The tip of Morgan's pen sunk deep into the white of her notebook paper, driving a black hole to the left of a math problem. She couldn't stop thinking all day. Her mind was like a rabid animal of wild thoughts, slowly driving her mad as she tried to follow her daily routine, the inner monologue of her brain at maximum volume since the night before.
Edward hadn't mentioned her trip to La Push. She knew he would hear what happened and, surely, give all the details to any member of the family who'd listen—but he hadn't looked at her twice last night. In fact, he was barely around her at all. Had he truly not heard? Or, did he hear her thoughts and keep them to himself? If so, why? It wasn't like he owed her the secrecy. Usually, whatever he heard from her thoughts found its way immediately to her parents.
And yet, nothing. It was equal parts alarming and confusing, and the idea that he could know and simply be waiting for the opportunity to rat her out to Carlisle and Esme—or worse, Rosalie—was utterly terrifying. Her limbs had vibrated all day with the hum of anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When the bell above the pet store door chimed, she startled in a jolt, sending the tip of her pen squirreling up the side of the page. Her eyes darted up from the counter and a breath caught in her throat. Jacob.
He walked into the store with a toothy smile and Morgan swallowed, sitting upright on the stool she perched before returning the gesture. "Back so soon?" she questioned in jest.
"I wish it was for cat food," Jacob leaned against the counter on his palms. "Went out to the garage this morning and found some kittens in the back. We waited for the mom to come back, but I think we need to prepare for the worst."
Morgan slid off the stool and closed her notebook, shoving it aside on the counter. "Wow, okay. How many you got?" she asked, as she dipped into the small storage room behind the counter.
"Counted six. Might be more—they were in a weird spot."
She snagged a plastic shopping bag from the storage, stuffed some syringes inside, and went to the cat section. Once she gathered a few containers of kitten formula, she rounded up bottles and blankets, before reaching for a litter pan. "Do you have any cat supplies?" Morgan asked, with a pause.
Jacob shook his head. "Just the food we got."
Morgan nodded and grabbed a litter scoop, as well as a plastic water and food bowl. "This should set you up for a while. If you don't end up needing it, you can just bring it back or give it to someone else in need," she explained. Finally, she returned to the counter with the overstuffed shopping bag. "Our shipment doesn't get in until tomorrow, so I'll set aside one of the crates for you."
"Geez. You do this for all the kittens in the area?" Jacob questioned, an eyebrow raising on his forehead in time with his sarcastic tone.
"Only the cute ones," she quipped.
"Well, you can't tell that unless you see 'em yourself," he pointed out, though there was something insinuative in his eyes that stilled Morgan's features. As he took the bag off the counter, he stepped back, and added, "You could come by, judge their infinite cuteness, and show me how to feed them. If you want."
Morgan's eyes shifted to the clock on the computer screen at her left and exhaled. It was almost time to take her lunch. Surely she could leave and come back on time, couldn't she? No, a voice at the back of her mind was firm, this is a very bad idea. Though, it wasn't nearly her worst. Besides, a litter of kittens needed aid—what could be more selfless than that? At least she would have an excuse for breaking the rules today.
With a single nod, she smiled. "How about now? Sooner the better. For the kittens."
"Sure. Wouldn't want the kittens to starve."
Of course. The kittens. Morgan felt stupid signing out on the computer for her lunch, getting her coat and tugging on her hat. But she was simply reaching out as a friend, was she not? Attraction meant nothing without action, and interacting in a friendly manner did nothing of the sort—and on, and on, and on her mind went. She listened to herself on a loop as she followed Jacob out of the shop, flipping the sign before locking the door after them.
The only car parked in the lot was an old station wagon. It idled a few spaces from the door, a driver visible enough to notice. Morgan turned as she walked to move backward, better angling herself to look up at Jacob as they crossed the lot. "Is it gonna be okay I'm coming with you?" she asked, a bit quiet. "Because it's totally cool if not. I can-"
"What? Walk?" Jacob interrupted, an eyebrow raised as his mouth slanted in a humored smirk.
Morgan sarcastically exaggerated a shrug. "I really don't want to cause any problems."
"You won't. And if there was a problem, I'd just walk with you."
"Kiss-ass!" the sarcastic insult was hurled through the driver's side window of the station wagon, cracked just enough to transfer sound, and Jacob rolled his eyes.
