"Why do I feel like everything's fine one second-" Morgan's body jerked at the sudden sound of Bella's voice, quickly retracting her head from her locker to find she stood just to her left now, her voice somewhat hushed. "-and the next i'm back in the dog house?"

Morgan's eyes widened briefly in an expression as she exhaled heavily through her lips. "Uh…what?" she questioned, apologetically confused.

"Sorry, um- Edward was fine in class, and then in the hall, he just…walked away," Bella clarified. Her demeanor read as vaguely annoyed, and Morgan could understand why—after all, she was feeling annoyed herself just at the idea of Edward's possible behavior. It was his first day back at school after leaving so abruptly. Already, he was proving the break to be useless.

"Well, what were you guys talking about?"

Morgan continued reorganizing her locker as she listened. It was a good excuse for looking away, hiding transparent expressions. Bella sighed as she folded her arms and leaned a hip against the lockers. "I don't know. I just asked if he was wearing contacts. His eyes were really dark before, but by the lockers they looked golden," she explained. It felt like a stone dropped into the pit of Morgan's gut. "Was I not supposed to ask or something?"

It was frustrating to think that Edward's expert solution to that question was to walk away, and that she would have to fix his mess yet again. But the possibility of her making it worse was terrifying. Morgan forced herself to swallow. There weren't many ways to explain away a change in eye color that didn't bring up further questions, and not many of those could be thought up on such short notice. Bella was watching her closely, though not to catch her in a lie—no, every mannerism and choice of word was scrutinized for answers.

There were far too many questions and it seemed the only ones she could get were given, and freely given at that, by Morgan. After a beat, Morgan finally spoke again, distracting herself with a meticulous repositioning of her pencil case. "He's the most private of all my siblings. He probably just felt a little boxed in. Should've handled it better—but, Bella, don't take it personally."

"Well, it's starting to feel personal," Bella scoffed.

"I'm sorry," Morgan apologized, sparing a glance in her direction. "I wish I could say something to him that would matter, but I'm in the same boat you are."

Bella's brows knitted in confusion, and she turned against the lockers to face Morgan a bit more. "But you guys all seem so…close."

"We are. Edward and I have a complicated relationship. On and off. We're off right now."

"I'm sorry, I…I didn't know," Bella shook her head. In tightening her arms over her chest, movement drew Morgan's eye—and an eyebrow raised on her forehead at the sight of an onion, spray-painted gold in her hand. "I mean, that's gotta be pretty difficult, right? You guys living together?"

With a light exhale, Morgan closed her locker, and pulled her bag strap up onto her shoulder. "It gets tricky, for sure. We've got a lot of mediators, though," she answered her.

"Yo! Banana boat!"

Bella's and Morgan's features both scrunched up like a mirror image at the sound of a masculine voice—though, Morgan recognized it immediately as Emmett's. She twisted on her heels to find him halfway down the hall, Rosalie at his side, as Jasper and Alice waited by the exit. Morgan's hands jutted out at her sides in a gesture. "'Banana boat'? That's all you got?" she shouted to be heard across the distance, a show of normality for Bella.

"Your sweater's yellow," Emmett shrugged. "You ready? We're heading out."

"Why not just call me Colonel Mustard? Big missed opportunity, bro."

Bella chuckled a little at the humor despite her stressed state. It was always a bit humorous, sometimes endearing, when the Cullen siblings interacted. In every conversation, Morgan was quick to establish a banter, a rapport. Perhaps that was what made her appear so much more friendly than her siblings? The strategy? For Morgan, it was to make friends. For the others, simply to survive the smallest amount of socializing possible.

Maybe they were just private? After all, wasn't it difficult for most kids in the adoption system? They could be apprehensive to make friends or reach out due to a number of perfectly normal reasons just for that fact. Bella was overthinking it again, she knew. But how could she not? Pulling herself from her thoughts, she forced her lips into a casual smile. "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, gently nudging the back of Morgan's arm with her elbow.

