Thanks to my readers, prereaders, and beta, Fran, for everything they do. All chapters are written, and Fran is editing and sending them back to me at an alarming speed. I am MOST grateful.

Bella

"What time are you off?" Charlie asks around his cup of coffee, his voice still heavy with sleep. He is getting ready to head in for a shift and is silently enjoying his breakfast as I barrel down the stairs.

"Four," I answer, puttering around the kitchen to make sure I grab everything I would need for today. I'm simultaneously opening the refrigerator door and pressing the button on my Keurig for my own morning cup of coffee to wake me up to start the day.

He nods before taking another sip. "Sounds good."

I'm not required to share my daily schedule with Charlie and Sue, but it's become something we do, and like everything else I do with them, I love it. It makes me feel like I belong; it's like I'm finally part of a family.

I've let go of the fact that it took twenty-five years for that to happen. I had never celebrated my birthday before; it was always just another day on the calendar to remind me I had survived yet another year of living with Renee. But last week, Charlie and Sue had brought home a cake for me, and I was surprised at how much I had unknowingly always wanted that. A cake. Candles. A silly song being sung in my honor.

I smile as I grab my coffee to go and my lunchbox, swinging the strap onto my arm as I head out the door. I tuck my birthday memory away for later, one of the things I like to think about when I struggle to remember who I am now and that I'm worthy of everything I've overcome.

"Spaghetti Squash Bolognese good for dinner tonight?" Sue calls as I'm about to leave. I nod and turn to wave back to them both.

"Perfect!" I shout over my shoulder. "Bye!"

The door closes softly behind me as I reach into my pocket and grab my phone.

7:30. Right on time.

I don't have to be at work at the library until eight, but like every morning with decent weather, I prefer to walk than have anyone drive me. It's not a far walk, and it still gives me the time I need in the morning to mentally prepare for the day ahead.

As much as I had loved the routine I had established when I had first arrived with Charlie and Sue, I like this one much better. I still walk, I still see my therapist twice a week, I still love to cook meals with Sue and eat them together, just the three of us.

It's been several months since I added a job into my routine and working at the library has made me so much happier than one would think a job at a library could bring.

It's quiet, something I prefer more than anything if I'm outside of Charlie and Sue's house. I work with understanding and respectful people, and the guests that come in are always friendly. My schedule is consistent, and I can always pick up hours if there is a need. There rarely ever is, but knowing there is an option for me to make and save more money is good enough for me.

It doesn't pay very much, but I'm used to getting by with little, and what I do bring home in my monthly check, I put most of it away. I can't live with Charlie and Sue forever, and when I'm ready to live on my own, I want to make sure I have what I need, not only to survive, but live.

I know now I'm ready to live. The demons from my past are still there, lurking in the shadows, and every now and then they surface for air. But thanks to Elizabeth and our sessions, I have the tools to work through them.

Even though this mid-September morning is full of clouds, I'm enjoying myself on my walk. I have my coffee in a warm travel mug, and I sip it gingerly as I walk through town. If people find it strange, they never say anything about it, and even then, their opinions wouldn't make me change anything.

For the first time in my life, I'm truly and genuinely happy. Some days are dark, and I retreat into myself for a moment or two of pity, but I always manage to climb back to the top.

I have too much life to live to waste thinking of everything that had been robbed from me.

Thinking of my future is what helps me pass the hours as I line the shelves of the library with books.

I love working here. I felt like I belonged here as soon as I had walked in that day in the spring, like the rows of books empty of people were calling my name and begging me to stay. I roam the shelves at my leisure, getting the job done but at my own pace, as long as my boss doesn't mind.

I put the books back where they belong, think of my life now and what I want it to be, and funny enough, I'm never alone when I'm thinking of my future.

He's always there with me. The man, Edward, from my dreams.

And the happiness I feel when we're together is otherworldly.

It's part of the reason I wake up each morning with a smile instead of a scowl. I think back on our time together in my dreams, shaking my head at the authenticity of each of them.

I wake up each morning, the dreams so real I often think I'm dreaming of buried memories, of times that happened in some other time or place or something. I feel everything in them; I recognize each place we go as if I've been there personally.

The rows of books whisper for me to stay. It's a feeling I get as I walk up and down each aisle, running down my body in chills that make me shudder as flashes of us almost blind me where I stand.

It's been like this ever since my first dream.

And I've waited.

Just like he tells me to.

Unfortunately, waiting for Edward also opens the door for my darkness to consume me, no matter how much I try to fight it.

Misery finds me some nights while I'm sleeping. It holds me hostage, screaming for a reprieve from its monstrous clutches.

