ELSA'S POV

I felt absolutely awful in the morning. I hadn't slept well; my arm burned and my head ached. It didn't help my outlook that Anna's face was smooth and remote as she kissed my forehead quickly and ducked out my window. I was afraid of the time I'd spent unconscious, afraid that she might have been thinking about right and wrong again while she watched me sleep. The anxiety seemed to ratchet up the intensity of the pounding in my head.

Anna was waiting for me at school, as usual, but her face was still wrong. There was something buried in her eyes that I couldn't be sure of—and it was unsettling. I didn't want to bring up last night, but I wasn't sure if avoiding the subject would be worse.

She opened my door for me.

"How do you feel?"

"Perfect," I lied, cringing as the sound of the slamming door echoed in my head.

We walked in silence, she shortened her stride to match mine. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but most of those questions would have wait, because they were for Alice: How was Jasper this morning? What had they said when I was gone? What had Rapunzel said? And most importantly, what could she see happening now in her strange, imperfect visions of the future? Could she guess what Anna was thinking, why she was so gloomy? Was there a foundation for the tenuous, instinctive fears that I couldn't seem to shake?

The morning passed slowly. I was impatient to see Alice, though I wouldn't be able to really talk to her with Anna there. Anna remained aloof. Occasionally she would ask about my arm, and I would lie.

Alice usually beat us to lunch; she didn't have to keep pace with me like Anna did. But she wasn't at the table, waiting with a tray of food she wouldn't eat.

Anna didn't say anything about her absence. I wondered to myself if her class was running late—until I saw Conner and Ben, who were in her fourth hour French class.

"Where's Alice?" I asked Anna anxiously.

She looked at the granola bar she was slowly pulverizing between her fingertips while she answered. "She's with Jasper."

"Is he okay?"

"He's gone away for a while."

"What? Where?"

Elsa shrugged. "Nowhere in particular."

"And Alice, too," I said with sadness. Of course, if Jasper needed her, she would go.

"Yes. She'll be gone for a while. She was trying to convince him to go to Denali."

Denali was where the other band of unique vampires—good ones like the Cullens lived. Taras and his family. I'd heard of them now and again. Anna had run to them last winter when my arrival had made Forks difficult for her. Laurent, the most civilized member of Hans's little coven, had gone there rather than siding with Hans against the Cullens. It made sense for Alice to encourage Jasper to go there.

I swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. The guilt made my head bow and my shoulders slump. They had to leave because of me, because it was difficult to be around me, just like Rapunzel. I felt terrible.

"Is your arm bothering you?" she asked solicitously.

"Who cares about my stupid arm?" I muttered sadly.

She didn't answer, and I laid my heads on my folded arms on the table.

By the end of the day, the silence was becoming ridiculous. I didn't want to be the one to break it, but apparently that was my only choice if I wanted her to talk to me.

"You'll come over later tonight?" I asked as she walked me—silently—to my truck. She always came over.

"Later?"

It pleased me that she seemed surprised. "I have to work. I had to trade with Mrs. Newton to get yesterday off."

"Oh," she murmured.

"So you'll come over when I'm home, though, right?" I hated that I felt suddenly unsure about this.

"If you want me to."

"I always want you," I reminded her, with perhaps a little more intensity than the conversation required.

I expected she would laugh, or smile, or react somehow to my words.

"All right, then," she said indifferently.

She kissed my forehead again before she shut the door on me. Then she turned her back and loped gracefully toward her car.

I was at least able to drive out of the parking lot before the rising feeling of dread hit, it only worsened by the time I got to Newton's.

She just needed time, I reasoned. She would get over this. Maybe she was sad because her family was disappearing. But Alice and Jasper would come back soon, and Rapunzel and Cassandra, too. If it would help, I would stay away from the big white house on the river—I'd never set foot there again. That would be okay. I'd still see Alice at school. She would have to come back for school, right? And she was at my place all the time anyway. She wouldn't want to hurt Agnarr's feelings by staying away.

No doubt I would also run into Frederic's at the hospital. Maybe I'd see Arial around town, and perhaps Cassandra would want to come visit, too.

After all, what had happened last night was nothing. Nothing had happened. So I fell down—that was the story of my life. Compared to last spring, it seemed especially unimportant. Hans had left me broken and nearly dead from blood loss—and yet Anna had handled the interminable weeks in the hospital much better than this. Was it because, this time, it wasn't an enemy she'd had to protect me from? Because it was her brother?

Maybe it would be better if she could just hold out until we left for college. If she could just last through the school year, we could go away. Surely Anna could wait a year. What was a year to an immortal? It didn't seem like that much to me.

I was able to talk myself into a relatively composed state that would allow for working. I got out of my truck and walked to the store. Makayla Newton had beaten me here today, and she smiled and waved when I came in. I grabbed my vest, waving back. I was still distracted by Anna's behavior.

