A/N for 2019-12-15: As always, many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12, who not only edits with the sharpest of eyes, but who also knows this story better than I do at times.
I hope you all enjoy this latest dose of angst.
~ Erin
It was Leah who extended the startling invitation to Edward to attend her mother's memorial. Though she had used more colourful terms in her explanation, Leah had told Bella that she'd given Sam an ultimatum: either Edward was allowed to come with Bella, or she and Seth would hold the funeral off the reservation. This was a huge weight off of Bella's shoulders, as she knew it was too risky not to have Cullen protection, but she'd had no idea how to justify her family's absence from the event to Charlie. She still wasn't sure why Leah was being so accommodating, but whatever her reasons, Bella was grateful.
It was another relief when Edward and Carlisle returned physically unscathed from their meeting with Sam and the pack. While Edward assured her Sam had only wanted to vent his growing anger at the situation that had been thrust upon him and the tribe, Bella suspected Edward's understatement sat closer to a lie than the truth.
These tiny and temporary reliefs didn't obscure the other conflicted feelings Bella was experiencing—ones that she couldn't share with anyone else, especially her husband-to-be.
Sue was dead because Bella wasn't. Victoria had made it very clear that she wanted Bella's life in payment for James', and it was getting harder and harder to justify her own continued existence as she watched other lives be extinguished in the most horrific of deathly lotteries.
She had forced herself not to think of it after those few days following Grant's abduction, but now the morbid speculations returned, and she looked around at the people she knew, even those with whom she had only the slightest connections. She hadn't phoned Renee and Phil yet, and she wouldn't. They weren't close, and there was no reason to make anyone think they were. She was also grateful she had chosen to spend the summer in Forks, as she had no regular contact with anyone else but the Cullens and Charlie for the time being. Still, Sue's fate had made it clear that Charlie was in just as much danger, if not more.
She kept the children close, hovering when they spent time with the other Cullens, redirecting requests for outings and shopping trips. There was safety in numbers, she reasoned, and no need to tempt fate.
Because of Sue's death, the Cullens decided to make their full presence official to the people of Forks. Artfully aged with makeup and hair colouring, Carlisle and Esme had gone to visit Charlie with Bella and Edward. Her father, so deep in the depths of his grief, had blandly accepted the aging their appearance presented, barely interacting with them beyond what social necessity required.
Now the morning of the memorial was upon them, and Bella found herself wrestling with a far more common problem: getting Josh dressed. He had refused all suggested outfits so far, clinging to his swimming trunks and swim shirt instead.
"No clothes!" he shrieked again, when Edward pulled out a few other options after trying to explain that swimsuits weren't appropriate for a memorial.
"Yucky!" Josh concluded, looking darkly at the shirt and pants on the bed.
"It's a very special occasion," Bella tried again. "We're going to go say goodbye to Grandma Sue."
Then Edward paused, cocking his head to the side and reaching out to touch Josh's swim shirt, held protectively to the little boy's chest. "This one?" he asked.
Josh nodded.
"And you think she wants to see you in this again?"
Josh nodded more enthusiastically.
Bella lifted her eyebrows, awaiting explanation.
"This is the shirt Josh wore the last time he saw Grandma Sue."
Bella blinked, summoning the memory.
"It makes sense to Josh that he wear it," Edward explained.
"Okay," Bella said, hoping her son was young enough to be excused his eccentric choice of clothing.
Then Josh pulled out his goggles from the bottom dresser drawer, donning these too.
Bella let out a very long breath, but Edward laughed. "Good choice," he praised Josh. He trailed his fingers through her son's hair, then reached over to gently stroke her back. "It's alright," he said softly. "I don't think people will mind. They'll more likely all be staring at me."
Bella nodded wearily in acknowledgement, then tried to smile a little.
He was right. They probably would
The memorial was scheduled to be held in the community hall, a modest clapboard building that sat among the few scattered businesses of the reserve. The structure was old enough that it could have been a church at one time, or perhaps a one-room school, even a dance hall. The tall, double-hung windows that ran its length stood open in the summer heat; the notes being played on a poorly-tuned piano wafted through them.
Bella paused a short ways away from the doors, rubbing at the side of her abdomen.