Morgan turned back toward her, angled to see both ends of the hallway, and returned the smile with a nod. "See you tomorrow."

Despite being the first to say parting words, Bella stayed there, by the lockers, and watched as Morgan crossed the hall to join her other siblings. Emmett threw his arm around her shoulders as they began walking toward the exit together and they exchanged words she couldn't quite overhear—and she couldn't bring herself to pull her eyes away until they'd all filed outside.

The five of them descended the stairs to the parking lot. Edward was already waiting there, leaning back against the end of Emmett's Jeep. He pushed off to stand as they approached. "What took you guys so long?" he questioned, to no one in particular.

"Morgan needed to finish talking with Bella," Alice piped up, all too eager to share, and her excitement caused Morgan pause.

She stood beneath Emmett's arm, the thick hood of her coat the only thing keeping her from feeling the cold of the muscle and bone, and her eyes jutted between Alice and Edward. He looked at Alice pointedly—no, glared—and there was something in her eyes Morgan couldn't quite read. It was the vision. What else could it be? Clearly, there was more to Alice's vision than Bella arriving in Forks. With the way they flaunted it in front of her, it was nearly impossible not to ask.

Part of her wondered if that was the point. If Alice wanted her to know whatever it was she saw, and that was why she was so unabashed in the obvious breach of promise. Was it truly that important? Surely, it must be. "What's so special about Bella?" Morgan blurted the question, her features twisted tightly in confusion and a pinch of frustration.

Edward leaned back on his heels as he looked at Alice with a unique shade of are you happy now?, but Alice only pursed her lips in return. Rosalie was glaring at Alice now, too, and Emmett couldn't help but feel a bit awkward as he looked between the three of them expectantly for some kind of answer. They couldn't actually tell her, could they? She'd specifically requested not to be told these things. Then again, Alice did all but write the answer in neon paint on the pavement.

In the following silence, the wordless conversations taking place in the group with no explanation, Morgan grew restless. "So, what, you guys are just gonna keep acting like you have sticks up your asses every time someone mentions Bella and act like I don't notice?" she huffed a sigh, glancing at all the faces visible. "You've done enough—I already know Alice had a vision about Bella. The promise clearly doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters," Rosalie insisted, in a kind of growl directed toward Alice.

"But this is important," Alice argued, looking only at Rosalie. "We're obviously not hiding it well, anyway. Anything else would just be another lie."

Morgan's eyes darted toward Alice. "'Another' lie? There's more?"

"Now you've done it," Edward turned away, toward the Jeep, as he scrubbed his face with his hands.

"She already made it clear that she doesn't want to know," Rosalie sneered at Alice.

Emmett spoke up then, "Hey—maybe we should take this home? We can talk about it there."

It was only sensible to move the discussion some place more private. After all, they were standing in the school parking lot with students pooling, grouping by their cars as they said their farewells before driving home for the evening. Any one of them could overhear. Still, Morgan couldn't shake the frustration, and the idea of going home to her parents with this only worsened it.

"No," she shook her head, drawing the eyes of all her siblings. "Carlisle will just sweep it under the rug like he always does. Can't anyone just tell me what's going on?"

It was then that her ears caught the sound of an awful crunch. Loud, shrieking, metallic crunch. Morgan's body lurched hard in a startle, adrenaline darting straight into her veins, and Emmett was quick to wrap his other arm around her front to keep her in place in an instinctive swipe. Her eyes flitted every which way to find the source of the sound—though, they needn't go too far.

Across the parking lot, a dark blue van jostled to a stop parallel to an orange truck. Bella's truck. She craned her head back to look up at Emmett, before her gaze searched for Rosalie and Alice on either side, but all looked on not with worry. The emotion on all their faces was the same. A kind of now look what you've done. But Morgan's eyes stopped where Edward once stood by the bumper of the Jeep, the space now empty in his place.

