Hello again!!!

This chapter was actually a breeze to write! It just kept coming, so I got it done pretty quickly. I've recently discovered that if I'm extremely busy and stressed at work, my brain doesn't shut off at night, so I end up writing more.

We're going to be with Emmett this chapter! I probably won't do many more chapters from his POV, so I hope you enjoy getting to see things from his perspective :D


EmPOV

The morning briefing had dragged on for longer than normal. People were out sick, which wasn't unusual at this time of year. But combined with a couple cases of gastro, thanks to a food cart around the corner from the station, Captain Hall had to shuffle around the case assignments until people were back in the bullpen.

My last case wrapped up two days ago. Garrett and I had caught our guy, who'd broken into a middle-aged couple's home, tied them up and beat the husband, then robbed them. Turned out he was a tweaked-out addict trying to get enough for his fix. He didn't expect the couple to be home that night, though him being high as a kite probably had a lot to do with it.

Unfortunately, with my taking leave over Thanksgiving to visit Rosie's parents in Texas, I was at the bottom of the Captain's priority list to get a new case. She didn't like anyone on her squad to leave cases open for extended periods if it could be helped. It might also mean that Garrett could be partnered with someone else, who would be on call over the holiday period. It always sucked when we had to work with other detectives.

"Santos and DiAngelo, you're going to be working together today," Captain Hall said, shuffling through her pages. "Bently and Statton, you'll be caretaking Russo's cases until he's back. He said he was waiting for a warrant on one and to hear back from the family on another, so look it over and get your heads around them."

I wasn't the only one zoning out a little. It was still fairly early in the day and some were probably only thinking about their next cup of coffee.

"And that just leaves a volunteer to transfer the joyrider back home for arraignment," she continued before she paused and waited for anyone to offer their services. When no one seemed to be keen on the idea of spending an extended period with the obnoxious teen we'd picked up driving last night in a stolen sports car, the Captain's face turned stern. "Come on, guys. It's only out to Tacoma. Think of how relaxing the drive will be."

A lightbulb went off in my head at her mention of Tacoma and before I knew it, my hand was sticking up in the air. Going there could give me an opportunity to look into Bella's birth and what happened to her mother.

Why hadn't I thought about going in, boots on the ground, and digging out the truth before? It made me feel like an idiot. I was a detective, for Christ's sake!

"Swan?" asked the Captain, with a perplexed expression. "You're seriously volunteering? I thought you'd be hanging around to see if there are any walk-ins you can grab before you head out at the end of the week."

It was true that I usually didn't like reassignments. I liked being out of the beat, working cases and solving crimes, and I was one of the best detectives at the North Precinct. Hence, Captain Hall rarely had me working somewhere else.

But it was exactly the same instinct that made me one of the best here that was telling me that I needed to go to Tacoma. It was also telling me to keep that information to myself.

"Yeah, Captain," I nodded. "I think it's probably better that I don't pick up anything new, just in case they do turn out to need more time than I have before I'm out. Besides, my wife kept me up all night. The twins were keeping her awake, so I had to be awake, too," I hammed up with a yawn. It was a complete lie, but I knew Rosie wouldn't care if I fibbed about her. In this case, at least. "An easy drive there and back is probably the only thing my brain could handle this morning."

Captain Hall eyed me for a moment. "Fine," she said, her face becoming ambivalent. Then her eyes turned to Garrett. "Are you going with your partner, Turner? Or are you going to stick around and grab yourself a case?"

Garrett looked over at me with an assessing eye. I'd told him a lot about the whole Bella and her twin situation, so I'm sure he had put two and two together.

"I'll go with him," he said as he turned back to the Captain. "Someone's got to keep him out of trouble."

With a no-nonsense nod, Captain Hall shuffled her papers, ready to wrap up the briefing. "Alright. Report back when you return. Okay, people," she went on, raising her voice to the whole squadron who was cramped into the way too small room. "Let's get out there."

Everyone filed out, chattering amongst themselves. This was one of the few times that everyone on shift came together, so the station always felt like a hive of activity after briefings ended. Officers scattered in all directions as we went off on our duties.

I headed over to my desk to get any papers we would need to transfer the kid back to Tacoma when I felt Garrett following me.

"You going to tell me what's going on inside your head there, Swan?" he asked, his voice lowered so as not to draw too much attention from others in the still-crowded room.

"Sure," I replied simply, flashing him a wink.