Makayla interrupted my thoughts. "How was your birthday?"

"Oh," I sighed, "It was nothing special."

Makayla looked at me from the corners of her eyes with confusion.

Work dragged. I wanted to see Anna, to talk to her. I had been quiet and passive so far, but that wasn't going to help either of us. I needed to be assertive and we needed to talk about this problem. I hoped Anna would be past the worst of this, whatever it was exactly, by the time I saw her again. I tried to convince myself it was nothing; that everything would go back to normal.

The relief I felt when I turned onto my street and saw Anna's silver car parked in front of my house was more than welcome. Somewhere, in the back of my head, it bothered me that her presence alone had such sway over my mood.

I hurried through the front door, calling out as soon as I was inside.

"Dad? Anna?"

As I spoke, I could hear the distinctive theme music from ESPN's SportsCenter coming from the living room.

"In here," Agnarr called.

I hung my raincoat on its peg and hurried around the corner.

Anna was in the armchair, my father on the sofa. Both had their eyes trained on the TV. The focus was normal for my father. Not so much for Anna.

"Hi," I said weakly.

"Hey, Elsa," my father answered, eyes never moving. "We just had cold pizza. I think it's still on the table."

"Okay."

I took a tentative step towards the kitchen, my eyes on Anna. She finally looked over at me with a polite smile. "I'll wait here," she said simply. Her eyes strayed back to the TV.

I stared for another minute, confused. Neither one seemed to notice. I could feel that feeling of dread resurfacing. I hurried to the kitchen.

The pizza held no interest for me; I had no appetite. I sat in my chair and stared at nothing in particular. Something was very wrong, maybe more wrong than I'd realized. The sounds of the television continued in the living room.

I had no frame of reference for this. I had never had a girlfriend, let alone a vampire girlfriend before. What was I supposed to do? My resolve to talk to Anna about the problem wavered; would that help? Would that only upset her more? If her temper was the problem I'd know instantly how to deal with that, but this was different. And more than that, this didn't just concern Anna and me; this changed things with her family. Jasper was certainly off limits, maybe if we worked that out Anna wouldn't be so… whatever she was right now.

My head was spinning trying to figure out what I was supposed to do. In front of me, on the table, was the scrapbook Iduna had sent. A distraction, and a welcome one at that. I touched the pretty cover of the scrapbook, and sighed, thinking of my mother. I flipped the front cover open. Little metal corners were already in place to hold the first picture. I decided to distract myself by getting started filling the pages with memories. Everything suddenly seemed fleeting for some reason.

I pulled my new phone out of my pocket and looked at the solitary photo I had taken of Anna. On the screen it was beautiful, and she looked so carefree and happy. So much had changed, and so abruptly. The girl sitting in my living room now was completely different. That dread reared its head again.

I didn't want to think about it. I headed upstairs with my phone eager to distract myself.

My room hadn't really changed all that much in the seventeen years since my mother had been there. The walls were still light blue, but now dark red curtains hung in front of the window instead of the pastel yellow ones she had hung. There was a bed, rather than a crib, but she would recognize the quilt draped untidily over the top—it had been a gift from Gran.

Regardless, I snapped a picture of my room. There wasn't much else I could do tonight—it was too dark outside. I felt the urge to take as many pictures as I could, to preserve a moment in time that felt like it was slipping away.

Change was coming. I could feel it. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, either.

I took my time coming back down the stairs, phone in hand, trying to ignore the knots in my stomach as I thought of the strange distance I didn't want to see in Anna's eyes. She would get over this. That's what couples did—they got over things.

I had the camera on the phone ready as I leaned around the corner, being sneaky. I was sure there was no chance that I had caught Anna by surprise, but she didn't look up. I felt a brief shiver as something icy twisted in my stomach; I ignored that and took the picture. The phone made a loud shutter sound as the flash lit up the room.

They both looked at me then. Agnarr frowned. Anna's face was empty, expressionless.

"What are you doing, Elsa?" Agnarr complained.

"Oh, come on." I forced a smile as I went to sit on the floor in front of the sofa where Agnarr lounged. "You know Mom will be calling soon to ask if I'm using my presents. She'd love to see some pictures."

"Why are you taking pictures of me, though?" he grumbled.

"Because you suggested I take pictures with the phone," I teased, keeping it light. "You're obligated to be one of my subjects."

He mumbled something unintelligible.

"Hey, Anna," I said, with admirable indifference. "Take one of me and my dad together."

I threw the phone toward her, carefully avoiding her eyes, and knelt beside the arm of the sofa where David's face was. Agnarr sighed.

"You need to smile, Elsa," Anna murmured.

I did my best, and the phone flashed.

"Let me take one of you kids," Agnarr suggested. I knew he was just trying to shift the camera's focus from himself.

Anna stood and lightly tossed him the phone.

