Sooo... (in a 'sing-song' voice) I had a guest review (giggles). Sorry, I'll be more serious. Or maybe not...

Before anyone wildly guesses that Bella's been a prostitute and got caught, blah blah blah (by the way, she SO hasn't)... How about you read the story a little more. Unless you read this story the first time around, no one but ME knows what she's been through. Bella is NOT weak in this story. She's just turned 18. She's a little broken and scared, she doesn't know what's going on right now, why she is where she is, and how much danger she's in, but she is. Not. Weak.

I will NOT change this story to suit your needs. It's already been written, right back in 2012! Yes, Edward is an arsehole, as I have previously stated. No, Bella isn't going from one abusive relationship to another. Again, read a little more before you judge.

Finally, if you want to rant about how silly Bella is being, at least have the balls to sign in.

Now, shall we continue..?

"What is it, what's wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice soft as I pulled away from her.

"I want my daddy," she whispered so softly I had to make sure of what she'd said. Her voice sounded so broken, which I assumed was because she hadn't used it properly in such a long time.

I looked into her eyes, and that's when I realized one thing. She was still just a little girl. A little girl who'd been suddenly ripped from her family. Who never had a chance to say goodbye. Who never had a chance to grieve.

Did she even know? Had she seen it happen, or had they been humane enough to not let her watch? My heart broke for her.

"Oh, Isabella," I answered sadly, hating to see the pain in her eyes.

I didn't even know where to start with that explanation, so I stalled for the time being. We walked together downstairs so that I could get her something to eat. She kept her eyes downcast while I wondered what she was thinking about.

Just a week ago she was going through hell. What was she thinking now? It drove me mad to look at her and have no idea how damaged she really was. Would we ever find out the depth of it all? Would we want to know?

"Thank you," she whispered brokenly when we reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You're welcome, Isabella," I replied with a small smile.

Mom was more than happy to feed her, she just needed to know what Isabella liked to eat. Charles had told us she liked crunchy peanut butter, with just about everything, but that was about it.

"Isabella, would you like some toast?" Mom asked as I helped her sit down at the table. She didn't exactly need help, but I helped all the same.

"Yes, thank you," she replied robotically.

"You don't have to have it, Isabella. Mom would be happy to cook you anything you want," I said gently.

She shook her head gently, disagreeing with me.

"Look at me," I said firmly into her ear.

Her body shook a little before she raised her sad eyes to mine. I pulled my gaze from her to give Mom a look. She nodded sadly before leaving the room. I took Isabella's hand and all but yanked her up from the table. I wasn't cross with her, but she needed to see something.

"Isabella, everything in this kitchen is for you to use. All the food, all the drinks, you can have it. If you want to cook something, that's fine, too. If you have eaten, but are still hungry, help yourself to more," I said gently while I started to show her what was in all of the cupboards.

Her eyes widened at the amount of food, and I could almost hear the cogs whirring in her mind. She finally allowed me to make her some muesli and toast along with some coffee. Though she ate slowly, she finished it all.

When I offered her more, she shook her head violently, a small smile playing on her lips.

"As long as you're full," I said with a nod then took her dishes to the dishwasher.

Dad came in a few moments later, and I knew what he wanted to do. I just hoped that Isabella would agree. He gave me a short nod and left the room.

I took her hand, and we followed him into the sitting room. I led Isabella over to the couch, then walked over to the window. Dad looked at me then angled his eyes to the seat next to her which I took as a hint and slowly walked back towards her, then sat down. Her eyes didn't meet mine.

"Isabella, can you look at me, sweetheart?" Dad asked gently.

She lifted her head so slightly, just enough to meet his eyes.

"He's safe, and he's okay. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he continued in the same tone.

She nodded her head a fraction. Hope and fear sparked in her eyes.

"Do you also understand that you're now safe?"

She shook her head, and I let out a sad sigh.

"Isabella, you can stay here with us, forever if you want to. He's coming here soon as well. I know it's not easy for you, and I can't even begin to imagine what you have been through, but it's over now," I said sadly as I took her hand.

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I just had to. She flinched slightly but didn't pull her hand away.

"Isabella, this is going to seem like a bizarre question after everything you've been through, but how are you feeling?" Dad asked while he shifted his chair closer to her.

She didn't answer, just shook her head a little.

"Isabella, Dad needs to know how you're feeling so he can help," I urged gently, my thumb caressing the back of her hand. I wished she could see we were only here to help her.

"Isabella, as your doctor, I do need to examine you. It won't take long, but I need to know how healthy you are, physically." His tone was so soft like he was talking to a child and in some ways, she still was. It may have been years since she was taken, but maybe she had only aged in her body, not her mind.

Her head whipped up to him, and she started to shake it frantically as her grip on my hand tightened.

"Isabella, he's a safe person. Dad would never, ever harm you. I promise that. He only wants to check to make sure you're okay. I can stay if you'd like me to, or I can leave the room?" I offered, unsure of what her reaction would be.

I thought maybe because we had spent more time with each other over the last few days, she might trust me more than anyone else. Despite the fact that she knew Dad from many years ago.

"Isabella, sweetheart, I need to know that you're okay and that you are well, that's all. I won't do anything private; you don't have to get undressed if you're more comfortable that way," Dad stressed.

He was so worried about her; we all were. I finally saw her nod her head. Dad sighed in relief, and I continued to stroke the back of her hand.

A few minutes later we were settled in his office. Mom also came with us, stating Isabella needed a woman in the room. I knew she was desperate to calm Isabella and talk to her, but she didn't know how to.

Dad started his long list of examinations, but Isabella wouldn't let go of my hand the whole time. When he got into her personal space, she clenched her eyes shut and turned her head into my shoulder.

I wanted to wrap her up and protect her, but I couldn't. Dad needed to do this. He was finished quickly, and she soon relaxed. He thought she needed more food in her, but other than feeding her up, he thought she was fine. Physically.

Mentally, we had no idea.

Mom whisked Isabella away from the office as soon as Dad had finished, which gave us time to talk. I thought that Isabella would be hesitant to leave my dad, but she all but ran out of the room. He was so worried about her, but he didn't know how to help much more than the rest of us.

Would she talk to a professional if we offered it? I didn't think she would, I think all she needed was time. And someone to help her.

That could be me.

Carlisle has a valid point. He needs to check her over. Up next... Bella starts to talk a tiny little bit and Saturday's chapter is when you find out everything she's been through.

xxx