Morgan swiveled on her heels to face the car again as a chuckle threatened to enter her throat. Jacob walked around the front of the vehicle and slid into the passenger seat as Morgan tugged open the back driver's side door. She eased herself onto the seat before pulling the door closed and reaching for the seat belt. Jacob had turned in his seat to see her in the back, gesturing toward the driver. "This is my friend Quil," he introduced him.
"I'm more widely known as Jake's more attractive second cousin," Quil quipped, as he began backing out of the parking space.
That was when Morgan allowed herself to truly laugh. The car was moving forward, pulling onto the road, and she leaned aside to better see Quil. "Does that work for you, though? Like, do people agree with you when you say that?" she questioned, between bubbling chuckles.
Jacob grinned knowingly at his friend, but Quil was far too dedicated to the line. "Yeah, okay, it needs work—but I think word's finally spreading," he replied, even as Jacob began shaking his head. Morgan's laughter continued quietly, raising a hand to cover her mouth with her knuckles. Quil didn't appear to be particularly unattractive even from the skewed view Morgan had of him from the back seat. He looked young, with full cheeks and a mess of dark brown curls atop his head.
In fact, she knew at least three girls off hand that would most likely find him very attractive. However, he was simply no competition—not when she'd seen Jacob first. Quil stood no chance when put in comparison now. They were barely to the 'welcome to Forks' sign before he started asking questions. "So, I have to ask," he began, and Morgan paused. "Are your siblings actually dating each other? Isn't that kinda weird?"
"Dude, come on," Jacob's head lulled toward Quil, features flattened despite the warning in his eyes. A silent reprimand visible from the back seat.
"It's fine," Morgan shook her head, before adjusting in her seat to better see Quil in the rear view mirror. "Yeah, they're dating. But they're all adopted. Only ones related are Rose and Jasper, and they're dating separate people. I can see how it looks weird, though."
Quil glanced up at her in the mirror. "Why aren't you dating anyone?"
She smiled a closed-mouthed smile as the reasoning for the line of questioning crossed her mind. Truly, she was flattered—though, a bit disbelieving. How was he not fawning over the girls on the reservation? Morgan had seen some of them come into the pet store. She was no match for their natural warmth and beauty. It was confusing, in the back of her mind.
"My brothers are pretty protective, so I wouldn't wish that nightmare on anyone," she answered, shifting her gaze to the view of the window. "My sisters aren't much better."
"What about your dad? He's a doctor, right?"
Morgan nodded. "He's pretty mellow in comparison. You'd get to the end of the driveway before he'd use the shotgun—fighting chance and all that."
Jacob chuckled in the front seat. The sound tugged her eyes forward again, even if just for a moment. "Where are you guys from?" Quil asked. Most people had heard rumors of where the Cullens 'originated'. What brought them to Forks, of all places. Though, it had turned into the world's biggest game of telephone, and just about everyone had a different story now.
"Well, I'm technically Canadian, but we were living with family in Denali before this," Morgan answered, as straight forward and casual as possible amongst the heap of lies and half-truths.
Jacob turned in his chair then, brow furrowed as he looked back at her. "You're Canadian? How'd that happen?"
"Bro, you didn't even know she was Canadian?" Quil feigned shock and disappointment, teasing Jacob as he took sporadic glances from the road. "How in love with her can you be?"
An involuntary sound escaped Morgan, something between a scoff and a gasp, but it was drowned out by Jacob playfully sending his fist into Quil's upper arm. The car jerked to the left from a tug at the wheel as Quil ducked aside, failing to dodge the incoming hit. Morgan yelped. "Guys, put 'em away and watch the road!"
But the boys were laughing in the front seats, despite Quil rubbing at his arm. Briefly, Morgan wondered how long it would take Alice to tell her brothers something concerning. How long it would take for the vultures to intervene and pluck her from the situation by whatever means necessary. They'd done it times before. However, doing it now would truly ruin their chances of staying in Forks through the rest of her high school years.
After all, that was on of the main reasons they settled in Forks. Stability. They'd been forced to move ahead of schedule a few times before for one reason or another, and the total of places they've lived has only grown since taking her on. But what kind of life was that for a child? She would never be able to put down roots somewhere, branch out and make friends, settle down with a life partner of her own—for however brief that life might be.