I went to stand beside Anna, and the arrangement felt formal and strange to me. She put on hand lightly on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm more securely around her waist. I wanted to look at her face, but I was afraid to.

"Smile, Elsa," Agnarr reminded me again.

I took a deep breath and smiled. The flash blinded me.

"Enough pictures for tonight," Agnarr said then, handing me back my phone. "You can take more tomorrow."

Anna dropped her hand from my shoulder and twisted casually out of my arm. She sat back down on the armchair.

I hesitated, and then went to sit against the sofa again. I decided to be indifferent, too. It was harder than I thought it would be. I stared at the TV screen in front of me, seeing nothing.

When the show ended, I hadn't moved an inch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anna stand.

"I'd better get home," she said.

Agnarr didn't look up from the commercial. "See ya."

I got awkwardly to my feet—I was stiff from sitting on the floor—and followed Anna out the front door. Sh went straight to her car.

"Will you stay?" I asked, no hope in my voice.

I expected her answer, so it didn't really hurt.

"Not tonight."

I didn't ask for a reason.

She got in her car and drove away while I stood there, unmoving. I barely noticed that it was raining. I waited, without knowing what I waited for, until the door opened behind me.

"Elsa, what are you doing?" Agnarr asked, surprised to see me standing there alone and dripping.

"Nothing." I turned and walked back to the house.

It was a long, restless night.

I woke up as soon as there was a faint light outside my window. I showered and dressed for school mechanically, feeling tense and uneasy. After I had eaten a bowl of cereal, I decided it was light enough for more pictures to distract myself. I took one of my truck, and then the front of the house. I turned and snapped a few of the forest by Agnarr's house. Funny how it didn't seem sinister like it used to. I realized how much I'd grown to love it—the green, the timelessness, the mystery of the woods. All of it.

I slid my phone back into my pocket, eager to take more pictures at school. I tried to concentrate on my little project rather than the fact that Anna apparently hadn't gotten over things during the night.

Along with the unease and dread, I was beginning to feel impatience. How long could this last?

It lasted all through the morning. She walked silently beside me, never seeming to actually look at me. I tried to concentrate on my classes, but not even English could hold my attention. Mr. Berty had to repeat his question about Lady Capulet twice before I realized he was talking to me. I stuttered out the answer, embarrassed, while Anna continued to ignore me.

At lunch, the silence continued. I was tired of it, I wanted to scream to break monotony. Trying to further distract myself, I leaned across the table's invisible line and spoke to Jeremy.

"Hey, Jeremy?"

"What's up, Elsa?"

"Could you do me a favor?" I asked, reaching into my bag. "My parents got me this new phone and my mom wants me to take pictures for a scrapbook. Will you guys all put your numbers in it and take some pictures of everybody?"

I handed her my phone.

"Oh my god, I've been asking my dad for this one!" he snatched it away full of excitement, and turned to snap a candid shot of Makayla with her mouth full.

A picture war ensued. I watched them hand the camera around the table, giggling and complaining about unflattering angles. It brightened my mood, a little, to see them so happy. I watched as they took pictures of each other, of themselves, and added their numbers into the phone. It was all so effortless, so easy. So normal.

"I think we better stop before we fill up your phone," Jeremy finally snatched the phone back from Makayla and returned it to me.

"Thanks, Jeremy. I appreciate it."

"I hope you know I'll be texting you daily." Jeremy grinned.

"I would expect nothing less." I smiled.

After school, Anna walked me back to the parking lot in silence. I had to work again, and for once, I was glad. Time together obviously wasn't helping things. Maybe some time apart would be better.

Work progressed as slow as usual. I could barely pay attention the entire time. At home, I said a brief hi to Agnarr, grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen, and hurried up to my room.

I sat in the middle of my bed and connected my phone to my new laptop to download the pictures.

When the first picture came up on the screen I sighed. Anna looked just as beautiful as she did in real life, staring at me out of the screen with the warm eyes I'd missed for the past few days. It made me sad to see her happy and warm knowing that it was only a few short days ago. I made the picture my phone's wallpaper.

I scrolled through the rest of the pictures quickly, but three stood out to me.

The first was the picture of Anna in the kitchen, her warm eyes touched with tolerant amusement. The second was Anna and Agnarr, watching ESPN. The difference in Anna's expression was severe. Her eyes were careful here, reserved. Still breathtakingly beautiful, but her face was colder, more like a sculpture, less alive.

The last was the picture of Anna and me standing awkwardly side by side. Anna's face was the same as she last, cold and statue-like. But that wasn't the most troubling part of this photograph. The coldness between the two of us was almost painful. Visible even in the photograph. Anyone who looked at us would think we barely knew each other, not that we'd promised forever. I closed the picture with a gnawing ache of sadness.