He scowled at my monosyllabic answer. "This have anything to do with your sister?" Garrett persisted.

"And if it does?" I inquired, my eyebrow raised questioningly.

Garrett and I had been partners for a while now and we had developed a good understanding of each other in that time. We knew each other well and we always had each other's back. Now, he studied me with a perceptive eye, puzzling out what he thought my plan was.

"I hope you've got a plan," he relented, shaking his head and making me laugh. It honestly seemed like we could read each other's minds sometimes.

~oOo~

I stepped outside the Central Tacoma Police Station, heading over to our cruiser while Garrett finalised the transfer of the mouthy teen, who'd made the fifty-minute car ride feel like three hours. The kid had no respect and by the end of our time together, I was ready to pull my own hair out. Garrett had told me to step outside and chill the hell out so I didn't get myself in trouble for talking back to the little shit.

As I unlocked the passenger side door, I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Dad's number. The line rang a few times before it connected.

"Boy, I have a mind to whoop you the next time I see you," greeted the voice of the man who raised me.

"Well, hello to you too, old man," I chuckled. Even though he sounded pissed, I knew it was all a show. Underneath his gruff exterior, Charlie Swan was a kind and caring man.

"Don't you old man me," he grunted. "You got some nerve telling your sister about me and Sue going away for Thanksgiving before I could."

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me. "And you should have done it sooner. How was I supposed to know you hadn't told her already?" I pointed out.

Dad huffed. "You couldn't have just said 'Dad needs to talk to you'?"

"I could have. But you know me; as unsubtle as a bag of bricks." That's what Dad used to say about me when I would try and sneak home after high school parties. I found it especially hilarious, as he was often the one breaking up the party all the kids had run away from anyway.

"Yeah, well, your lack of discretion made me look like a shitty dad," he grumbled.

"You know, I didn't call you for a hiding," I griped back.

"What did you call for then?" Dad asked obstinately.

I took a deep breath, needing to brace myself. "I'm in Tacoma…" I began.

My father interrupted, his tone of voice doing a one-eighty. "What?! Why?"

"Prisoner transfer," I tried not to chuckle. "And I thought I'd flirt with déjà vu a little more and see if I can find out anything about Bella and her mother."

"Flirt with déjà vu?" Dad mumbled under his breath to himself, before realisation struck him. "You're going to the hospital." It wasn't a question. Just like Garrett, my father knew me extremely well.

"Correct," I said anyway. "There's got to be something there. Did you ever look into it? Go back to the hospital and try and find out what happened?"

The silence from the other end of the phone was more than enough of an answer, so I wasn't surprised when Dad finally did respond. "No, I didn't," he said matter of factly.

"Why not?" I was both confused and curious. It was so unlike my father, who was an exceptional policeman and usually left no stone unturned.

"Bree asked me not to in her letter," he replied and I could practically hear him shrug. "Without that young woman, I wouldn't have your sister. She asked me for very little in exchange for the child I'd hoped for. That girl could have asked me to name Bella Cindy-Lou Beanie-Baby and I probably would have done it."

"And what about now?" I continued to question him. "Now that you know that there was so much more to it all than just a kind young girl who was scared of her family finding out she had a baby. Now that Bella knows and there isn't anything left for you to hide. Haven't you fulfilled your promise to her mother yet?"

Dad grunted at the end of the line. "I don't expect you to get it, Emmett, but I can't betray her trust. That kid didn't seem like she trusted anyone, but she did me. She trusted me with her flesh and blood and asked me to protect it. Now, I won't stop you from looking into it, because Bella needs to know. But, it's got to be you guys who do the digging, not me."

We were both quiet as I absorbed what my father had said. While I couldn't say I understood his logic, what I did understand was that he remained a man of honor. Dad had always been an 'all in' kind of guy. When he committed to something, he was unshakable in his resolve. He had made a commitment to Bella's birth mother and to Charlie Swan, that was a vow he wouldn't break.

I sighed in resignation, knowing I had no other option but to accept the whole thing. "You got a lead I could use? Any thread I could tug on."

Dad hummed and I could hear a scratchy sound that I knew came from his stroking his moustache. "Cope," he said firmly. "C-o-p-e. That was the nurse. Cathy, or Carol, or Karen, or something like that. But I distinctly remember, her last name was Cope."

Garrett had come out the front door of the Station and walked over to the cruiser. He saw me sitting shotgun and shook his head with a smirk as he walked to the driver's side.