It was all Carlisle and Esme had wanted for Morgan since she was a toddler, and Forks seemed to be the place to do it. There was potential here, but they needed to play their cards right, take any precaution possible. Though, Morgan knew how impulsive the others could be when it came to her. Namely Edward and Emmett. Finally, they arrived at a small house with red siding at the edge of the woods, near the end of the street.
As Morgan climbed out of the back seat, she took a quick glance around, eyeing the trees a little longer than she probably should have. Although, not seeing her brothers certainly lended no confidence, given their ability to blend in. All the decades of hunting only made surveillance much easier. Quil and Jacob exited the vehicle just as the front door to the house swung open, revealing Billy in his wheelchair.
He smiled warmly as he eased his chair through the doorway, onto the gravel and dirt of the driveway. "It's good to see you again, Morgan," he greeted her specifically, giving a small nod as he approached. "I'd say I'm surprised you decided to tag along, but these kittens are about the most adorable things I've ever seen. You won't be disappointed."
"It's good to see you, too, sir. I hope I'm not intruding by coming over unannounced," Morgan said, pushing her door closed.
"Not at all. Besides, Jacob here's been talking about wanting to spend more time with you, so it works out."
Billy's smile was knowing, fully aware of how he'd just embarrassed his son. Quil clapped a hand against Jacob's shoulder blade as he barked a laugh, and Jacob sighed heavily, half glaring at his father. Morgan's cheeks flushed against the pale of the cold air as she exaggerated her surprise—attempting to appear unaware of the implications of Billy's words. "Thanks, dad," Jacob barely refrained from rolling his eyes, a splash of color in his cheeks.
"Just keeping it real, son," Billy briefly tilted his head in an expression, proud of his actions, and Morgan pulled her lips inward. It was in fact quite funny, the stereotypical antics of a father going out of his way to be embarrassing around his child's friends and enjoying himself way too much.
It was something her father never did. After all, she'd never brought any friends to her house. She'd never introduced any friends to her family at all. That kind of embarrassment was worth it, given all it meant. "Actually, I've been wanting to hang out, too," Morgan spoke up, glancing toward Jacob as she attempted to relieve some of the social pressure. "But I didn't get your number, so I haven't been able to reach out. You wanna trade?"
She dug into her pocket and retrieved her flip phone, holding it up in a gesture as she asked the question. The device was meant as a safety precaution. That way she could call emergency services or simply call one of her brothers if there was ever a problem. Though, she didn't quite use it for that purpose. Jacob's features pulled up in surprise by the response, but how could he say no?
Even with the weight of Quil's and his father's eyes, he couldn't bring himself to reject the offer, to reject her. Instead, he found himself smiling as he dug into his pocket for his own phone. "Yeah, sure," he agreed, as Quil looked on in a mixture of disbelief and pride.
Billy smiled a small, closed-mouthed smile to himself as he turned his chair and began making his way back toward the door. Quil followed shortly behind, and Morgan and Jacob floated aimlessly in their direction with their heads bowed, eyes focused on the devices in their hands. Though, with the others far enough away, Jacob lowered his voice and leaned toward Morgan to be heard.
"You know, I appreciate what you did and all, but you don't have to give me your number out of pity," he pointed out, lightheartedly.
Morgan playfully scoffed, lifting her eyes from the phone in her hand. "I got your number, so who's really getting suckered here?"
The laugh that crawled up his throat came from somewhere deep in his chest, and although he bowed his head to resume adding his contact information to her cell phone, she could make out the deeper hue over the bones of his cheeks. It would be impossible to miss the toothy smile that pierced his cheeks as he handed back her phone. She took it from his hand, returning his with the other, and she couldn't fight the cheeky grin upturning her lips.
Morgan sidestepped to bump her shoulder into his arm in a gesture before quickening her pace as she purposed to follow Billy and Quil into the house. But Jacob was reeling in the best way, a warmth in his chest threatening to set him alight, the smoke almost dizzying. How was he to act inconspicuous when he felt ready to combust? More curiously, how did her good manners and niceties manage to be the culprit?
It seemed so ridiculous, his body's reaction to her, and he shook his head at himself as he quickly followed the others into the house. As he closed the door behind him, Quil and Morgan were sat on the couch, peering into the cardboard box they'd placed the kittens in hours before. "Oh my god!" Morgan practically squealed, despite the hushed volume of her voice. "They're so fuzzy!"
She moved to sit on the floor beside the box, getting closer to the kittens inside. Jacob hung up his coat and set the bag of supplies she'd given him beside the couch before taking a seat beside Quil. "Can you tell how old they are?" Quil asked Morgan.