Instead of doing my homework, I stayed up to print out the pictures and put them into the album. With a ballpoint pen, I scrawled captions under all the pictures, the names and dates. I got to the picture of Anna, warm and loving, and put it on the first page.

When I was done, I printed off a second set of prints in an envelope and penned a long thank-you letter to Iduna.

Anna still hadn't come over. I had hoped maybe she would show up at some point while I was busy with the photos, but that hope was in vain. I tried to remember the last time she'd stayed away like this, without an excuse, a phone call… she never had.

Again, I didn't sleep well.

Anna wasn't there when I arrived at school. Despite the dark rain clouds in the sky, she was oddly absent. The entire day was a slow blur as my heart sunk lower and lower. I felt relief when I saw her waiting for me by my truck at the end of the day, but it faded quickly when I saw her stony face.

It was hard to remember the reason for all this mess. My birthday already felt like the distant past. If only Alice would come back. Soon. Before this got any more out of hand. I decided then, seeing her across the lot, that we would talk it out, no excuses. If she still wouldn't see reason, then I was going to see Frederic tomorrow. I had to do something.

I reached my truck, my stomach full of knots.

"Do you mind if I come over today?" she asked before I could speak.

"Of course not."

"Now?" she asked again, opening my door for me.

"Sure," I kept my voice even, though I didn't like the urgency in her tone. "I was just going to drop a letter for my mom in the mailbox on the way. I'll meet you there."

She looked at the fat envelope on the passenger seat. Suddenly, she reached over me and snagged it.

"I'll do it," she said quietly. "And I'll still beat you there." She smiled my favorite crooked smile, but it was wrong. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Okay," I agreed, unable to smile back. She shut the door, and headed toward her car parked near the back of the lot. As she walked away I realized she was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing the last time I saw her, like she hadn't changed.

She did beat me home. She was parked in Agnarr's spot when I pulled up in front of the house. That was a bad sign. She didn't plan to stay, then. I shook my head and took a deep breath, trying to build up my courage.

She got out of her car when I stepped out of the truck, and came to meet me. She reached to take my book bag from me. That was normal. But she shoved it back onto the seat. That was not normal.

"Come for a walk with me," she suggested in an unemotional voice, taking my hand.

I didn't answer. I couldn't think of a way to protest, but I instantly knew that I wanted to. I didn't like this. This is bad, this is very bad, the voice in my head repeated again and again.

But she didn't wait for an answer. She pulled me along toward the east side of the yard, where the forest encroached. I followed unwillingly, trying to comprehend the emotions I was feeling. It was what I wanted, I reminded myself. The chance to talk it all through. So why was I feeling so anxious?

We'd gone only a few steps into the trees when she stopped. We were barely on the trail—I could still see the house.

Some walk.

Anna leaned against a tree and stared at me, her expression unreadable.

"Okay, let's talk," I said. It sounded braver than I felt.

She took a deep breath.

"Elsa, we're leaving."

I was confused, I didn't understand why we would leave so suddenly. College was a year off.

"Why now? Another year—"

"Elsa, it's time. How much longer could we stay in Forks, after all? Frederic can barely pass for thirty and he's claiming thirty-three now. We'd have to start over soon regardless."

Her answer confused me even more. I stared at her for a moment.

"I can't just leave, Anna. Agnarr, my friends…" I trailed off.

She stared at me coldly.

I felt my stomach drop, my heart began beating hard. I realized I'd misunderstood.

"When you say we—"

"I mean my family and myself." Each word separate and distinct.

I shook my head back and forth mechanically, trying to clear it. She waited without any sign of impatience. It took a few minutes before I could speak.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"We're leaving. And where we're going… it's not the right place for you."

"But, Anna..."

"I'm not good for you, Elsa."

I stared at her, uncomprehending. "Don't be ridiculous."

"My world is not for you," she said grimly.

"What happened with Jasper—that was nothing, Anna."

"You're right," she agreed. "Nothing compared to what it could have been. In fact, it was exactly what was to be expected."

"But, but… just leaving?"

"I told you, Anna—"

"You promised me in Phoenix, Anna." I cut her off. "You promised that we would see this through. You promised you would stay—"

"As long as it was best for you," she interrupted to correct me.

"What is this about Anna?" I felt the anger in my voice, "Something about souls? About right or wrong? Frederic told me about all that, and I don't care. Don't throw this away because of it. Let's talk this out, let's discuss it."

She took a deep breath and stared, unseeingly at the ground for a long moment. Her mouth twisted the tiniest bit. When she finally looked up, her eyes were different, harder—like the liquid gold had frozen solid.

"Elsa, I don't want you to come with me." She spoke the words slowly and precisely, her cold eyes on my face, watching as I absorbed what she was really saying.

There was a pause as I repeated the words in my head a few times, before understanding came to me.

"You… don't… want me." It was a statement, not a question.

"No."