"Alright, Dad. I'll check it out." It was definitely a good starting point.

"And can you do me a favor, kid?"

"Sure," I replied, nodding to Garret as he slid into the car.

"Can you try to not tell your sister the stuff I said about not looking into her mother?" he said, though there were hints of warning in his voice. "Or next time I will whoop you the next time I see you. You've already made me seem like a shit enough Dad already."

I didn't mean to sound cruel, but I still chuckled. "Yes, okay. I can do that." In the scheme of things, it didn't matter because I'd do my best to uncover anything, and it might actually hurt Bella to find out.

"Thanks," he said, sounding happier. "Keep me posted?"

"Can do, Dad." We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone.

"What did the Old Cob want?" asked Garrett, a smile playing on his mouth.

"The what?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

"The Old Cob," he repeated like it meant anything to me. "A cob is a male swan, he's you're old man, hence the Old Cob." He finished, his smirk taking over his face.

I rolled my eyes at him. "How long have you been thinking of that one?"

"Way too long," Garrett laughed. "So, what did Chief Swan say?"

"He remembered the name of the nurse that helped Bell's birth mom," I told him. He didn't need to know all the ins and outs of my family's drama.

"Well, that's great. We can do a lot with just a name," he said enthusiastically. He was right. We'd solved cases with less. Maybe not thirty-year-old cold cases, but still. "So, what's the plan?" Garrett added as he started up the cruiser.

"Head to the hospital, I guess," I shrugged.

"Yeah. But, like, what's the game plan? You really think you can just walk in there and be like can I have access to your patient information, please?" he pointed out with a lousy imitated me. "We're out of our jurisdiction and don't have a warrant. Think this through, man."

He was right. I knew he was right. There was no way any law-abiding hospital administrator would allow someone to access patient records without a court order. That left me with deception. I'd been undercover before and had to bend the truth, or even outright lie, to get people to trust me. There was a subtle art to manipulating the facts in order to gain a criminal's confidence, while also staying within the parameters of the law. One wrong move, one misplaced comment, and you could put your whole case in jeopardy. I knew I could do it in this case, too. I just needed to find the right angle.

If I couldn't flash my badge, I had to make it personal. The truth was personal, but part of me doubted 'I'm trying to find a trace of my adopted sister's birth mother' would be a compelling explanation. What would be my next move if they asked me why Bella wasn't here with me? I had to sure up any doubt about the legitimacy of why I was there.

We sat in silence as Garrett drove, while I thought through the various avenues of possibility in different eventuations, the radio playing quietly in the background. It was like planning out a chess game without knowing any of the moves your opponent could play.

More time than I thought passed and before I knew it, Garrett pulled into the parking bay outside the hospital. We wouldn't be in the way too much, as there was only one other police car in the bay and three other empty spaces.

"So, how's it going to go?" Garrett asked, switching off the engine and cutting off the low hum of the music.

My plan sounded plausible in my head, but I could count on my partner to tell me if was actually dumb. "All we need is a last name, right? Then we can find Bree from there," I prefaced. "I was thinking I tell them that I'm looking for my birth mother. Leave Bella out of it so they don't question why she's not here. And if they call me out after they see the record is actually for a baby girl, I can just tell them that it was all a mistake."

"You think that's really necessary?"

"I don't want to take any chances that they turn me away and tell me to get a warrant," I explained. " And it would also cover our asses if this visit ever gets back to the Captain. She probably knows I'm adopted, or could easily find out, so I just tell her I was looking for traces of my own mom."

Garrett nodded, thinking it over. "Alright," he finally said. "How much time do you think you need?"

"I don't know, man. I guess it would depend on whether they're willing to help me and what they can share if they are."

"Alright," he said again, this time clapping his hands and reaching for his doorknob.

"Wait," I said, reaching out to stop him. "What are you doing? I think this will only work if I go in alone."

"I know, dude," Garret shook his head. "I'm going to figure out something that could stall us for that long and call the Captain. A flat tire maybe? It might have to be two, cause we have a spare. Maybe we ran over some nails on the road and it's going to take us a little time to get an extra tire."

I stared at him, realising that he had been making his own plans this entire time. "You diabolical bastard," I laughed and reached for the handle on my own door.

~oOo~

It was a lot warmer inside the hospital, making me need to undo my coat as I walked up to the reception desk. A cute, red-haired woman in her thirties was sitting behind the raised counter. Her eyes got a little wider as I approached her, a smile playing on her lips. The name on her tag read 'Debbie'.