"Are you alright?" Edward asked. He had Josh on his left arm, her hand on his right. Mer held Bella's other hand, waiting patiently. Both children seemed to have picked up on the mood of the day and she was grateful for the calm.
She shook her head. "Just round ligaments." She wished it was only that. She was more worried about the reception waiting for them in the hall. While she knew they weren't in physical danger—or at least, she told herself that—she wasn't looking forward to the stares they would garner.
Or the whispers.
Most people here still thought she was psychotic. That story had been spread well enough on its own merits. She was the sheriff's crazy daughter after all.
The other half would be whispering about the vampire whose hand she was holding.
Being the centre of such attention made her feel as if her age, or her resilience, had been reduced by a good ten years. All she really wanted was to anonymously grieve, and then help her father through this and all the ugliness she knew came afterwards.
It was the sight of Charlie that made her shrug off the self-consciousness. He was standing at the front of the hall beside Seth, the edges of his face wilting with emotional weariness.
Bella said nothing as she leaned in to hug him, letting her silence wrap him up as much as her arms. When she pulled away, there was gratitude in his eyes, and a gentle nod for Edward. Meredith followed her mother's example, giving Charlie a solemn embrace.
Josh set his own cues, announcing, "Swimshirt," to Charlie, then looking around and asking, "Grandma Sue?"
"She's not here, sweetie," Bella said, hoping another, more detailed explanation was not required. They'd already spoken with the children. Edward had done so at length with Josh again that morning.
As they took their seats, Seth, his family, and Leah flanked Charlie on the aisle side, while Bella, Edward and her children took the other. She thought about this symbolic separation and the very thin buffer that existed between the Quileutes and the world she now inhabited.
There were speeches from the many members of Sue's extended family, several friends, and then, to Bella's great surprise, Charlie.
He cleared his throat at the front of the room, one hand uncertainly on the lectern, his other waving away the offered microphone. He took in the scene, eyes roving over the crowd. A surprising smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth. "I'm not used to addressing such an orderly and well-dressed crowd. My usual audience is a group of people with dubious intentions, more booze, and poorer choices of venue." The crowd chuckled. "Sue woulda had a good laugh over me doing this." There was a quietness now, the silence broken with small cry from little Marcella, who Camille shushed gently. Charlie looked down, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "I don't think it's any secret that Sue and I were separated when she died, so I won't make it one now. I asked her to leave, and she did."
Bella tightened her grip on Edward's hand as Charlie continued.
"It was a stupid decision on my part, and I'd really like to think that I would've seen sense before too long and asked for her forgiveness." There was the smallest of trembles in his voice. "So Sue, honey, if you're hearing this, I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me for being an idiot." He paused, taking careful breaths in, and then went on. "Loving someone with your whole heart is not easy, and Sue was the kind of person who made it look that way. I think I lost sight of that over the years. I know a lot of you have talked about Sue's capacity to love and care—" he gestured to the room and to the people who'd spoken. "The rest of us are lucky to have had her for the time we did. Hopefully, most of you were able to do what I wasn't, and part with her on good terms, knowing things were square between you. Obviously, I didn't. So, if there's someone you need to set things right with, just remember that now's the time. You might not have tomorrow." He nodded once, then again, turned, and walked stiffly back to his seat, where his form hunched down into the folding chair.
He accepted Bella's hand on his shoulder, but didn't meet her eyes, staring straight ahead. The room was full of quiet sniffles and blown noses.
When the service came to an end, Bella watched her father stand and shuffle downstairs along with everyone else, where volunteers had set out tables full of refreshments.
Edward was quick to press a glass of water into Bella's hand, along with a plate of food.
Mer and Josh had caught sight of the dessert table, and had already uttered several long, whiney, "Pleeeeeea-ses!" to their mother.
It was Edward who replied. "You can each have two things, but no more."
"Okay!" Meredith said. Josh nodded solemnly beside her.
Then Edward knelt down, looking them squarely in the eyes, and added in a serious tone. "But I will know if there are more. Understood?"
The siblings exchanged a sideways glance, acknowledging this truth. They had each tested Edward's capacity on this front at home.
"But you can have lots of the other food, okay? Just listen to your tummies."
There were more serious nods, and then less serious skipping away as they joined the swarm of children around a stack of brownies.