I felt a wave of sadness hit me hard, coupled by a flicker of anger that I didn't quite understand. I stared into her eyes. She stared back without apology. Her eyes were like topaz—hard and clear and very deep. I felt like I could see into them for miles and miles, yet nowhere in their bottomless depths could I see a contradiction to the word she'd spoken.

"Well, that changes things." My voice was quiet as the sadness was replaced by an overwhelming numbness. I understood what she was saying, but it didn't make any sense. Not after this past year, not after what we had been through in just the first months of our life together. Not after everything she had said and promised to me.

She looked away into the trees as she spoke again. "Of course, I'll always love you… in a way. But what happened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change. Because I'm… tired of pretending to be something I'm not, Elsa. I am not human." She looked back, and the icy planes of her perfect face were not human. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that."

"Don't." My voice was a hoarse whisper, my throat had gone dry. "Don't do this."

She just stared at me, and I could see from her eyes that my words were far too late. She already had.

"You're not good for me, Elsa." She turned her earlier words around, and these hurt more, cut deeper.

"How dare you?" My words surprised me, her eyes flickered minutely. "After everything? After everything you've said and promised? After everything I went through just to be with you?"

"It shouldn't be so difficult to be with someone." Was all she said in reply.

I could feel the numbness being replaced by hurt and anger.

"But I made that choice, didn't I?" I snapped, "I chose this. But maybe I wouldn't have if you hadn't made me believe you loved me. If you hadn't led me on for a year."

She said nothing, but I saw some tinge of remorse in her face and it gave me some satisfaction. It was short lived as realizing that she regretted leading me on meant that she had, in fact, not loved me like she said. That it was all a lie. A momentary distraction. My anger was thoroughly dwarfed by the sadness again.

"So, that's it?"

She nodded once.

The numbness flooded back, drowning me.

"I would like to ask one favor, though, if that's not too much," she said.

"A favor?" I choked the words out, disbelievingly.

As I watched, her frozen eyes melted. The gold became liquid again, molten, burning down into mine with an intensity that was overwhelming.

"Don't do anything reckless or dangerous," she ordered, no longer detached. "Keep yourself safe. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I could only nod.

Her eyes cooled, the distance returned. "I'm thinking of Agnarr, of course. He needs you. Take care of yourself—for him."

I nodded again. "Of course."

She seemed to relax just a little.

"And I'll make you a promise in return," she said. "I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without any more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed."

"Another promise," I said coldly. I could hear the blood pounding faster than normal behind my ears. Her voice sounded farther away.

She smiled gently. "Don't worry. You're human—your memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind."

"And your memories?" I asked. It sounded like there was something stuck in my throat, like I was choking.

"Well"—she hesitated for a short second—"I won't forget. But my kind… we're very easily distracted." She smiled; the smile was tranquil and it did not touch her eyes.

She took a step away from me. "That's everything, I suppose. We won't bother you again."

The plural caught my attention.

"Alice isn't coming back," I realized. I don't know how she heard me—the words made no sound—but she seemed to understand.

She shook her head slowly, always watching my face.

"No. They're all gone. I stayed behind to tell you goodbye."

"Alice is gone? Cassandra?" My voice was blank with disbelief.

"They wanted to say goodbye, but I convinced them that a clean break would be better for you."

I felt dizzy; it was hard to concentrate. Her words swirled around in my head, and I heard the doctor at the hospital in Phoenix, last spring, as he showed me the X-rays.You can see it's a clean break, his finger traced along the picture of my severed bone.That's good. It will heal more easily, more quickly.

I tried to keep my breathing normal, I felt like I was in some sort of dream, or a nightmare.

"Goodbye, Elsa," she said in the same quiet, peaceful voice.

"Wait!" I choked out the word, reaching for her, taking a stumbling step forward.

I thought she was reaching for me, too. But her cold hands locked around my wrists and pinned them to my sides. She leaned down, and pressed her lips very lightly to my forehead for the briefest instant. My eyes closed.

"Take care of yourself," she breathed, cool against my skin.

There was a light, unnatural breeze. My eyes flashed open. The leaves on a small vine maple shuddered with the gentle wind of her passage.

She was gone.

My body was numb, and my mind went blank. Not knowing why, I stumbled forward through the forest. I knew it was useless, I knew I would never catch up to her, never find her. There were no footprints, the leaves were still again, but I walked forward without thinking. I could not do anything else. I had to keep moving. If I stopped looking for her then it really was over.

Love… over.

I needed to find her. To tell her how I felt, how hurt I was. I needed to talk, to yell, to cry… something. She was right, I was human. And she had robbed me of a human goodbye, of human closure. She had said her goodbye and left, and left me with nothing—no chance to really say or do anything. It was cold, harsh, selfish… it was cowardly of her. Anger and betrayal fueled my steps now. I walked and walked.