"Good morning, Debbie," I smiled, aiming for charming. Perhaps there was a possibility I could flirt my way in. "I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of who can help me with old hospital admittance records? I'm talking decades-old records."

Debbie's smile brightened, obviously keen to assist me. Her eyes skated over my face and down my body, and when her eyes got to my broad chest, they got even wider. I knew I was physically impressive. I was a big dude with massive muscles, and that always get a reaction out of certain women.

It took me a moment after her gaze had become a lot cooler, to realize that she wasn't impressed with my defined pecs, Debbie had seen my Seattle P.D. badge hanging around my neck.

"What's this about, Officer?" she asked formally, sitting straighter in her chair.

"I'm not here on police business," I placated, holding my hands up like I was soothing a startled horse. "I'm here on a personal matter. Off the clock."

That seemed to reassure her and Debbie relaxed a little. "Okay," she said in a questioning tone, leading me to elaborate. "So, why are you here then?"

"I'm looking for information about my birth mother," I began to weave my tale. "I'm adopted, and the last place I knew she was was here, the day I was born. She wrote a letter to my adopted parents with her first name on it and I thought that if I could find any record of her last name, I might be able to find out what happened to her."

Debbie's mouth popped open in surprise and her face filled with compassion. Her hand had fluttered up to her chest, over her heart. She still hadn't said anything, however, so I added a cherry on top of my story.

"I only just found out, you see," I hammed up my heartache, comforting myself that nothing I'd said was too far from reality. "After thirty years, I finally know the truth. Unfortunately, the letter my birth mother wrote didn't give me many answers. So, now I'm searching for any information I can find."

I watched the conflict in Debbie's eyes as she tried to decide her best course of action. There were undoubtedly protocols that she was meant to follow in these circumstances, policies that stopped unlawful access to patient information. Yet I could see how much she wanted to help me.

After a moment, Debbie shifted and looked around her at the other staff at the central reception desk. There were two other attendants, all currently helping others at their stations. When she turned back to me, she nodded her head in the direction of a fourth computer, set up a little further away from the others on the circular desk.

I followed her to where she was leaning forward, closing the gap between us over the counter.

"So, you're only after a patient's last name?" Debbie asked in a lowered voice. "No patient records, just the names of patients admitted to the maternity ward thirty years ago."

My heart galloped in my chest, though from the outside I remained completely chill.

"That's right. On September twelfth, nineteen-eighty-nine. I was born on the thirteenth, but my mother was admitted on the twelfth." I felt like I was rambling and giving too much information, which was usually a tell of someone lying, so I shut up. I schooled my face to look remain placid, and a little hopeful, even though I was kicking myself on the inside.

Debbie stared fixedly at me for a long moment. Then composedly sat down at the computer and logged into the portal.

"A few years ago, all the old paper records were digitized," she said, her voice still soft. "I'm not able to access records, but a patient list is something I could explain away. The wrong date entered when looking for a patient, perhaps."

It seemed like nearly ten minutes before she looked back up at me, but it was probably no more than two. A surreal feeling had overtaken me, being so close to an answer that could unlock this whole mystery for Bella.

"There were four mothers in the maternity ward on the twelfth, and only two of those were admitted that day," Debbie said, reading over what was on the screen. "A B. Tanner and an R. Swan. Do either of those match?"

I didn't know which way to think as she read out the names. The completely unexpected fact that Renee's name appeared in the hospital records had to be filed away to think about later because I had found her.

Bree Tanner. That was the name of Bella's birth mother.

My brain kicked back into gear when I realized Debbie was now staring up at me. Hopefully, my expression came across as appropriately surprised and amazed at the revelation.

"Um…Yeah," I said, shaking off the brain fog. "Yes, there is a match. B. Tanner. In the letter, she said her name was Bree."

Debbie looked elated. "Oh, wow!" she clapped her hands together in fast and silent little taps. "She was definitely here then. Is that going to be enough to find her?"

I smiled at her appreciatively. "It will be, yeah. That's one of the perks of working for the police, I guess. I'll be able to use that to find out more about her."

The smile on Debbie's face brightened. She quickly looked back at her colleagues to see if they were still occupied, which they were. "I'm so glad I could help you," she said in a professional voice at a regular volume.

"No, thank you," I said gratefully. "I couldn't have… Your help means a lot to me."