"Well...two have their eyes open and the others look like they're almost there, so at least a week old," Morgan answered, as she hovered over the box to get a better look. "And you guys just found them this morning?"
Billy exited the kitchen then, coming to join the others in the living room. "There's been a stray hanging around the house for a couple of weeks. I guessed that she would have a litter somewhere on the property, so we kept our eyes out. Somehow she kept them hidden in the garage until this morning," he explained, arriving at Morgan's left.
"Have you seen her today?" Morgan glanced up at him.
He shook his head sadly, and her lips corkscrewed to the left in thought, looking back down at the kittens in the box. With it being so cold outside, it was the smartest thing, bringing them inside. The poor things would surely freeze—or starve, depending on what happened to the mother. Though, it was bittersweet, when thinking of where the mother might be.
Sighing, Morgan nodded. "It was a good idea to bring them in. It's gonna be a lot of work to hand feed all of them, though."
"I'll ask around, see if anyone wants to take one in," Billy said. Another bittersweet but good idea. There were only so many of them available to help these kittens. It would be hard to split them up, but they were still so young that it might not matter as much as long as they were being cared for.
Jacob lifted a brow in jest, "Think your family needs a cat, Em?"
A jolt shot through Morgan, but she didn't move. Instead, she stilled, pausing as her eyes darted toward him. Nicknames weren't entirely something she was used to. Of course, her siblings had called her various things over the years, and she'd heard the usual 'sweetheart', 'honey', and 'dear' from her parents. But this felt uniquely hers. That, combined with the source, nearly choked her words.
She chuckled, glancing down at the kittens. "Uh...I don't know. We already have a dog and she's pretty hyper," she explained, a bit timidly. "I could always just bring one home to foster. I mean, this is kind of like homework, right? Who needs a sack of flour, anyway?"
Billy chuckled once, though the new information was enlightening. The Cullens had a dog. Vampires didn't typically have pets. What was so different about this dog? Was it simply a part of the ruse? It had to be. But if Morgan was able to bring home animals without injury or push-back, what did that say about the Cullens? "Well, first come, first served," he said, and gestured a hand briefly toward the box. "Take your pick."
"Which project looks the cutest?" Quil joked, leaning forward to peer in.
Every kitten was small and fluffy, little bundles of fur like cotton balls. They wriggled amongst each other in the box in a mess of black, white, orange, and gray. Most were multi-colored, but there was a mostly-solid-color that caught her eye, crawling slowly and haphazardly over its siblings. Its coat was a soft gray marbling that resembled the sky on a rainy day.
Morgan reached into the box and carefully slid her fingers beneath its tiny body. The kitten instinctively hissed and flexed its paws, but its wide eyes found hers as she plucked it from the safety of the box, and it blinked up at her quietly. "Hi there," she softened her voice as she held the kitten closer. "Aren't you pretty?"
"What about you, Quil?" Jacob forced his eyes away, to his friend beside him.
"Definitely gonna have to ask my parents about this one," Quil replied, huffing a small chuckle.
"I can show you guys how to feed them if you want," Morgan offered, glancing up from the kitten in her hands, though reluctantly. "Who knows when they ate last."
Billy nodded. "That's a good idea."
Carefully, Morgan placed her kitten back into the box and reached for the bag of supplies. She was by no means an expert on pet care. However, she'd helped care for kittens once before, however briefly. And she needed to know various animal knowledge working at a pet store, so she'd done her fair share of reaching into various topics.
When she was eleven, she'd declared to the family that she wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. It seemed to follow her, but stayed just enough out of reach to seem impossible, though close enough to keep a spark of hope alive. While she acted, she spoke aloud what she was doing and why, giving instructions—mostly directed at the boys.
The milk replacer formula needed to be warm, but not too warm. Kittens needed gently handled, allowed space when fed, so as not to overwhelm them with forceful feeding. She demonstrated on the gray kitten she'd picked earlier. There were enough syringes for Jacob and Quil to feed two others, which helped get through the litter much faster. The sooner they were fed, the less chance of starvation and dehydration. Two conditions the kittens were probably close to already.
After a few minutes, Billy excused himself from the group, and Morgan didn't think much of it as he left the room. Though, she did find herself falling into a hole of curious thoughts as her mind flickered back to their first meeting. The look in his eye, the subtle interrogation—it seemed any time she shared information, he made a swift exit. Where was he off to?