Teens from all corners of the lot ran toward the accident scene, murmuring and shouting for someone to call nine-one-one. It was in the frantic surge that Edward reappeared, his frame bounding up from the space between truck and van, using the bed of Bella's truck to leap over the other side. Though it was a bit of relief to see where he'd gone, Morgan understood the expressions of rue from her siblings now. The reality of it all was sinking into the pit of her stomach like a lead weight and her lungs began to burn.

"What the fuck did he just do?" she gasped, eyes rounded beyond comprehension.

Emmett's arms tightened around her as Jasper said, "Take her home. We'll talk to Carlisle and meet you at home." Briefly, in a glance at Morgan, he said, "And we'll talk about the language later."

Alice and Rosalie turned to get into their respective cars without a word. However, the steam from Rosalie's ears left a cloud in her wake. Emmett gave a nod to Jasper and started walking for the beetle, half-lifting and half-dragging Morgan along with him as her feet struggled to keep up with the speed of the situation. It was shock. They all recognized it. Some of it for what Edward had done and some for Bella's safety—but it kept her brain fogged regardless.

Emmett urged her into the passenger seat and closed the door, before hurrying around the back to find the driver's side. The space behind the wheel was quite small for his height as he slid onto the seat, cramping his legs into the only place available for them, and pulled the door closed. All that mattered at that moment was getting away from the school. It looked better if they weren't seen near the scene of the crime.

That, and Morgan was a second away from simply bounding across the lot to make sure Bella was okay. Jasper didn't need to feel her emotions to predict it. They were the last car to back from their space and follow after the others toward the exit, and Morgan sat at the edge of her seat by the window, looking through the glass at the circus the accident site had become. Students were swarmed around the vehicles at all angles. She wondered, briefly, humorously, how many calls to nine-one-one had been placed.

It looked like nearly everyone nearby had their cellphone to their ear—for what real reason, she didn't know. But, there she was—Bella—her head barely visible in the mess as they pulled out of the lot, and Morgan felt herself physically deflate. Being on her feet was a good sign. Though Morgan hoped her siblings wouldn't have hauled her off without doing something to help if they'd known Bella had been injured, she didn't doubt that they would've executed the same plan.

If she'd been hurt, most likely with a stronger pace. Morgan sat back in her seat, but she leaned her arm against the window sill and rested her temple against her knuckles with a sigh. "Did he just get us kicked out of Forks?" she asked, her eyes still lingering on the glass.

"I don't know, kid," Emmett was honest in his response. "Didn't look like anyone noticed Edward—but there's no way Bella missed him."

"That was supposed to happen, though, wasn't it? Bella finding out?"

He was silent. Morgan lifted her head only to turn her eyes toward him, lifting a brow to cement her rhetorical tone. Emmett's lips pulled together as he gave a loose shake of his head in a gesture. "Not my place to say."

"So, what—I said I didn't wanna know one time and now I can never take that back or make an exception?" she questioned him. "You guys have seriously dropped the ball on keeping it a secret. It's only fair that you just come out with it so I can stop losing my mind."

"Yeah, okay…yes, Bella was gonna find out. Alice says she's going to be one of us."

Morgan's heart thudded into the soles of her feet, her jaw loosening to part her lips in a gentle gape, and her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand in sharp crescents. One of us. The phrase dashed through her thoughts in a pattern of swirling dread, disbelief, and concern. "...W-what?"

Emmett exhaled a sound of muffled frustration. "I shouldn't have said anything," the statement was directed at himself, his features almost pained as guilt began to eat at his spine. "God, Rose's gonna kill me."

She turned in her seat to better face him, then, drawing his eyes in sporadic glances away from the road. "Emmett, forget about Rosalie—are you saying that Alice saw Bella becoming a vampire?" Morgan asked. It was in the question that she hung in a kind of suspended animation, bracing against either answer in preparation for the worst.