Always to no avail.

Most nights after he visits me, I wake up overjoyed. Fulfilled. Whole.

But mornings like these, when I'm awoken from my dreams battered and bruised, make me question if the happiness he makes me feel is worth the sorrow I'm surrounded in when my dreams turn dark and full of shadows.

They don't happen often, but it takes me days to pull myself out of the trenches when they do.

The visits have been happening for months now since they visited me. Edward Cullen and his brother Emmett. I don't understand the purpose of them - of anything, really - the dreams, the visits, Emmett.

Edward.

But I know I need them all. They're all here to teach me one of life's lessons that no one ever bothered to teach me while growing up. The heartache, the pain, the happiness, the love.

His love.

Because I know there is nothing like being loved by Edward Cullen.

I can feel it in my soul now that I feel worthy enough to have one. I can feel it in his ghost-like touch, the way his fingers wisp across my skin.

I hear it in his words, the way they hold promises of things I've never had. Love has never found its way to me in life, and I've never had enough trust in anyone to go out in search of it. But in my dreams, when Edward talks of finding me again, of spending our lives together, I believe every word he says.

… Because I make those same promises to him, as well.

I promise to wait for him while he searches for me. I promise to trust he will do what he says - to find me. There is no doubt in my mind when he says he will tear the world apart to bring us together.

I believe him with everything I am.

That's why my heart shatters, caves in on itself on mornings like these when my dreams show me our heartbreak. Our story; the one that could have been.

… If he didn't leave me.

But the truth is he did leave me, and some mornings I can't forget that. I can't forgive him.

He took all meaning from my life and left Miss Misery in its place. That's who I become when I remember his goodbye.

And today, I feel it everywhere, my body aching with a loss I can only explain as pure torture.

Missing him doesn't come close to describing the hole in my chest on these mornings when I feel his absence with every breath I take.

How's your heart after breaking mine? I whisper into my pillow, my tears soaking the clean pillowcases I know Sue loves setting for me.

And always, whenever my darkness becomes dangerously close to the life Mary had lived, a calm, a peacefulness white and bright like soft snow, washes over me.

And I settle.

And I see the other Cullen brother with a slow nod and a trusting, tiny smile on his knowing face.

Emmett Cullen.

Maybe my answer lies with him.

My fingers can't pull up a Google search fast enough.

And what I see completely shatters whatever hope I have left.

—-m—-

"Same as yesterday? Four?" Charlie asks the next morning in the kitchen as I'm getting ready for work.

I nod as I prepare my coffee to take with me. "Yeah."

He doesn't push for more. I'm silent as I gather my things and head for the door after I say goodbye. My hand is almost on the doorknob when I feel a soft hand on my shoulder, stopping me before I leave.

"You forgot your lunch." Sue smiles and hands me my lunchbox. I try to send her one back, but it's weak and transparently fake.

"Thanks."

My walk this morning holds no happiness. Each step I take is a solitary sound against the pavement, reminding me how stupid I was to get my hopes up.

He's dead.

Emmett Cullen is dead, and he brought the answers I need with him.

Edward talks in whispers and secrets when we're together in my dreams, but Emmett has been the one subtly pointing me in the direction I need to follow. He's always wordless, even when interacting with Edward, but I can tell just by his presence, the omnipotence flowing from him like the rays of the sun, that he holds the answers I need to explain all of this.

Except now I'm lost again.

Now I see him similar to how I see Edward: Mysterious. Unobtainable as I do what he says and wait for him. An enigma.

I had been so distraught this morning over the news of Emmett's passing I hadn't even brought myself to look up anything about Edward on Google. If I was this upset about Emmett, I know I wouldn't be able to handle anything involving Edward.

I need several pep talks in order for me to be able to accept whatever it is I'll find when I eventually type his name into the search bar.

I close my eyes, deeply inhaling and exhaling as Elizabeth taught me when the emotion becomes too hard to bear. I try to remember the dreams that make me smile, the ones that make me feel whole and part of something bigger and stronger than myself. I try to remember the way his smile makes his eyes crinkle in the corners, his laugh squeezing my heart into a thousand happy little pieces.

The more I work in silence with my thoughts as the day goes on, the harder it becomes to ignore what I really want to do.

Have to do.

The moment my shift is over, and I've clocked out for the day, I head over to one of the computers. If answers are what I'm looking for, either from Emmett Cullen or someone else, then I have to find out for myself. Even if they're not the answers I want; I'm going to have to accept what I find whether I want to or not.

Would I be okay if I find a similar fate had happened to Edward? Would I be able to have Edward in my life only through our dreams at night?