Or, possibly, who was he off to? Surely he knew Sam Uley. It was a close knit community. How could he not? She wondered then just what could be shared between them about her, with such little details. Most likely, they speculated the reasoning for the Cullens' relocation to Forks, making guesses as to what kind of cargo was she. She didn't blame them for being wary, or even being angry, about their arrival.
They were so close to the line already. And although Morgan's half-humanity offered her a little more leniency than the others, she was still a Cullen. She still lived in their house, profited from their wealth, and enjoyed their company. If that didn't make her at least a minor enemy, she didn't know what did. But she tried her best to bury it all in the back of her mind, beating back the thoughts with a metaphorical stick as she focused on the task at hand.
Once the kittens were fed, Jacob helped Morgan settle her project kitten into an old shoe box with a soft towel. It was the best way to transport it with her to the pet store for the rest of her shift. Then, she would set it up with cozy blankets at home, and the small creature would live like royalty for the duration of its stay. Quil offered to drive her back and drop her off. Though she didn't want to inconvenience him, the only other option would be to call one of her siblings. Or, worse, her parents.
So, she gratefully accepted the offer and followed him outside to the car. "I'll set aside the crate and some more milk replacer when the shipment comes in tomorrow," Morgan reminded, over her shoulder as Jacob stepped outside behind them.
"Okay, great," he bobbed his head in a nod, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Thanks for all your help. We really appreciate it."
Morgan paused to turn around at the front of the car. She shook her head as she faced him, waving it away with a small hand gesture. "No, it's my pleasure. I'm happy to help. Tell your dad I said goodbye?"
"Yeah, I'll tell him. I'll text you with updates on these guys."
"Thanks," she smiled and took steps backward, haphazardly continuing her trek to the passenger side of the vehicle as the engine roared to life. "See you around."
Her hand raised in a small wave before she turned forward and walked quickly the rest of the way to her door. "See ya," he returned the smile, pulling a hand from his pocket to wave back. She caught the gesture as she slid into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed behind her.
Morgan sighed heavily as she closed the passenger side door, but Liz was quick to roll its window down. "Hey, if they give you shit for bringing it home, I will gladly make a PowerPoint for you," she offered, only partly in jest as she leaned across the seats toward the passenger window.
"Thanks, Liz. I'll remember that," Morgan chuckled, furrowing her brow sarcastically a moment before relaxing, smiling tiredly at her friend. "See you at school."
"Bye! Good luck!"
Morgan waved over her shoulder as she took to the stairs. She hugged the shoe box close to her chest, the kitten inside tucked in beneath half the towel to keep it warm in transport. Liz turned around in the driveway and started back down the road, disappearing around the bend of trees, just as Morgan reached the front door. It was a bit nerve wracking to bring a kitten home without permission.
Though, she knew the harshest reactions would come from people whose opinions didn't matter in the grand scheme. Odds were, Carlisle and Esme would be surprised, but generally supportive of her attempt to help a defenseless animal. It would look to them like a display of good character, solid morals, compassion. They would want to continue building those parts of Morgan up even at the cost of some parental authority, given her lack of asking for permission.
Knowing this, she still exhaled a shaky breath as she pushed open the glass door. Halfway open, the door pulled free from her hand, a blur of color forming the appearance of Edward. He arrived in a fraction of a second, taking the door from her to further open it—but his expression was less than pleasant. "We need to talk," he spoke quietly, the tone matching his lowered brows and down-turned mouth.
"About?" Morgan cocked an eyebrow expectantly.
However, she knew he would see through any attempt to act innocent, so it wasn't a surprise when his fingers encircled her upper arm. His eyes rolled as he turned away from her, tugging her along as he took steps further into the house. The door fell closed behind them with a hollow, quiet thud. Morgan didn't fight him, but she huffed a sigh as he pulled her into the living room, ducking behind the wall.
Sounds echoed in faintly from the kitchen, but the wall blocked any view one of their siblings might have from the other room. The positioning was deliberate. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Edward practically hissed the words as he let her go, turning to face her. He leaned in to further keep his voice down. "We warned you not to cross the treaty line, and you've done it multiple times now! If I couldn't hear your thoughts right now, I'd question if there was anything in there at all."