Suddenly, I began to regain a sense of clarity. I would never find her, and worse, I was lost. Very lost. I looked around helplessly, not recognizing anything, seeing no visible path. I felt a twinge of panic join the feelings of hurt, sadness, and betrayal. The panic only mounted as I pushed through the thick undergrowth. Time made no sense as I trudged on. It was hours passing, but also only seconds. The forest looked the same no matter how far I went. I started to worry I was traveling in a circle, a very small circle at that, and the panic mounted. I stumbled often, and, as it grew darker and darker, I fell often, too.

Utterly lost, I began to hyperventilate. My hands tensing and un-tensing, shaking more and more violently. I was completely panicked and scared.

Finally, I tripped over something—it was black now, I had no idea what caught my foot—and I stayed down. I rolled onto my side, trying to breathe, but I was still hyperventilating. Nothing felt real anymore. I was dizzy and nauseous. I curled up on the wet bracken, forcing myself to take measured breaths.

As I lay there, raking in gasping breaths, I had a feeling that more time was passing than I realized. I couldn't remember how long it had been since nightfall. Was it always so dark here at night? Surely, as a rule, a little bit of moonlight would filter down through the clouds, through the chinks in the canopy of trees, and find ground.

Not tonight. Tonight the sky was utterly black. Perhaps there was no moon tonight—a lunar eclipse, a new moon.

A new moon. I shivered, though I wasn't cold.

It was black for a long time before I heard them calling.

Someone was shouting my name. It was muted, muffled by the wet growth that surrounded me, but it was definitely my name. I didn't recognize the voice. I tried to answer, but I only heard the strange, strangled gasps coming from my throat. I wondered why I couldn't speak, it took me a long time to think of a reason and, eventually, the calling stopped.

Sometime later, the rain woke me up. I don't think I had fallen asleep; probably passed out from hyperventilating. I felt numb still, more numb than I had before and it wasn't from the cold.

Though I was cold, freezing in fact. The rain bothered me a little, I unwrapped my arms from around my legs to shield my face.

It was then that I heard the calling again. It was farther away this time, and sometimes it sounded like several voices were calling at once. I tried to breathe deeply and answer, but no sound came from my throat.

Suddenly, there was another sound, startlingly close. A kind of snuffling, an animal sound. It sounded big. I felt the panic rise again, overtaking the numbness, but the sound went away.

The rain continued, and I could feel the water pooling up against my cheek. I was trying to gather the strength to get up when I saw the light.

At first it was just a dim glow reflecting off the bushes in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter, illuminating a large space unlike the focused beam of a flashlight. The light broke through the closest brush, and I could see that it was a propane lantern, but that was all I could see—the brightness blinded me for a moment.

"Elsa."

The voice was deep and unfamiliar, but full of recognition. He wasn't calling my name to search, he was acknowledging that I was found.

I stared up—impossibly high it seemed—at the dark face that I could now see above me. I was vaguely aware that the stranger probably only looked so tall because my head was still on the ground.

"Have you been hurt?"

I tried to respond, but still no sound came from my lips. I only stared.

"Elsa, my name is Kristoff Uley."

There was nothing familiar about this name.

"Agnarr sent me to look for you."

Agnarr? Agnarr was looking for me, and Agnarr mattered. I needed to get up.

The tall man held out a hand. I tried to reach out to grab it, but my own had was shaking violently and I wasn't sure why.

His black eyes looked concerned. In a quick and supple motion, he pulled me up from the ground and into his arms.

I didn't feel cold anymore as he held me, loping swiftly through the wet forest. Some part of me knew this should upset me—being carried away by a stranger. But my mind wasn't able to focus right now. I hooked my arms around his neck, and buried my head in his shoulder.

It didn't seem like too much time passed before I heard the deep babble of many many voices. Same Uley slowed as he approached the commotion.

"I've got her!" he called in a booming voice that rumbled from his chest and through my body.

The babble ceased, and then picked up again with more intensity. A confusing swirl of faces moved over me. Kristoff's voice was the only one that made sense in the chaos, perhaps because face was still buried in his shoulder.

"No, I don't think she's hurt," he told someone. "She's shaking though, pretty badly."

I wasn't cold anymore, at least I didn't think I was.

"She wouldn't say," Kristoff continued, "All she said was 'She's gone.'"

Had I said that? I didn't recall.

"Elsa , baby girl, are you all right?"

That was one voice I would know anywhere—even distorted, as it was now, with worry.

"Agnarr?" I turned my head slowly, my voice sounded strange and weak.

"I'm right here, Elsa."

I felt a hand on the back of my head, "Why is she shaking so bad?"

"Let's get her inside," Kristoff Uley suggested.

He walked quickly, I wished I could tell him to put me down and let me walk, but I couldn't find my voice. I managed to finally open my eyes.

