It was late in the evening when Carlisle swept into my room again, looking far more dishevelled than he had when he left. His blonde hair was falling into his face and his clothes no longer sat on his frame as perfectly as they once had. I frowned at him sympathetically.

"Tough day down there?" I asked softly, tilting my head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Carlisle stopped and gazed at me. I wondered what he was seeing when he looked at me: if he could pick his or Dad's features out, if he was trying to imagine what Maman looked like, or if he was simply trying to connect me as his granddaughter as much as I was with him.

His smile didn't reach his eyes when he responded, "no, thank for you for the offer, Emmelyn. Car crash over on the 101, school bus."

I cringed just thinking about it and could hardly imagine the day Carlisle must have had. Dad stirred next to me and I broke eye contact with Carlisle to look at him. He had succumbed to sleep only half an hour ago and now was settled uncomfortably in the chair on my bedside. I wanted to wake him up and complain that he'd injure his back and neck is he slept like that but I didn't need Carlisle to tell me that he had stayed awake for the last 24 hours, hovering over me with worried and wild eyes.

Carlisle smiled over fondly before walking round the bed and gently shaking Dad's shoulder. Dad awoke easily, fear instantly coating his features. His eyes shot to mine immediately and I made sure to smile brightly. He sighed, relaxing back in the chair.

"Go back to the Inn, son," Carlisle spoke, and I noticed his accent was currently as English as my own. I pressed my lips together in amusement. Dad, however, frowned up at him. "Get some food, take a nap. You need it."

Dad looked round at me, his gaze calculating, "go on, Daddy. I'm fine! Carlisle will be here."

He sighed heavily, looking between us but must have known that he was never going to win. He lifted himself from the chair and leant over to kiss my forehead.

"I'll be back soon," he promised me in a low tone.

"Don't rush," I implored him, grasping the wrist of the hand he'd laid on my cheek.

"I'll be back soon," his jaw clenched and he repeated his worlds firmly, eyes locked with mine, and I knew that this time I would not win. I quirked a smile at him and he kissed my forehead again.

Carlisle and I watched him leave the room in silence. I felt his absence keenly the second he stepped through the door and was out of sight. It settled in my heart like a weight, dragging me down, and I bit my lip, glancing over at Carlisle. I wanted Dad to leave and take care of himself but I didn't want to be alone in the hospital. It seemed my emotions didn't count Carlisle just yet.

He seemed to note my sudden anxiety and moved towards me slowly, "shall we take a walk?"

I nodded immediately. I was tired of being sitting in bed and at least walking around would give me an excuse not to make eye contact with him. He helped me to my feet and handed me a dressing gown. The hospital seemed quiet as we strolled slowly through the corridors. Carlisle spoke of his work and Esme to break the silence and in return I spoke of living in London still and what school and college had been like. I told him of my love for singing. Neither of us spoke of Dad or the fact that we all should have been dead a long time ago or that he should have been around 60 years old. As we neared my room, my heart tumbled. I had been pushing it back all day but it was hard to look at Carlisle and not think of Jasper and suddenly his rejection stung as clearly as it had yesterday.

Silence had fallen between me and Carlisle a couple of times during our walk and he had left me to my thoughts in those moments. However, it seemed he was not willing to let me wallow. I wrapped my arms around my body as the wave of rejection washed through me and Carlisle was instantly there as I squeezed tears away in anger. I was not a tearful person. Carlisle wrapped a tight arm around my shoulder and guided me back to my room.

"It's not fair, Carlisle," I complained tightly as I moved to sit on the bed and he shut the door behind us. "Jasper and I were so close… I just – I need to know why he's different: why I can't trust him? I need to know what happened to him when he didn't come home. I lied for him: what happened because of that is all my fault."

"Emma," Carlisle sighed my name heavily but it didn't escape my notice that this was the first time he had used the shortened version of my name. "When Jasper says he can't tell you, he's not being difficult. If we told you, and part of him desperately wants to, we would be putting you and your father in grave danger. Danger far worse than we could protect you from. We're just trying to keep you safe."

I sighed, sitting back on my bed. What could I say to that? Surely, it was wrong to keep pushing when someone is so adamant that you need protecting. Yet, what could possibly be so bad?

"I miss him," I whispered a while later. No response came and I drifted off to sleep.