Bella leaned over to whisper in Edward's ear, "You have no idea how awesome that is."
He only smiled, brushing his lips by her temple in a soft kiss.
"Bella!" a woman's voice called.
She turned her head, catching sight of Emily, whose hand was clutched in Sam's as if she was pulling him along with her—but one glance at Sam's expression had Bella quickly revising her opinion. No, he was very clearly trying to keep Emily from coming closer. She watched her one-time-friend ease out of her husband's grip and approach. In the same moment, Edward murmured, "I'll just go keep an eye on Mer and Josh."
Emily's hug felt warm after Edward's touch.
"It's so good to see you," Emily said, releasing her, smiling a sad smile. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."
"Me too," Bella said.
Emily glanced at her midsection, "Congratulations, by the way."
"Yeah," Bella said, glancing down herself. It was still startling, in some ways, being pregnant with Matt's child. Seeing all these people from her past, she half-expected him to come sauntering out of the crowd too, or Jacob.
"I hear other congratulations are in order too," Emily's expression suddenly darkened, her gaze following Edward's movements on the other side of the room, where he was talking with Leah.
Bella cleared her throat in response, deciding this was warning enough for Emily to keep her prejudices to herself.
Emily, however, was undeterred.
"Just how the heck do you plan on making that work?" Her gaze still lingered on Edward, a small and disdainful curl wrinkling her lip.
"Just fine, thanks," Bella said. Her Quileute friends had always been direct—Jacob especially so, but sometimes she wished they would just politely ignore awkward truths for a bit.
"Yeah, sure. He's gonna stay young, while you age."
Bella tried to ignore the internal flinch, but it morphed into a snapped reply. "It seems to me you're in the same boat there, Em."
"Hardly. Sam's aged because he stopped shifting," Emily murmured quietly, then stiffened, turning herself fully towards Bella, her jaw hanging loose. Her voice rose in volume and incredulity. "You're not going to let him change you, are you?"
Bella had felt so close to Emily all those years ago, but the friendship had withered after her psychosis diagnosis. Many friendships had. Of course, the real reason for the disintegration of those relationships was apparent now. Bella didn't even know what to say to Emily at this moment, thrown as she was by both the question and its blunt assumptions. It was also surprisingly clear that Emily wasn't aware of what was going on, at least with Sam and the pack.
"Oh my God, he's going to change all of you, isn't he?" Emily whispered harshly when Bella failed to answer, the disgust practically dripping from each syllable..
Bella felt her face flame with the onslaught of frustration and betrayal brought by Emily's words. Her heart was beating so rapidly that it was practically in her throat, and she knew she wasn't the only person aware of it.
Edward's hand reappeared in her own. "Hello, Emily," he said politely.
Sam moved closer too, his towering presence looming over them all. He said nothing with his mouth, and everything with his eyes, which were narrowed in warning.
"Well?" Emily asked Bella, intent on an answer.
"It's hardly your business to ask," Bella whispered angrily, Edward's presence helping her to sort out her thoughts again. How dare Emily, herself mated to a volatile wolf, challenge Bella on her life choices or take offense at her choice of partner?
"It's entirely our business," Sam said.
They were four stiff pillars to a conversation whose topic stretched not just over the entire room but much of the peninsula as well, though this fact was unknown to most of the rest of the hall's inhabitants.
Bella still felt like she was on fire next to Edward's calm and literally cool presence. His hand squeezed hers as if in warning, but she ignored it.
The complete presumption of Sam and Emily made her want to punch one or both of them. Mindful of her recently-healed hand, Bella put her words to Sam instead. "Why don't we go clear the air outside?"
"No," Edward said, his fingers tightening again over hers, almost painfully so.
Bella whispered, knowing Sam and Edward would hear her well enough. "I doubt very much anyone will try to abduct or kill me with both of you so close by."
So intent on the people in front of her, Bella didn't hear Charlie and Camille's approach, or the quiet murmurs bubbling between them.
"Want to put your doctor hat on for a moment?" Charlie asked Edward. "Though it might mean letting go of Bella's hand." There was a small smirk on his face as he said it. The tone of the conversation he'd interrupted clearly hadn't reached him. "Camille's a bit worried about Marcella. I didn't think you'd mind having a look, instead of having her head to the ER on a Sunday night." Charlie looked more closely at Edward, and his features fell, catching the strain on his future son-in-law's face. "That's if—"
"Of course," Edward said, glancing at Bella before letting go of her hand, then giving Sam a dark look before turning to Camille and the baby.
