office door. Forrester, James. She looked down in her cart and was disappointed to find a small stack of mail for him.

She debated on "losing" the mail, or sliding it under his door, but she didn't want to add fuel to that fire. So she knocked hesitantly, hoping he wasn't in.

"Come in." His gruff voice sent a shudder down her spine.

She opened the door to see that he wasn't alone. The redhead was with him, perched on the side of the desk. She sneered at Bella while James offered a creepy smile.

"Mail for you, Mr. Forrester," she said quietly, her eyes trained on the ground.

"Well bring it here."

She handed him the stack of letters, and his fingers brushed hers.

"So you're the new donkey, huh?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Mail runner? Donkey. That's you now?"

"Yes, sir," she answered timidly.

"Thank you, Isabella. I guess I'll be seeing you around." She shuffled quickly out of the room and leaned against the wall, taking a deep, shuddering breath. How could he act so normal, like nothing happened? How could she stand to have to see this creep every day?

Trying to shake off that uncomfortable encounter, she tried to focus on what was left of the mail. The rest was for the prisoners in the pods. They were supposed to go to the social workers to distribute. That meant going to Edward's office. While she wanted to see Edward, but she knew she shouldn't want to.

She went to Edward's pod first, to get it over with. When she was admitted inside, she noted that it looked exactly the same as her pod, just backwards. She pushed her cart over to the steps, grabbed the bundle of mail and made her way up to the landing where the guard station was, knowing his office was back there as well. She hoped Edward wasn't in, and she could just leave the mail with the guard. She wasn't in the right mindset to talk to him, especially not after her brief encounter with James. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the window and pointed to the stack of letters. The guard at the desk waved her back while pressing a button to open the door. The door buzzed, and she entered tentatively. "Is Mr. Cullen in?"

"Yeah, go ahead back."

She knocked on his door tentatively, and when it opened, he breathed, "Bella. Christ are you okay?" She glanced at the guard up front, who didn't seem to have heard Edward, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Mail for your pod, Mr. Cullen," she said, handing him the large bundle. "And these are addressed to you," she said, passing over a smaller stack.

He stood there gaping at her, confused by her coldness. "Bella, we need to talk," he whispered. "When can you meet me?"

She wanted to, so badly, but James' warning echoed loud and clear in her head. "Merry Christmas, sir," she said sadly, and swiftly walked out of his office.

That evening, she was surprised to see Edward walking towards her as she exited the cafeteria. She figured he would have left early given that it was Christmas Eve- most of the other administrative staff were already gone, and some didn't come in at all.

He didn't make eye contact or acknowledge that he saw her at all. Bella knew it was better this way, but she hated knowing that she probably hurt him earlier. She kept her eyes downcast and kept her pace as she walked back towards her pod. As she passed Edward, she felt his fingers brush her hip very lightly, then her pocket felt just a tiny bit heavier. He continued walking without a word.

Bella scrambled straight to the restroom and slipped into one of the stalls. Though there were no doors, the short walls offered a tiny bit of privacy. She reached into her pocket and found a balled up piece of paper covering something heavier. She pulled back the paper and unveiled a small stone, about the diameter of a half-dollar, but thicker. The stone was the exact mossy green shade of Edward's eyes, and it was smooth to the touch. She fingered the little stone curiously, wondering what it meant.

She looked down at his makeshift wrapping and her heart stuttered when she realized there was writing on the inside. She smoothed out the paper and read quickly.

Destroy this after reading.

I wanted to make sure you got this before Christmas. My mom gave this to me a couple of years after we came to live with her. My sister has one too. The stone is Connemara Marble- it's a rare stone, only found in Ireland. You're supposed to rub it in between your thumb and index finger to make your worries go away. It meant a lot to me when she gave it to me, and I want you to have it now. When you're feeling worried, or sad, or stressed, I hope you'll use it and remember that my heart is yours. Be safe.

The note wasn't signed. She took notice that he hadn't used any names at all. He was being careful as well.

Bella pocketed the stone, went to the sink, and soaked the note until the ink started to run. She then quietly tore it into pieces and threw it into two separate trash bins.

Later that night, she fell asleep clutching the little stone tightly in her fist, comforted by this tiny piece of his heart he had given her.