I only read the date of Emmett's birth and death from the obituary that had popped up when I had searched him through Google.

It was enough to crush whatever hopes I had, so I stopped looking.

But here I am now, my fingers hovering over the keyboard because I somehow already know I'll never be the same again after this moment.

With a deep breath, I change my mind one last time and type Emmett's name instead of Edward's in the search bar again. Instead of going to the same obituary I had seen earlier, I click on a public Facebook page.

It had apparently been Emmett's before he died, and his family had turned it into a page of remembrance for his friends and family. I read each comment left in his memory, every one of them full of happy times and hopes of him healing the way he deserved to while on Earth. Pictures are shared and posted throughout the page, showing Emmett laughing and growing through the ages.

Just by looking at the pictures and reading the words of love on his page, I feel like I know him. Closing my eyes, I can feel his warmth and positivity through my bones.

When I open them again, I'm not prepared for the next thing I see.

Because one look at the face staring back at me is all it takes before I'm snapped into another dimension.

It's a place I recognize from my dreams with Edward, even though the images are flying past me too fast to study each one.

But I see them all and know them all. Remember them all.

Willow Creek. My apartment. Jess and Mike. My loving parents. My incredible boyfriend.

Edward.

These aren't just random things I think about in my dreams. They're real. They're memories.

They happened.

And just when I'm trying to figure out how this all comes together, I feel that calming peace whenever Emmett is present.

And sure enough, I close my eyes and he shows me the answers I've been searching for ever since I woke up in that hospital bed.

Emmett shows me the first time he and I met in my apartment in Willow Creek. I watch as the scene plays in front of me like a movie, the two of us trying to come to an understanding as we watch Emmett explain why Edward had left and what he and I had done to create our perfect world.

"He's gone," the man replies to my pleading. "And the Edward you know isn't real. You and Mase - " he pauses. "You and Edward created this world to escape the world you actually belong in."

As if I'm floating above myself, I see myself in the hospital bed, Charlie sitting by my side as the weeks dragged on. While I was sleeping, I was with Edward in the place we created to escape to. And Emmett was our way out, and ultimately, our way back to each other.

Edward was asleep like I was. Now, Edward is alive, and like me, is fumbling to understand how dreams and memories that shouldn't make sense, do—how things that can't possibly happen have done exactly that.

Happened.

Emmett shows me another moment from that night.

"Look through the window," he says, ignoring both of my questions. He points through the window. "You can see for yourself."

I take a deep breath before I look, as if I'm Ebenezer Scrooge looking through the window with the Ghost of Christmas Past. What I see further cements the truth I'm slowly starting to understand.

I'm looking at myself in a hospital bed. I see that cop who always followed me around town— Charlie Swan. I see and hear the beeps of the machines around me. I see the way he holds my hand and talks to me like I'm there to hear the words he says.

I look over at the man, asking him the question I already know the answer to. I may know the answer, but I'm not ready to say it out loud just yet. I hope hearing it from him will help soften the blow.

"Is that -"

"You? Yes." He smiles, apparently glad I remember and have made the connections. "Do you remember yet?"

"Yes," I whisper back, and I can feel myself grow numb as the walls in my heart slowly build up again like they had in my real world. "I remember."

And, God, do I remember.

I remember everything.

My tears fall as expectantly as I draw breath in my chair at the library. Even though I'm sitting in front of the computer, I'm a million miles away.

The picture is still up on my screen, the picture that brought everything back. Someone else posted it with the caption Emmett and Masen on the bottom, but I know it's him, even if the name isn't what I was looking for. Through my tears, I look at the two brothers staring back at me.

Emmett has his arm around Edward's shoulders, his smile wide on his face as the picture was snapped. Edward, looking down from the camera as if always annoyed by Emmett's antics, tries not to let his happiness show, but it's there. There's a small, almost hidden smile on his face as he looks away from the camera. It reminds me of myself - how I was always searching for some type of light in whatever darkness I was lost inside.

Maybe that was how we found each other. Maybe we both were fighting battles only we could understand, and our dark souls, secretly craving the light, created this new place for us to forget it all and leave it behind.

Maybe this is why I didn't die on that cliff that night like I wanted to.

Maybe my muse was in the shadows as well, and we needed each other in order to find our way out.

—-m—-

Later that night, after I've had a few hours to sort through all of this new information, I find Charlie outside on the back deck. He has a beer in his hand and is silent as he overlooks the greens at the edge of the yard.

I don't want to disturb him, as he seems preoccupied and lost in his thoughts, so I go to disappear back into my bedroom when he catches sight of me.