"You're welcome," she paused, only just now realizing that I never gave her my name.

"Emmett."

"You're welcome, Emmett," she said again. "If there's anything else you need, just let me know."

I didn't want to push my luck, but if she was offering I thought I'd see if I could complete another name.

"Actually, can you confirm something for me?" I asked, leaning towards her and lowering my voice again. "In the letter, she wrote to my parents, Bree mentioned a nurse that looked after her. A Nurse Cope. Would you be able to check if they were a nurse here at that time? I know it's probably a long shot."

A spark of recognition lit up Debbie's eyes. "Carol Cope?" she asked. "She still works here in maternity. She's the nurse manager now."

I couldn't believe what I had heard. "Are you serious? Do you think she would talk to me?" I tried not to sound too desperate.

"I'd have to check if she was in today," she considered. "Give me a sec."

Debbie picked up the phone that sat beside the computer and dialed an extension. She held the handset to her face and twisted the cord around her finger. After a moment she sighed, "No answer." Though she pressed down the switch hook to hang up, Debbie immediately started punching in a different number.

"Let me try one other thing," she said, glancing up at me. Whoever she called this time actually picked up. "Hey, Trish. It's Debbie from Central Reception… Yeah, good. And you?... That's great. Would you be able to tell me if Carol is in today?... That's right… She is? Good! Do you know if she's out on the floor? I called her office but there was no answer… Okay. Do you think she will be with them long?... Alright. Well, I just have a gentleman down here who would like to speak to her. So, if I send him up, would you be able to let her know?... Okay. Thanks, Trish… Bye."

Debbie put the phone down and turned back to me with a satisfied expression. I probably had a version of that expression on my own face.

"So, Carol is just finishing talking to a patient, but she won't be long," she related. "Her office is on the fourth floor. When you get off the elevators, turn left and follow the hallway until you reach the next left turn. That will take you to the offices and you should be able to find Carol's office from there."

"Debbie, you are an absolute angel. I didn't know if I'd find anything when I came in today, but here you are, blessing me in more ways than I could imagine."

Debbie blushed and shook her head modestly. "It was my pleasure. My cousin is adopted and has talked about how much he wished he knew where he came from. He has been trying for years, but there doesn't seem to be anything for him to find. I'm glad I could give you some of the comfort he may never get."

"Well, I hope your cousin finds something eventually. Better late than nothing at all. Maybe he'll get someone looking out for him like you have for me," I said. "Seriously, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she smiled and waved at me as I headed toward the elevators Debbie had pointed out to me.

I pulled out my phone when I remembered that I should update Garrett on my ETA.

Em: Struck gold. Got her name and also found the nurse who helped her. Going up to talk to her

G: That's great. It's a damn shame these tires are going to take a little longer to fix ;)

~oOo~

I followed the directions I was given and found myself in a rather innocuous hallway, with doors on every side and no windows. All of the doors had a plaque secured to them, stating only the job title and not the occupant's name.

As I was reading each one, trying to figure out which was the right door, a throat clears behind me.

"Are you the gentleman sent up to talk to me?" asked the kindly-looking woman, possibly in her fifties. She smiled when I spun around, obviously startled. "If this is about the insurance dispute, I'm very sorry, but I was told I couldn't speak to anyone without the hospital's lawyer."

"Uh… no. My name is Emmett Swan and I was wondering if I could ask you about a case you worked on thirty years ago?" I sounded like a cop, even when I didn't mean to.

"Are you with the police?" The woman, who I'd ascertained was Carol Cope, shifted uncertainly on her feet.

"Um…" I deliberated. I wanted the truth from this woman, and in my experience people usually didn't give that willingly unless they trusted you. Trust came from honesty and a woman who had worked in a hospital as long as she had would be able to see bullshit a mile away. "Technically, yes. But I'm here on a private matter, on behalf of my sister."

Carol raised an eyebrow at me. "Your sister?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Her name is Isabella Swan. She's adopted. You were actually the nurse who looked after her birth mother. Bree Tanner." It was best to just throw my dice and see where they landed.

The color drained from Carol's face. She definitely remembered.

"Let's go in my office," she said as she stepped around me and went to open the second door on the right.

I followed Carol in, watching her as she rounded her desk, dumped the folder in her arms on the edge and sat in her chair with her head in her hands. She didn't say anything and neither did I, simply taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair opposite her.