"I'm just going to get some air," Bella mumbled, her angry eyes pointed sharply at Sam. When she turned, she didn't look back to see if he was following, knowing by the prickling on her neck that he was.
Bella walked carefully around the perimeter of the building to reach the front, where there were no windows through which their words might travel.
"I want you to stop interfering with my life, and Charlie's too. You deliberately destroyed his relationship with Sue, and you did your best to take an axe to mine—"
"I destroyed his life?" Sam spat back, laughing incredulously. "Can you hear yourself?"
"There was no reason to drive a wedge between Charlie and Sue and you know it!"
"You outed our secret, Bella, and the Cullens' too. And then you come dancing back into town with them again, attracting more of their kind, and that's no reason to keep Sue away from Charlie?"
She shook her head angrily. "You broke both their hearts out of spite and nothing else."
"I was trying to keep her safe."
"That's bullshit, and you know it!" She stabbed the air with her finger, watching his jaw tense.
"What's bullshit is you thinking you or they are welcome here again—after the mess they left with you got Jake killed, and now Sue—some nerve you have to say any of this is on me!"
"Sue would've been with Charlie if you hadn't split them up. She would have been safe."
"Sure. They could be dead together. Perfect."
This brought Bella up short. She hadn't even considered the possibility. Still, she knew he was wrong. The Cullens were watching Charlie. If Sue had stayed with Charlie . . .
Sam kept going. "She died because the Cullens didn't protect her—and I seriously doubt it wasn't deliberate. So don't act surprised when I doubt them on the other points of the treaty."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bella asked, ignoring his incredible accusation.
Sam lowered his voice. "You're with a vampire, Bella. What the hell do you think it's supposed to mean? He hasn't given up on you after all this time. Do you seriously think he's going to risk you dying as a human? And just so we're perfectly clear, if they bite a human, the treaty's over."
The Cullens had never told her this, but it didn't surprise her that it was part of the treaty.
Sam stepped closer, leaning in so near that she could smell his breath. Her body curled away defensively. "I hope he bites you, Bella. I can't wait for a reason to end them, and any of their kind that come my way." His words were nearly hissed, his scowl sincere. She took an instinctive step back.
"Enough," Edward said, suddenly in front of Bella.
Sam's shape shimmered in the day's dull light as he stood his ground.
"I am completely under control," Edward said, his voice low and even. "Are you?"
Sam stared hard at him for what seemed like a full minute before he suddenly pivoted and walked away, his back taut and hands clenched tightly as he fought for control.
Edward whirled to face Bella. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" His eyes were wide, nose flaring.
Angry. He was angry. With her.
"I—"
"Putting yourself in the hands of a werewolf, away from where I can reach you, and then deliberately provoking him—do you not understand the danger here?" He glowered at her.
Her anger at Sam was waning, just enough that she could feel the uneasy prickling of truth in what Edward was saying. She shoved the discomfort away. "Sam can hate vampires all he wants, Edward, but he doesn't get to throw it around my life—our life, hurting the people I love—"
Edward's voice rose, and now his posture imitated Sam's. "He will do whatever he wants, because he sees you and us as a problem requiring solving. Venting your frustrations only weakens his incentive to honour our very strained treaty. What were you thinking?"
Bella stepped back, almost flinching as Edward's hand shot out to steady her elbow.
"Are you feeling dizzy?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"No," she lied, shaking her head, wobbling when the dislocating wave hit her. Her feet became suddenly uncertain, and she moved her right foot sideways, trying to find a way to keep herself upright without being obvious about it.
Edward's huffed-out breath was full of frustration. "You are so stubborn."
You're one to talk, she thought, as his other hand came to her waist.
"Can you walk?"
She didn't risk shaking her head again. "Not yet. Give me a minute."
He didn't, picking her up and carrying her towards one of the benches that faced the trees.
"Put your head down," Edward instructed, his syllables still clipped and angry.
"I know," she mumbled, doing just that.
She waited for the sensation to pass, counting breaths, trying to calm herself, knowing it would help with the dizziness.