Dismayed, Emmett nodded. Morgan slumped back in her chair. It was obvious now why Alice couldn't keep this one to herself. Out of all the countless visions she'd had no problem sealing her lips for, this one was so incredibly different—and the taste on Morgan's tongue was bitter at the thought of it. Of course Alice wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut. They were going to get another family member. A new sister. "I'm really sorry, Morgan-" Emmett attempted to apologize.

Though, Morgan was quick to interrupt him, pushing enough of the sudden surge of disdain for Alice down her throat to speak up, "It's okay. I'm not mad at you. You actually kept your mouth shut. It was Edward and Alice that couldn't keep it to themselves."

"Hey, don't be too mad at Alice, alright? Sometimes when she sees things like this, she gets a little overexcited. I mean, wouldn't you?" he tried to play devil's advocate, to turn the tide positively. But Morgan wasn't in a place to hear it as anything other than obnoxious static.

She clenched her teeth, gaze moving back to the window. "No."


The sun shone brightly overhead, pillowy clouds blocking only a third of it as they peppered the blue sky. It was truly a beautiful day. The first of the season—but Morgan couldn't enjoy it. Her stomach was twisted so tightly it was now part of her intestines and her head throbbed mercilessly despite the ibuprofen she'd taken earlier. Nothing seemed to help. Not even her proximity to the ocean.

It tossed about as it pushed and pulled at the beach only a few yards away from where her feet dug into the dry sand, but any comfort or kindness it could give her was muted by the presence at her side. Jacob sat quietly there, eyes on the sand, and she knew it was only because he was trying to formulate a proper start to this conversation, though she wished he'd just say the first thing that came to mind. Potential insult aside, she would rather it hurt her than kill her.

Gently, she attempted to aid in his decision making. "I can just start talking, if that makes it easier. You can stop me when I say something interesting."

"Sorry," Jacob exhaled, with a shake of his head aimed at his own stammering. "I guess I just don't know where to start."

"Well, what was the first thing that went through your head when you saw me?"

He paused. "Something like…have you always been this way, or did something happen? You know, maybe she's born with it, maybe she fell in a vat of toxic fish-paste."

Morgan refrained from snorting at the sarcastic insinuation, instead settling for an airy chuckle as she leaned back against the rocks behind them. "I was born this way—but I didn't know until a couple years ago. I think it was a puberty thing," she explained, calmly.

"Is the lotion and excessive water-drinking because you dry out?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "My skin gets leathery if I don't. Sometimes, it peels off in a painful rash. I have to soak in a tub twice a day."

Jacob's nose wrinkled in an empathetic grimace as his head recoiled on his shoulders a bit. "Jesus. And I'm assuming your parents know about all this?"

"My whole family does."

"So…if you were born this way-"

"None of them are like me," Morgan was quick to squash the idea, shaking her head just as fast. It was then that Jacob's eyes finally met her face, squinted with skepticism, and she inhaled deeply. There was no way any of it would make sense if she continued to lie about her lineage. How could it? She was no miracle baby. She had parents just like Jacob—but they were not Cullens. "I'm…adopted, too."

"What? But you literally look just like your dad," Jacob pointed out, confused.

Morgan nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's how we get away with lying about it. My parents adopted me when I was a few days old. I was abandoned by my birth mother and it was a miracle they even found me alive at all. My dad says I was nearing hypothermia and I probably wouldn't have made it if they were a few minutes slower."

Somehow, it felt like she was saying too much and not enough at the same time. There was an urge to explain, to offer up any information that might make the wrong of her deception right, to balance the scales. But sharing these little truths felt as though she were stripped naked. Without Edward's intrusion into her thoughts, her family would never know she'd done it unless she told them herself. Even still, the fear they might find out somehow anyway loomed over her head like a dark cloud.

Jacob exhaled a huff of air as he took in the information. It made sense with the way she'd explained it, though it was difficult to wrap his head around the reality that this had been true all along. For as long as he'd known her, she'd been a different person with a different story—no. The same person. Morgan was still Morgan, he reminded himself, allowing himself to mirror her position by reclining back into the rocks. Morgan was Morgan and Jacob was Jacob and everything was still the same. And, at the same time, everything was so incredibly different.