The office itself was fairly bland. Grey walls, one window, two filing cabinets piled with stacks of manila folders, and a low bookcase filled with books that looked like medical journals. There were a couple of photos sitting on top of the bookcase; a slightly younger Carol with her teenage children, as well as a couple of a little girl, who I assumed was her grandchild.

When she finally looked up at me, there was a mix of fear and resignation in her eyes.

"You said your name is Swan?" Carol asked in an unsteady voice. "Your father would be the police officer, then?"

"That's right," I nodded.

Her brow furrowed. "How did any of this come out? Your father promised to never say anything to anyone."

"That's a very long story," I replied, not knowing where to start. It all seemed too complex to explain. "It was a random encounter that took everyone by surprise. But, suffice to say, my father didn't break his promise without duress."

Carol didn't say anything, just looked at me with intense eyes and wrung her hands.

"You did help Bree split the twins up, then?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

The silence stretched on for another moment before Carol nodded her head rigidly. "Yes, I did," she said with a sigh as if admitting it had lifted a weight she'd beard for years. "I still think about it, all these years later. There are so many things I regret."

"Like what?" I asked, trying not to sound too judgemental. "Like separating two children and covering all traces of it?" The words still had an edge to them, though.

Carol frowned. "I know it was wrong in many ways. But, believe it or not, that is not what I regret most." I must have looked sceptical. "That girl was scared to death, desperate to make sure her children were safe from people she thought would never let her, or them, go," she defended herself. "I regret not doing more for Bree before she went off with nothing to her name, never seeing or hearing from her again."

We stared at each other intently as what Carol said sunk in. It seemed more and more likely that my theory was correct. 'People who would never let her go' sure did sound like human traffickers to me. If she disappeared after she left the hospital, maybe she had been found by whoever was after her.

"Why did you do it?" I questioned after a long moment. It's what it all boiled down to. If anyone possibly knew why Bree went through with it, it was most likely the woman who helped her.

Taking a deep breath in and blowing it out through her nose, Carol regarded me with keen eyes. "You're a cop, right young man?"

"Yes," I nodded. "A detective."

"Haven't you ever met someone on a case that you desperately wanted to help, but knew that doing so may step outside what is strictly legal? They break your heart and you want to do everything in your power for them. Bree wasn't my first and she wasn't my last, but she was the only one who I actually did help in the way my gut told me to."

I knew what she meant. Last year, Garrett and I arrested a teen who had held up a convenience store. The kid was homeless and starving, having been kicked out of his parent's house, and when he found a gun in a dumpster while he was looking for food, his desperation took over. Unfortunately, the gun had been used in a home invasion earlier that week, where two people had been shot, and the only prints on the piece were now the boys. I'd seriously thought about smudging his prints or making a bureaucratic mistake that would end up with the kid's case being thrown out, but at the end of the day, I knew I couldn't do it. It could have been so much worse for the kid, but thankfully the real burglars were caught with the stolen property and the charges for the shooting were dropped from his case.

That still did little to expunge the horribly guilty feeling I had whenever I thought about him though. Was it really that boy's fault if he became so desperate he turned to theft if no one had stepped in to help him before it got to that? He may have been fifteen, but he was still a child. His parents had failed him, the people around him had failed him, and then we were failing him. He was barely given a chance in life before the world knocked him down

Carol didn't notice I was lost in my own thoughts, lost just as much in her own.

"When your father brought Bree in, she was so scared," Carol continued, a far-off look in her eyes. "She was in so much pain at that point, she thought she was going to lose her baby. When we got her set up upstairs, we actually discovered she was having twins and she started to freak out so much we had to sedate her.

"I was the one in her room when she woke up. At first, I thought she was just scared at the idea of having two babies. She was so small herself, the idea of two little people coming out of her must have been frightening. But she started rambling that if 'they' found out there were two, they would drag her back. I asked how she didn't know she was having twins - surely a scan would have detected the presence of a second heartbeat. But she told me she'd never had one, that her family didn't believe in hospitals or modern medicine. That was the first red flag that went off in my head."

There were so many questions running around my head already, but I didn't want to interrupt. It seemed like Carol was on a roll and stopping her now wouldn't get me the truth any faster.

"I spent as much time as I could in with her over the night, trying to give her some maternal comfort. She was alone, barely sixteen, and facing one of the hardest things a woman ever has to go through. When the two little girls were born, Bree wouldn't even look at them. She cried so hard we had to sedate her again. The sight of it broke my heart.