As her equilibrium returned, her unease grew.
Edward remained beside her, but outside his usual arm's reach. When she dared to glance sideways, she could only see his hands, which were rigidly gripping the bench slats.
Reluctantly, she acknowledged that Edward had every right to be angry. He and his family had risked a great deal to keep her safe, and she'd flirted with disaster, giving Sam a piece of her mind.
The realization was sobering and guilt inducing.
What had she been thinking?
She hadn't. That was the short answer.
But Sam—God, Sam. The mere thought of him was a flame to the long-accumulated fuel of her rage—
"He had your neck in his hands," Edward said softly, the quaver in his voice interrupting the fire in her thoughts. "In his mind but . . . I wasn't sure if it was real for a moment. He was thinking about how easy it would be." His fingertip brushed lightly along her throat. "It would be so easy for him to solve his problems that way."
Bella sat up, the dizziness unimportant, watching the world spin, Edward with it. Forcing her eyes to stick to his frozen form, she tried to breathe away the swirling confusion in her brain. "You thought—"
"I wasn't sure. I'd rather not be presented with such possibilities."
"Oh Edward . . . I'm sorry." She really was. She'd been completely impulsive. Reckless.
The spinning didn't stop, and she put her head down again, closing her eyes, rebuking her body and her stupidity.
"I think it might be time to leave," Edward said quietly. His voice was stiff.
"Okay," Bella mumbled into her lap.
"If I help you to the car, will you stay there while I get Mer and Josh?"
"Yes," she said, feeling very, very small. She'd hurt him.
She'd damaged them.
She kept her head down in the car too, offering the barest of greetings to Josh and Meredith when they arrived.
"I told your Dad you'd call him later," Edward said.
From his tone alone, she knew he was still upset, and she didn't blame him.
She'd been stupid. Incredibly stupid.
"I'm sorry," she tried again.
"It's fine," he said. There was no touch with it. It wasn't fine. Not at all.
By the time they reached the house, Bella had recovered enough to walk inside and sit down in the kitchen, picking up and nibbling on an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen. The last thing she wanted to do was eat but having low blood sugar was not a complication she needed right now. Emmett and Rosalie had talked earlier with Mer and Josh about making a fort outside in the garden, and they all disappeared in fairly short order.
Edward's tone was still curt as he spoke from the doorway. "I'm going to hunt. I'll be back later."
She nodded, eyebrows knitted together, emotions similarly knotted inside. He never left without first making some sort of contact—a kiss, a hug, a tender touch.
When she blinked, he was gone.
She had a few moments alone, fighting against her tears, forcing herself to keep eating, knowing things would be worse if she didn't.
When Jasper appeared in the chair beside her, she didn't start. She was more accustomed to the Cullens' abrupt arrivals and departures. While they hid such startling movements from the children, they had dispensed with such pretence with Bella.
"I deserved it," she said, not doubting that the rest of the family knew what had happened and Edward's subsequent reaction.
Jasper lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment. "Maybe . . . maybe not."
Bella laughed a little. "You are a fine, polite Southern gentleman, Jasper, but I think your kindness might be misplaced here."
"Oh, don't give my manners so much credit," he said, smiling until his lips fell into a more sombre line. "It is a remarkable strain for our kind to worry for our mates. Edward is rather alone in that experience, having a human one, and while I may not always excuse his behaviour because of it, I do understand the emotional cost."
This explanation only confused Bella.
"You remember when Edward saved you from that car crash when you first arrived in Forks?"
"Yes." Bella frowned, still not grasping his meaning.
"It sparked some considerable . . . upset, in our family. Rosalie and I both felt the possible revelation of our kind required a more . . . permanent solution."
Bella's breath caught in her throat.
"That is in the past, Bella," Jasper reassured her. "But it was only one of many times when Edward has had to deal with your mortal imperilment. I doubt it will be the last. It wears on him."
Bella thought, idly, that Jasper didn't need his gifts to alter people's emotions—his words were weapon enough.
"Carlisle argued that if we were going to do anything to protect our family, it should be because our family was worth protecting. Killing an innocent hardly seemed to make us that. We agreed, not because we thought you would keep our secret, but because it was the right thing to do. It was a sacrifice of our own security for the greater good."