Morgan glared up at him, leaning back on her heels to force an inch of distance. "If you can hear what I'm thinking, why are you talking to me at all? You know what happened at the beach. I'm safe."
"Of course they're not gonna hurt you, Morgan. They're just going to use you. They probably think you've been kidnapped by us-"
"Fuck you," she spat the words at him and his head recoiled, brows furrowing in surprise of the response. But her hands were shaking where they clutched the shoe box at her chest, adrenaline rushing through her veins at the very thought of confrontation—but this was bound to happen. The other shoe finally dropped. "How dare you stand there and question my loyalty to this family. What- you think I'm gonna spill all our secrets? Go off script and give us up? Right, because I'm just a piece of shit inconvenience you have to deal with, who's clearly not capable of basic intelligence. It's not like the wolves know what you all are already. Silly me."
Morgan turned on her heel and took steps toward the foyer entrance, and Edward shook his head in frustration and mild confusion. "That's not what I meant, Morgan-"
"Stay out of my fucking head, asshole!"
The shout echoed from the stairs as he arrived at the foyer, her quick steps of anger taking her too far away to call back. He might have gone after her, attempted to explain, had it not clicked bitterly in his brain just where he went wrong. No, that wasn't quite what he meant to say. But that's what he did say. "What's going on here?" Esme questioned, as she entered the foyer from the kitchen.
She looked to Edward for an explanation with eyebrows raised expectantly. After all, their conversation could be heard halfway across the house even to human ears. Edward sighed as he caught sight of her, the motherly rush of concerns within her swirling through the air like wisps of smoke. It didn't help hearing the harsh slam of Morgan's door. "It was a misunderstanding," he assured her, calmly. "I'll fix it later."
"You confronted her about the boy, didn't you?" she tilted her head, tone rhetorical.
"In a sense."
"Edward, we said we wanted to talk to her as a family-"
"Yeah, I know," Edward exhaled heavily, barely refraining from rolling his eyes once again, and started for the stairs. "Just let Emmett or Jasper talk to her and she'll be fine—they make her happier than I do."
"You know, you'd have a better relationship if you actually spent some time with her," Esme pointed out, however gently.
He acted indifferent to the statement, but the truth of it sunk into his chest like a hot poker. It burned him to think he couldn't have that bond with her, the kind the others took the time and care to foster throughout her life, and just how easy things could be now if he did. Though, it was impossible to reverse a decision made over a decade ago. Now, it was clear she didn't have the same understanding for his involuntary intrusions as the rest of the family.
To her, it was egregious and hurtful no matter the circumstance. He wondered how much more offended she'd be if he'd told her he already shared the news of her travels with the others. The very kind of act she despised him for. But how could he not? Of course the wolves would not harm her now, as it went against their strict morals. However, if causing her harm could somehow benefit them in a conflict between the parties, who was to say they wouldn't follow through?
The safety of the family was a concern, but she was truly in far over her head and someone needed to force her to see reason before it was too late. Though, he knew that person would have to be someone other than him as he eyed her closed bedroom door. It was only a matter of time before their hard heads collided with prejudice. He had just hoped it wouldn't have resulted in further distance—instead, maybe it could've ended in resolution? But, once again, it was his own fault.
Morgan emptied a basket from beneath her bed and folded a soft blanket, stuffing the fabric into the space to make a better place for her new roommate. Her fingers still trembled as she kneaded it into place and she freed a hand only to swipe at the skin beneath her nose. She knew eventually he would rat her out and potentially start a fight. However, she never imagined he would corner her and say such hurtful things. Maybe it was plain worry getting the better of him, but assuming that didn't quite take enough sting out of the wound left behind.
She tried to focus her eyes but they fought to zone out, her mind racing back through every snub, disapproving look, act of disgust, accusation. She'd known for years how he regarded her. Though, it was moments like these that every little detail mattered most, adding fuel to the fire of her bout of despair. The kitten was completely unaware of any turmoil as it stretched its paws, comfortable in the basket. Blissful ignorance would be nice, she thought, gently running the pad of her index finger over its soft fur.
Knocks against the wood of her bedroom door only caused her to sigh a shaky breath. Despite the lump in her throat and the gentle haze of her vision, she pushed herself to her feet in a smooth motion, steps driven by leftover anger as she started for the door. She spoke loudly as she reached the handle, pulling open the door, "I don't wanna hear a half-assed apology, Edward, so just-"
Her voice cut in her throat at the sight of Jasper just outside the room. His golden eyes were softened, features melted in apology and sympathy on his face. Morgan shook her head, biting anxiously at her bottom lip, the lump high enough she could feel it pressing against her gag reflex. "Please don't," she pleaded quietly, hanging by a single finger on the wire she used to tread.