How does one reconcile such a change? When the difference is information, thoughts in your head and how you perceive them, but the physicalities all remain unchanged? It felt as though it should be more. It should feel more different. After all, discovering your crush is secretly a mermaid is quite the revelation. Then he thought about her. The parts of her he'd seen that needed no cover-up. They were the parts he'd adored, and none of them were altered—in fact, most made much more sense now.

Fingers fidgeting in her lap, Morgan scrutinized his features for any sign of negativity, for any indication he might reject her. Because, in all honesty, that was her biggest fear. Not the depth of the ocean or the things her body could do, but the possibility that someone else could feel about her the way she'd felt about herself all these years. That someone could be as fearful and disgusted by what she was as she fought not to be even now. "Jacob, I'm so sorry I've lied to you," Morgan apologized sincerely, each word dripping with guilt. "It's been killing me. I'd understand if you never trusted me again-"

Jacob interrupted without hesitation, shaking his head as he sat upright, angling himself toward her a little more, "Hey, I understand why you didn't tell me. I mean, this is kind of a big thing to have to explain. You don't have to apologize, Em."

"You don't…think this is really weird?" she questioned, disbelief knitting her brow.

"Oh, it's weird," his eyes rounded briefly in an expression, huffing a pointed chuckle, but his features settled into something vaguely humored. Teasing. "I wouldn't say really weird, though. It's mild."

Instinctively, Morgan's palm jutted into the front of his shoulder—the corners of her lips tugged upward by proxy—and he bore the brunt of it with a laugh. The swat was a friendly kind of playful, but her chest was swelling, the left side drowning in the warm relief of his easy-going response. There was a certain kind of gleam to his eye that caught in her throat, that familiar toothy grin like a nail in the coffin. That was it. The moment it finally clicked.

Involving him was the last thing she wanted, but she'd had no say in the matter in the end. They were keeping secrets for each other now—for Jacob, she wouldn't share any information of his home, his family, or his friends to her own family and for Morgan, he would hide the truth about what she was from everyone around him—and there was a kind of endearment in it. But, if he knew what she was now, was arm's length really so necessary?

"Okay, I have to ask. Can I see it again?"

Morgan blinked. Her thoughts broken up like ice, shards scattering in every direction, and she mentally raced to gather them all. Though she struggled for context, she attempted to keep up. "Um…the tail?"

"Yeah," he nodded. Then, the skin of his face flushed a paler shade as his eyes filled with realization, and he spoke quickly, "If- you know, if that's not weird for you. That's probably really uncomfortable. You know what? Forget I asked."

"Whoa, slow down there. It's not a big deal. Really. I'm sure we can work something out," she assured him, a timid chuckle escaping her.

He sighed, though he gave an honest try at acting as if it weren't from relief, taking a glance at the beach around them as he readjusted his position. However, if anything, acting only made it more obvious—and Morgan fought a grin of her own. "You know, some tribes actually have stories about mermaids. Well- half-human, half-fish people-things," Jacob said. A pointed, but awkwardly delivered shift in conversation.

Intrigue lifted a brow on Morgan's forehead. "Really? Good stories or bad stories?"

"Depends on the tribe," he answered, a bit more smoothly. "My dad's probably the person to ask if you want details. He knows way more about all that than I do—and he's a lot better at explaining things."

"Hm. Well, maybe I'll pay him a visit. Think he'll believe me if I say it's for a school project?"

"Or, if you really wanted to seem inconspicuous, you could come over in the name of 'hanging out' and just happen to ask him about it," Jacob proposed. The corner of his mouth was creasing, pulling up into his cheek, and Morgan exhaled through her nose.

Toes curling into the sand to grip at something, clinging to the texture for a kind of grounding, she bobbed her head in a nod. "Yeah, that's probably less obvious."

"Great," he stood abruptly—at least, that's how it felt with her mind out of focus—and brushed the sand from the back of his jeans. "Guess we're going for a walk."