"She came to right before my shift ended." Carol's voice had become more strained, as if she were holding back tears. We must be getting to the core of the secret. "I went into her room to check on her and found her awake, laying on her side, with constant tears running down her face. That's when she opened up and told me everything.

"Her mother had married a man a few years earlier who was very religious. After the wedding, they moved and joined a new church that she said was full of 'whack-jobs'. It was a man from the church, a friend of her step-fathers, that forced himself on her. She said he did it more than once." Carol stopped and took a shuddering breath. Even I felt the need to clear my throat to clear the tightness there.

"Bree told her mother after she found out she was pregnant and couldn't hide it anymore, but she told her husband. Instead of doing anything about it, Bree's stepfather arranged for her to marry the man who attacked her after the baby had been born. They forbid her from leaving the house, so no one else would see that she was pregnant. It sounded like they locked her in the house, and were going to keep her there even when she went into labour. She said that her stepfather believed that God was the only guide a woman needed and that doctors were quacks."

Carol rolled her eyes at that, while my mind ran through the different possible religions that didn't believe in medical intervention. Perhaps they were Jehovah's Witnesses. There were also simply an extreme number of idiots and zealots out there in the world that weaponized faith to control women's bodies.

"She ran away one day when the family were all at church, stealing some money and jewelry from her parents, then got on the first bus she came across. She told me later that after days of getting on and off different busses, she found herself in Burns, Oregon, sleeping in the library. It was there that she thought about putting her child up for adoption and she asked the librarian for phone books for Seattle and Washington to find an agency. Her plan was to keep going North. She found an agency, then set out for Seattle. Of course, we know she didn't make it there in time."

Many of the questions I started out with had been answered, but there were still a few that niggled at my determined curiosity.

"Okay. So, I understand why she would want to put her babies up for adoption," I said, sounding a little confused. "But I still don't get why they were separated in the way you did."

Carol released a deep sigh. "Bree was absolutely terrified that her family would find her and the babies. And she was convinced that if they ever found out she had been pregnant with twins when she ran away, they would probably kill her."

As someone expecting twins of their own, I could never imagine splitting them up. They were inextricably linked before they were even born and will be closer than other people and their siblings. But there were many situations in life that I could never truly understand, and one of those was being a frightened teenage girl, desperate after being sexually assaulted by a depraved man, then practically sold back to him as his wife.

I could feel the bile rising up from my stomach as I thought it all through again, but I had to get myself under control. There was still much I wanted to know from the woman who could have been the last person to see Bella's birth mother alive.

"So how did the plan work?" I asked.

"I'd told her that the adoption would protect the girls, give them new lives with a new family. I don't know why I said it, but I mentioned something about adopting them to two different families if she was really so concerned they might be found. That seemed to spark something in her, saying they'd be harder to find if they were separated. She then told me that she wanted the police officer that helped her to get one of the babies.

"When I told her that the adoption agency would most likely only adopt to the people who were paying them, she became more determined, saying that she would take one of them and leave her at his house for him if she needed to. I explained to her that any child left with a police officer would be deemed abandoned and turned over to the state, and there was no guarantee that the officer would be granted approval to foster or adopt the child. Watching her break down after that, I knew I had to help her."

"We contacted the adoption agency as if nothing unusual had happened. As far as they were concerned, there was one baby born and up for adoption. Then I…" Carol hesitated. This was obviously the part that, as she put it, stepped outside what was strictly legal.

"You falsified hospital records?" I surmised.

She looked a little wary but nodded. "Bree remembered your mother's name, so I made a record under it and used the details of the second baby to fill it in."

It disturbed me to hear Renee described as my mother, but I didn't let it show.

"Then you contacted my father and told him Bree had left the baby she gave birth to for him." We'd caught up to where Dad's story took off.

"Yes," said Carol. "I told him Bree had left the hospital, leaving her baby and a note addressed to him. But she was still there. I went back to her room after your father left and held her while she cried."

This confession was the first to truly shock me. Everything else had been surprising, but I had been expecting a sordid backstory. This was the first clue to what happened after the twins were parted.

"When did Bree leave the hospital?"

Again, Carol hesitated. "Two days later… with me," she confessed.

Another shock. "With you?" I pressed.

"Yes," she nodded. "The adoption agency took care of all the hospital expenses, so she was free to leave. But she was still recovering and didn't have anywhere to go."