"I won't apologize for him," Jasper gave a shake of his head. "But I would like to explain, on behalf of the rest of us."
Although reluctant, Morgan stepped back, pulling the door open enough to allow him to enter. She mumbled a small "come in" beneath her breath, and he eased his way inside the room. As she pushed the door closed, the basket on the bed caught his eye. The kitten inside slept, unbothered by the noise, too comfortable to care. It was a small bubble of relief from the heavy ache radiating off her—the sweet idea that she snuck the animal inside.
She took steps across the room before perching herself on the thick edge of the footboard, bracing her palms against the wood on either side of her legs. "Can you explain to me why Edward hates me so much?"
Jasper paused, confused. "Edward doesn't hate you, darlin'."
"Then why does he act like it?" she pressed. She reached a hand up, swiping quickly at a single droplet racing over her cheek bone, dismissing it amidst the conversation. But the action only further pained her brother.
"He cares very deeply for you," Jasper began his explanation slowly, a bit hesitant. After all, it was something that should come from Edward himself. However, it was unclear if Edward even had the intention to do so in Morgan's lifetime. "Do you remember, we stayed in Halifax after we found you? In that house by the water?"
Morgan nodded numbly, recalling the stories. "I've seen the pictures."
"Has anyone ever told you why we left?"
It was then that she paused. No, no one had told her that story. Though, she couldn't remember herself ever asking. When she shook her head in reply, Jasper came closer, bending to sit on the footboard to her right. His body language was apprehensive, nervous, and it ignited not only curiosity, but worry within Morgan. What was he going to tell her? Why did it have him in knots?
Instinctively, Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder. It drew his eyes, turning his head almost immediately, and he gave a warm but closed-mouthed smile. "It's something we don't like to talk about. It was a very dark day for us," he explained, gently. "We'd been taking shifts caring for you since the beginning. Edward adored you—he was happiest when he got to spend time with you. One day, a tracker got wind of you, followed your scent to the house. The rest of us were out hunting."
The longer he spoke, the tighter Morgan's stomach became, twisting into a mess of dread and worry. And, suddenly, it wasn't so hard to understand his reluctance to tell her this story. Still, she couldn't force her eyes away as he continued, "You were just two years old, but somehow that just made the tracker want you more. We think he might've known what you were before we did somehow. He attacked Edward and nearly killed you both. The scar you have on your ankle is from his teeth."
Eyes rounded in an instant, her hands flew to her ankle, leaning back to lift her heel onto the footboard enough to look. She was bending herself in half, but she needed to see it. Sure enough, the thin line drawn in a half circle over her ankle bone looked suspiciously dotted, dashed—though she would've never come to that conclusion just by looking without the context. All this time, she'd assumed it was just a birthmark of some kind.
The dread in her gut had turned sour as she allowed her heel to slip off the footboard. Her shoe hit the floor with a slap, but the sound didn't touch her ears. There was a distinct ringing, turning her head to look at Jasper, who waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts. Though, there weren't any thoughts to collect. It was simply a rubber band ball of half questions and realizations rolling around in the otherwise emptiness of her brain.
After a silent moment, his hand encircled hers, giving a comforting squeeze. "Edward took it the hardest," his voice was far more quiet than it had been for. "He became convinced that it was better for you if he wasn't as involved in your upbringing, and he refused to participate. We tried to change his mind—but he was a different person after that day. None of us could get through to him."
"So...he acts like he can't stand me...because he thinks that was his fault?" Morgan questioned, slowly to avoid a stammer.
Jasper nodded once. "Put simply."
"Why has no one told me about this? Didn't I have a right to know? I thought that was a birthmark!"
Her voice raised with the concern that bubbled over in frustration, and he exhaled. "We all agreed not to talk about it until you were old enough to understand, and not be fearful of it. And, most of us were waiting for Edward to come around and tell you himself," Jasper shrugged faintly.
The explanation was not nearly enough. Though, it would have to do until she could muster up the courage to ask Edward about it. This conversation was sorely needed, but she knew it was going to hurt, and she didn't know if she was quite ready for that level of pain.