There were lights everywhere, held by the crowd walking with Kristoff and Agnarr. It felt like a parade. Or a funeral procession. I closed my eyes again.

"We're almost home now," I heard Agnarr mumble now and then.

I opened my eyes again when I heard the door unlock. We were on the porch of our house, and Agnarr was holding the door open for Kristoff.

Kristoff carried me to the couch in the living room.

"I'm all wet," I objected feebly.

"It's all right," I heard Agnarr say gruffly. And then he was talking to someone else. "Blankets are in the cupboard at the top of the stairs."

"Elsa?" It was Kristoff's voice, very low and soft. "You can let go now, you're home."

I realized I hadn't released my grip on Kristoff's neck, I let go and wrapped my arms around me tightly. As soon as he moved away I suddenly felt freezing cold.

"Elsa?" a new voice asked. I looked at the gray-haired woman leaning over me, and recognition came after a few slow seconds.

"Dr. Gerandy?" I mumbled.

"That's right, dear," she said. "Are you hurt, Elsa?"

It took me a minute to think that through. I was confused by the memory of Kristoff Uley's similar question in the woods. Only Kristoff had asked something else: Have you been hurt? He'd said. The difference seemed significant somehow.

Dr. Gerandy was waiting. One eyebrow rose, and the wrinkles on her forehead deepened.

"I'm not hurt," I said quietly. Not physically, at least.

Her warm hand touched my forehead, and her fingers pressed against the inside of my wrist. I watched her lips as she counted to herself, her eyes on her watch.

"What happened to you?" she asked gently.

I froze under her hand, feeling panic and anxiety.

"Did you get lost in the woods?" she prodded. I was aware of several other people listening. Three tall men with dark faces, from La Push, the Quileute Native American reservation down the coastline, I guessed—Kristoff Uley among them, were standing very close together and staring at me. Mr. Newton was there with Makayla and Mr. Weber, Angela's father; they were all watching me more surreptitiously than the strangers. Other deep voices rumbled from the kitchen and outside the front door. Half the town must have been looking for me.

Agnarr was the closest. He leaned in to hear my answer.

"Yes," I whispered. "I got lost."

The doctor nodded, thoughtful, her fingers probing gently against the glands under my jaw. Agnarr's face hardened.

"Do you feel nauseous or dizzy?" Dr. Gerandy asked.

I closed my eyes and nodded.

"I think she had a severe panic attack, probably induced from being lost in the woods," I heard the doctor mutter to Agnarr after a moment. "She should be fine now. Let her sleep it off, and I'll come check on her tomorrow," she paused. She must have looked at her watch, because she added, "Well, later today actually."

There was a creaking sound as they both pushed off from the couch to get to their feet.

"Is it true?" Agnarr whispered. Their voices were farther away now. I strained to hear. "Did they leave?"

"Dr. Cullen asked us not to say anything," Dr. Gerandy answered. "The offer was very sudden; they had to choose immediately. Frederic didn't want to make a big production out of leaving."

"A little warning might have been nice," Agnarr grumbled.

Dr. Gerandy changed the subject, "Does Anna have a history of panic attacks?"

Agnarr's response was delayed, like something was on his mind, "Not in years."

"If they continue, I can prescribe something." Dr. Gerandy said softly.

I stopped listening. I was drifting in and out of alertness. I heard Agnarr whisper thanks to the volunteers as, one by one, they left. I felt his fingers on my forehead, and then the weight of another blanket. The phone rang a few times, and he hurried to catch it before it could wake me. He muttered reassurances in a low voice to the callers.

"Yeah, we found her. She's okay. She got lost. She's fine now," he said again and again.

I heard the springs in the armchair groan when he settled himself in for the night.

A few minutes later, the phone rang again.

Agnarr moaned as he struggled to his feet, and then he rushed, stumbling to the kitchen. I pulled my head deeper under the blankets not wanting to listen to the same conversation again.

"Yeah," Agnarr said, and yawned.

His voice changed, it was much more alert when he spoke again. "Where?" There was a pause. "You sure it's outside the reservation?" Another short pause. "But what could be burning out there?" He sounded both worried and mystified. "Look, I'll call down there and check it out."

I listened with more interest as he punched in a number.

"Hey, Billy, it's Agnarr—sorry I'm calling so early… no, she's fine. She's sleeping… Thanks, but that's not why I called. I just got a call from Mrs. Stanley, and she says that from her second-story window she can see fires out on the sea cliffs, but I didn't really… Oh!" Suddenly there was an edge in his voice—irritation… or anger. "And why are they doing that? Uh huh. Really?" He said it sarcastically. "Well, don't apologize to me. Yeah, yeah. Just make sure the flames don't spread… I know, I know, I'm surprised they got them lit at all in this weather."