"Wait—right now? Will he be okay with me just showing up?"

Jacob huffed a chuckle as though the question was preposterous. And, maybe it was? Though, offending Billy was the last thing Morgan intended with this idea, and it was highest on her list of current fears. "You're kidding right? He loves you. It'll probably make his day," he answered her, before holding out a hand to help her up.

She accepted the offer with a closed-mouthed smile, but her arms erupted in bumps at the warmth against her fingers as they encircled his. He pulled her to her feet and retracted his hand just as soon but the heat lingered there in a kind of soft vibration, echoing friction never inflicted, and she was quick to avert her eyes. This was going to be impossible. She knew that now. After all, how could anyone function like this?

He knew almost everything about her. The only thing still hidden being the nature of her family and the effect it had on her on childhood—but did he truly need to know? All that was important, she'd told him. Well, all but one final detail, that is. As they trekked toward the parking lot to start the walk to Jacob's house, Morgan felt compelled to bring it up. To sneak it into the conversation somehow. It would no doubt be difficult to articulate just as it had at home. But, then again, this was Jacob. Words always seemed to come when she needed them for him.

Morgan slapped her bare feet against the pavement to shake off the sand on them before dropping her sandals and stuffing her feet into them in two steps forward, keeping up as Jacob walked backward in front of her, hands in the pockets of his jacket. She walked quickly to catch up with the three or four feet she had lost, falling into step with him as he turned to face forward again—and she inhaled a deep breath of sea air for her nerves.

"Actually, um…I didn't know much about what I can do and what it all means until a couple weeks ago," she voiced the words with a bent neck, head down to hide in a brace of the wind that whipped at her hair. "I'd never gone swimming like that until last week."

Gentle surprise swept over Jacob's features. "Why? Were you told you couldn't?"

"No, nothing like that. My parents put a pool in our basement so I had somewhere safe to go. No—the not swimming was just me being a coward, honestly. I never wanted to be this. I thought I was normal for so long. Anything else felt…wrong, you know?"

"Can't say I've ever felt the same, but I think I can imagine," he nodded slowly.

Morgan shook her head at herself briefly, at taking so long to get to the point, oversharing, and lifted a hand to push hair from her face. "Well, I said all that to say, I found that swimming hole by accident. I fell in, and I had this…dream? Vision? I don't know. And then again the second time," she explained. "But I saw this woman, the second time. She looked like me. I felt like I recognized her—or, like I should. And the voice I heard in both visions were the same. Hers."

"Who do you think she is?"

He was intrigued now. Eyeing her closely as though analyzing her could somehow conjure up a new clue to the mystery. Finally, Morgan looked up at him. Her stomach sloshed at the idea of voicing her theory aloud, speaking truth to it in any sense, but there was no point in hiding or lying about much of anything anymore. This was a safe place. He was safe. She could talk about these things, she knew, and there was no chance of them going anywhere else.

It was an emboldening thought, and she forced herself to swallow as she exhaled a shaky sigh. "I think it could be my real mother," her lips formed the words gingerly, as though they might cut at her skin on their way out. Though, it wouldn't be her lips that felt their sharp edges. Instead, it was the wall of Paul's inner ear, his enhanced hearing picking up every syllable from where he stood in the stand.

Although he'd already been tasked with keeping tabs on her each time she stepped onto the reservation, it would be a natural progression to find her. After all, her scent on the breeze was about to burn through the insides of his nostrils, and his temper wouldn't allow him to put up with it for long. But the context of their conversation just might. He'd been there from the beginning, far enough away to not immediately be noticed, though not so camouflaged he appeared suspicious to passersby.

The revelation that she was not human wasn't quite as shocking as one might think. It was more surprising that a family of vampires would care for a human child. However, if she wasn't human either, some kind of symbiotic relationship between the two species wasn't all that far fetched. It meant she served a purpose. Now that Paul knew, so did Sam, and so did Jared—and soon, so would Billy.