"I didn't keep your secret, Jasper." There was still shame in this, even now, even after they'd repeatedly assured her of their forgiveness. That she'd been so unwise this afternoon made it all fresh again.
"No, but that wasn't my point."
Bella decided Jasper had a very roundabout, and painful way of getting to his points—not that she didn't deserve the rebuke. When he spoke his next words, she considered that perhaps it wasn't so roundabout.
"Being part of our family requires sacrifice, Bella. Sometimes, it might be small, but sometimes it's greater."
She hadn't forgotten the sacrifice they'd had to make with the Volturi. The weight of that hung silently over the entire family.
"Our feelings—emotions—are often the thing we have to give up." He lifted an eyebrow. "Because giving sway to such things often leads to rash choices."
Like angrily confronting the leader of a werewolf pack with whom your vampire family has an uneasy truce.
"Being part of our family will require many sacrifices of you, Bella, and of your children too. But there are many things to be gained, your safety and peace of mind being paramount."
She rubbed her face with her hands.
"It's not my intention to make you feel guilty."
"I know," Bella said. It would be petty on his part, and Jasper was anything but. "How do you do it?" she blurted out. "Stay so calm, knowing what you're going to have to do?"
"Serve the Volturi, you mean?" he asked.
She nodded.
If he was human, he would've shrugged, his tone was so casual. "In an immortal life, a few decades or centuries are relatively small, so long as your mate is with you."
"But—"
He looked directly at her. "It will be a price, Bella, but one I'm willing to pay for the safety of my family." He turned to let his gaze sweep the front of the property, where Emmett and Rosalie were playing with Josh and Mer. "I would not have your human lives touched by the Volturi. Nor Edward's happiness. It's worth it." He turned back to her, his impassive face unreadable.
The guilt dissolved, morphing into a resolute determination. She wasn't quite sure if it was Jasper, or herself, or a bit of them both together. She decided it didn't matter, and that if he'd helped her, accepting it graciously was thanks enough.
She nodded, and Jasper stood, mimicking the action before turning and disappearing from the room.
When Edward returned several hours later, he paused at the entranceway to their room where Bella was sitting on the bed, sorting through laundry. She normally didn't get a chance to deal with such household tasks anymore, but she had a feeling it had been left so she could—or at least so she could distract herself with it.
"Hi," she tried, eyeing him uncertainly. He'd never been angry with her like this before, or at least hadn't shown it. The steps to this dance were unknown.
"I love you," he said, suddenly beside her and taking her hand in his.
His touch made the ache inside melt. The relief was physical. "I'm so sorry—"
"I know." His arms wound around her waist, face in her hair. "I just . . . can't lose you."
"No plans on making that happen." she murmured, returning his embrace and molding herself against him as closely as she could. It was as if she could breathe again.
He groaned. "I don't doubt your intention, but your intentions aren't what worry me."
"I know," she mumbled, face pressed to his chest.
Releasing her, Edward moved so they were face to face, nudging a pile of folded shirts aside. "I think it might be best if we leave town sooner rather than later, all things considered. At least in the next week or so, and not the end of the month, as we'd planned."
Bella took in a breath and released it. She'd wanted to stay for Charlie, but after her performance today, having more space between her and Sam could only be a good thing.
"I know you don't want to leave your father right now, but I can assure you he wants nothing more than to throw himself into work and pretend this hasn't happened."
She closed her eyes. Of all the ways to deal with grief, this was one of the worst, but it was his choice to make. He would grieve in time, but to leave him—
"It's easy enough to get him to come visit. There's a direct flight out of Port Angeles," Edward said.
There was. She nodded, but she didn't want to abandon him, not now. She doubted he would visit, so their leaving would be a separation.
"Alice and Jasper will stay to watch over him."
She frowned in confusion; She'd expected Rose and Emmett. "Why?"
Edward paused before speaking. "They'll need to leave soon. It's . . . easier for them to have the time alone, before they have to do that."
She wanted to ask how soon, 'soon' was. She didn't. It could be years, or days, or decades. It meant the same thing: their absence, and the aching truth that she was the root of it. Instead, she put her arms around Edward again, as if holding onto him could hold together the fractures in their lives that were still mending and somehow ward off the others still to come.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.