Agnarr hesitated, and then added grudgingly. "Thanks for sending Sam and the other boys up. You were right—they do know the forest better than we do. It was Kristoff who found her, so I owe you one… Yeah, I'll talk to you later," he agreed, still sour, before hanging up.

Agnarr muttered something incoherent as he shuffled back to the living room.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He hurried to my side.

"I'm sorry I woke you, kiddo."

"Is something burning?"

"It's nothing," he assured me. "Just some bonfires out on the cliffs."

"Bonfires?" I asked. My voice didn't sound curious. It sounded dead.

Agnarr frowned. "Some of the kids from the reservation being rowdy," he explained.

"Why?" I wondered dully.

I could tell he didn't want to answer. He looked at the floor under his knees. "They're celebrating the news." His tone was bitter.

There was only one piece of news I could think of, try as I might not to. And then the pieces snapped together. "Because the Cullens left," I whispered. "They don't like the Cullens in La Push— I'd forgotten about that."

The Quileutes had their superstitions about the "cold ones," the blood-drinkers that were enemies to their tribe, just like they had their legends of the great flood and wolf-men ancestors. Just stories, folklore, to most of them. Then there were the few that believed. Agnarr's good friend Billy Black believed, though even Honeymaren, his own Daughter, thought he was full of stupid superstitions. Billy had warned me to stay away from the Cullens.…

The name stirred something inside me, something that began to claw its way toward the surface, something I knew I didn't want to face.

"It's ridiculous," Agnarr spluttered.

We sat in silence for a moment. The sky was no longer black outside the window. Somewhere behind the rain, the sun was beginning to rise.

"Elsa?" Agnarr asked.

I looked at him uneasily.

"She left you alone in the woods?" Agnarr guessed.

I deflected his question. "How did you know where to find me?" My mind shied away from the inevitable awareness that was coming, coming quickly now.

"Your note," Agnarr answered, surprised. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a much-abused piece of paper. It was dirty and damp, with multiple creases from being opened and refolded many times. He unfolded it again, and held it up as evidence. The messy handwriting was remarkably close to my own.

Going for a walk with Anna, up the path, Back soon, A.

"When you didn't come back, I tried calling your phone but you didn't answer. I called the Cullens, and no one answered there, either," Agnarr said in a low voice. "I found your phone in your school bag in the truck and I got worried, so I called the hospital, and Dr. Gerandy told me that Frederic was gone."

"Where did they go?" I mumbled.

He stared at me. "Didn't Anna tell you?"

I shook my head. The sound of her name unleashed the thing that was clawing inside of me—a pain, mingled with anger that knocked me breathless, astonished me with its force.

Agnarr eyed me doubtfully as he answered. "Frederic took a job with a big hospital in Los Angeles. I guess they threw a lot of money at him."

Sunny L.A. The last place they would never really go. I remembered my nightmare with the mirror… the bright sunlight shimmering off her skin—

Agony ripped through me with the memory of her face.

"I want to know if Anna left you alone out there in the middle of the woods," Agnarr insisted.

Her name sent another wave of emotion through me. I hesitated, but ultimately shook my head. "She left me right here on the trail, in sight of the house… but I tried to follow her."

Agnarr started to say something; I cut him off. "I want to go to my room and lay down, I can't talk about this right now, Dad. I'm sorry."

He sighed, and nodded gently. I forced myself off the couch, I felt heavy. I noticed my school bag sitting on the floor by the stairs. I scooped it up as I forced myself up the stairs.

Then the thought hit me.

Someone had been in the house to leave a note for Agnarr, a note that would lead him to find me. A horrible suspicion began to grow in my head. I rushed to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me before I ran to the CD player by my bed.

Everything looked exactly the same as I'd left it. I pressed down on the top of the CD player. The latch unhooked, and the lid slowly swung open.

It was empty.

I fished my phone out of my school bag and pressed the button on the front. The wallpaper on the screen was the picture of me and Agnarr. I frantically scrolled through the photos folder on the phone—my room, me and Agnarr, the truck, the house, my friends… No Anna.

The album Iduna a had given me sat on the floor beside the bed, just where I'd put it last. I lifted the cover with a shaking hand.

I didn't have to flip any farther than the first page. The little metal corners no longer held a picture in place. The page was blank except for my own handwriting scrawled across the bottom:Anna Cullen, Agnarr's kitchen, Sept. 13th.

I stopped there. I was sure that she would have been very thorough.

It will be as if I'd never existed, she'd promised me.

I dropped the book on the floor and sat slowly on the bed. It was over. Break ups happen, sure, but this felt different. At least, I thought it felt different. I had nothing to compare it to. But I had nearly died just to be with Anna, I had nearly given up everything for her, we had promised each other forever. And now, she was gone. Just like that. So easily.

It was then that I realized how foolish I had been. The waves of heartache that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washed over my head, pulling me under.

I had given Anna Cullen too much, and now I had nothing left.

me crying in corner