Carol had said that her biggest regret was letting Bree go and never seeing her again, but I had assumed that meant when Bree left the hospital after setting up the separate adoptions. "So she went home with you? How long did she stay?"

"Only three nights," she lamented. "I wanted her to stay with me, but she was so paranoid that her family was after her." Carol hung her head with a shake. "She insisted that she was going to go to Canada. But when I refused to help her run away again, trying to convince her to stay with me, she just yelled that she would leave and get to the border herself if she needed to. In the end, I didn't want her to freeze or starve, so I made her a bag with as many warm clothes as I could and added some food. I took her to the bus station and bought her a ticket to Vancouver. She told me that she was going to be okay and thanked me for helping her. I gave her some money, about eighty dollars. We hugged and Bree got on the bus. That was the last time I saw her." A tear slipped down Carol's face.

Silence fell between us as the story came to an end. Finally, the mystery of what happened the night Bella and her sister were born had been answered. And yet, there was still so much unknown. We still had no idea what happened to their birth mother, or where she was now.

I hoped I'd be able to find something about who she was now back at the station. If she had successfully made her way into Canada, then who knew where the trail could lead, or end. With any luck, though, I might strike gold and find something about her life before she ended up in Washington. Perhaps if I could find out where she came from, we could see if Bella has any relatives. There was also a part of me that wanted to track down the pedophile that hurt Bree.

"Thank you, Carol," I said sincerely, clearing my throat. "You don't know how much this will mean to my sister."

"I think a part of me has needed to share it with someone for years," she said, relieved. "I told my husband, but I've never said anything to anyone else."

I chuckled softly. "That sounds like my dad. I swear, he was cut out to be a secret agent."

"Can I ask you something?" Carol asked, waiting for me to nod my head before she continued. "What's your sister like? Has she had a good life?"

Many things in Bella's life were probably best left unsaid. I'm sure it would not be comforting to know about Bella's adopted mother's early abandonment or her recent losses. This woman had carried regrets over her actions for thirty years. Those were the types of things that might break her heart.

"We had a great childhood," I reassured her. "Bella never wanted for anything. Dad made sure of it. She's a teacher now, teaching English in a high school in Seattle." I didn't really know what else to say after that, though.

Carol absorbed the information anyway, a smile playing on her lips. "And the other one, her sister?"

I tried to think of all the things I knew about Maria, without adding the fairly large caveat of her being dead. "Her name's Maria. As far as I'm concerned, her childhood sounded pretty idyllic. She became a lawyer, just like her father. She got married in 2011 to a man named Edward, who is a great guy."

Hearing this made her smile widen and Carol seemed to relax, as if everything she'd done back then was worth it. "When you tell them, please let them know that I only did what I thought was right at the time. And that they are in my prayers every year on their birthday."

"I'll pass the message along," I promised, feeling a little guilty that it would only be received by one.

"Thank you," she smiled gently, shaking my hand as we both stood.

I quickly said goodbye and made my way out of Carol's office in a daze.

~oOo~

Garrett and I ran through all the information on the ride back to our station. Talking it through helped lay out a timeline for everything we now knew happened before and after that fateful day in September.

After checking in with the Captain on our return, we found out no new cases had come in we could work on and were handed a stack of paperwork to get through. We set ourselves up at our neighboring desks and brought up the database.

I wasn't prepared for what I found when I searched Bree Tanner's name.

Once I narrowed the list of Bree Tanners down, using the year she would have been born, I found multiple entries. More than I would have expected.

I could feel the color drain from my face as I read through the reports from both Washington State Police and Idaho County Sheriffs when a particular seal on a case file drew my eye.

"You still got that buddy in the FBI?" I asked Garrett, who had been reading over my shoulder, in a hushed voice.

"Liam? I'll give him a call," he said and pulled out his phone. "What are you going to tell Bella?"

As much as I would like to hide the truth from my sister, knowing that it would probably hurt her, I knew keeping any of it from her would only end up hurting her more. As painful as it would be, Bella deserved to have all her questions answered.

"I'll tell her everything after we have all the facts," I told him resolutely. Then I turned back to my computer to pour over the evidence that laid out the life of Bree Tanner.


And there you have it, most of the truth is out! I won't make anyone wait too long to find out what Emmett discovered. He's going to call a family meeting, but I was wondering if there was a preference of who's POV I use during that meeting - Bella or Edward?

Please leave a review. I love hearing what you all think!

Till next time, Lovelies!!