"Come on out, Bella." He pats the chair next to him at the table. "It's a little wet but not too bad."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

I take my seat next to him, the nights growing cool as the threat of fall looms upon us. It's still soothing as I wrap myself deeper into my hoodie.

The stars are out, bright and shining as they look down on me, and I close my eyes and wonder if Edward is out there doing the same thing.

"Can I tell you something?" I blurt before I can stop myself. Suddenly I'm tired of carrying this alone. And if I can't trust Charlie with what I've discovered, who can I trust?

He nods and takes another swig of his beer.

"Always."

"It's a little crazy," I warn.

He rolls his eyes and looks over at me. "Isn't it always like that with you?" He laughs and shakes his head. "Go on."

I inhale deeply, aware that once I start, there's no stopping. No going back.

I exhale and go for it anyway. "Did the doctors ever tell you why I was in my coma for as long as I was? I mean, I know I put myself through hell but nothing that would make me stay asleep for over a month."

"Not really," Charlie responds after thinking for a moment. "Just said your body must have needed the rest."

"They were probably right, I guess." I agree. I swallow before continuing. "Except…"

"Except what?"

I have nothing else to say except for everything I've kept to myself. I tell him about Edward, my dreams, Emmett. I tell him my theories of why we connected. I tell him about Willow Creek, about my job at the library there, and how I felt the library here in Forks practically calling my name.

"This is Kevin Costner, 'If you build it, they will come' type of shit," Charlie laughs when I'm finally finished.

"I know it's hard to believe." I shake my head with a sigh, leaning my head back against my chair. "It's the cliche; everything happens for a reason bullshit. I know it's completely out there— insane when I actually hear my own words."

"It is something I've never heard before; I'll give you that." He replies, playing with the label on his beer bottle.

I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe it's just some type of hope I'm holding on to; I don't know."

"Hope," Charlie chuckles to himself. "It's a funny thing, hope."

"Why is that?"

He hesitates and then sighs with the crickets of the night. "I've held onto hope for so long, even when it didn't look like any hope was left."

"It's new to me," I admit. I never had a reason to hope for anything before; I was smart enough to never expect that from Renee.

"I never gave up hope. For you, for Sue and me to become parents." He clears his throat. "Sue's pregnant."

"Oh, Charlie." I'm out of my chair in a flash, wrapping my arms around his neck as our tears mix.

When he pulls away, holding me by my shoulders to look me in the eyes, I've seen what's been there all along, even from when I was a punk-ass kid giving him a hard time.

He pulls me in again, his words lost in my hair as we hold each other outside on the deck. "I'll be the last one to tell you to give up whatever hope you're holding on to, Bella."

—-m—-

"Coffee? That's what you want right now?" Edward asks as our waiter brings us our first round of drinks. Edward emerges from the bathroom, amused at what I've ordered for myself. He helps the waiter make room for the beer I've ordered for him.

"Coffee on the beach is amazing," I argue as I set the cup down and begin to fix it to my liking.

I watch as he contemplates my rationale. "Yeah, it is. But it's Happy Hour on Friday Night. Who gets a coffee when there are shots to be had?"

Edward reaches for his beer, savoring the taste with his eyes closed.

"I'll get there," I laugh at his persuasion. "But first? Coffee."

"Enjoy it," he answers with a shake of his head.

"Oh, I plan on it."

I do exactly that. Enjoy it. But I also enjoy the rest of our evening as well. Jess and Mike arrive not too long after my coffee is finished, the four of us enjoying our view from our table on the outside deck of Demetri's overlooking the ocean.

As always, the weather here in Willow Creek is something plucked from a sailor's dream. Calm winds, warm sun dipping beneath the horizon. I'm surrounded by love and laughter, evident in the way Edward's arm is casually draped around my shoulders as we talk and joke with our friends. He continues talking, never missing a beat as his fingertips circle gently against the skin on my arm.

I close my eyes, and just like he savored the taste of his Friday night beer, I do the same at his touch.

Coffee on the beach is nothing compared to this man.

"Wait for him," I hear Emmett's voice say, ethereal from the place he now belongs. "He's on his way to you."

I'll do exactly that.

Wait.

… Because I can feel him closer to me each passing minute.

Expect to see me in your inbox a lot this week (even more than you already do with my daily updates for Found Missing). I know I mentioned in my last update there was a reason for me marking this complete by the end of the month. I apologize if it made some of you go back and look to see if you missed any hidden July 31st meanings in the story (LOL - I REALLY AM SORRY) but it's actually something involving me as a writer. I'll share with you all then :)

Next up we'll check in on Edward and his progress on finding Bella.

Chapter 30 will be when we mark this journey complete!