Hello, all! I won't talk much. I'll just let you get on with the chapter! ;)

Fran, thank you for beta'ing. Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you for pre-reading. I appreciate your help and support so much! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)

SM owns everything Twilight.

I'm dead.

Well, this sucks.

Darkness surrounds me, stretching on for eons, with no end in sight. With the way books and movies describe death, it's some wonderful, weightless place where you're happy and feel free. In all honesty, I feel none of those things. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wonder if there's someone I can sue or haunt for lying to me.

I'm a pretty good person … most of the time. I think I deserve one cloud, an angel … or a weightless, numb feeling. Yeah, feeling no pain would be great right about now.

Vaguely, I hear something muffled and far away. I concentrate harder, hearing my name spoken in a voice that's frantic and filled with fear.

It sounds like ... Jasper?

Did Edward kill him too? If he did, I'm going to haunt his murdering ass.

My head throbs in time with my thrumming heart, threatening to burst from my chest. I bring my arms up to cover my ears, but they fall onto the unforgiving surface, flopping like fish. My knuckles smash against the hardness, my fingers twitching in pain with each descent.

Tiny bits of clarity and awareness enter my brain gradually, but I'm still majorly confused as to what happened tonight.

I clearly remember Edward's furious face as he rushed toward me and snapped me in half like a twig. I shouldn't be feeling pain if I'm dead. I'm pretty sure that's the one thing you don't feel when you're a ghost. So what's going on here?

Am I not dead?

Light slapping on my cheeks as well as Jasper's repeated calling of my name helps the fogginess fade, and I cling to it, grasping and pulling at the sensations until I feel more alert and open my eyes.

A blurry face is in my direct line of sight, too close, and still patting my cheeks with more force than necessary. Once more, my mind flashes to Edward's angry face, and my heart pounds faster, accelerating the throbbing in my head. With more strength than I think I had, I push the person away and scramble backward, my sweaty palms slipping against the cool, slick floor.

My arms flail outward, my elbows hitting the laminate floor with a resounding thud that makes my teeth audibly click together. The figure in front of me moves closer, reaching out and I shove my hands forward and shuffle backward again before hitting the wall, hissing between my teeth.

"What the hell, Bella?"

I rapidly blink, trying to see through the darkness.

Jasper sits back, a scowl on his face as he rubs his chest.

"You punched me," he complains. "Why in the blue hell would you punch me?"

"Why the hell is hell blue?" I mumble before addressing his previous complaint. "And what did you expect? You were in my face, and I was disoriented." I rub the back of my head, hissing as I hit a sore spot. "What happened?"

"I was going to ask you that," he mutters, still rubbing his chest. "You made enough noise to wake a bear, and you were flopping around on the floor like a fish. What happened?"

I take a moment to think about it, ignoring what didn't happen. I had filled my water bottle and heard a strange noise. I turned and saw—

I saw him!

I know I saw Edward Cullen standing in front of me … or was it outside? He did seem a little blurry, so I'm going to guess he was outside.

That's what startled me. I hadn't expected to see someone looking into the window. It's something that creeps me out, both in movies and in real life.

The sound of thundering footsteps echoes throughout the house, and in a second, Jasper and I are surrounded.

"What is going on?" Dad snaps. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" It takes a minute for my father's sleepy brain to process what he's seeing. When it clicks that Jasper and I are on the floor, he kneels down beside us. "What happened?"

My mother kneels next to him, her hair in two intricate braids hanging down her back. A disheveled Rose stands behind her, looking very displeased, but that changes in an instant when she sees me on the floor, holding my head. She kneels, gently pushing my head forward and softly running her fingers over the back of my skull, quietly asking me questions. I answer as best I can, but it's difficult due to Jasper's complaining.

"I don't know. I was in bed, and I heard a loud noise. When I came out and looked, I found her lying on the floor. I went to wake her, and she punched me!" Jasper complains.

"There's no bump and no blood," Rose murmurs, completely ignoring her brother. Gently, she pushes me back, so I'm leaning against the wall and helps me adjust, so I'm sitting more comfortably. "Are you okay?"

I nod as Dad chuckles proudly. "Well, at least we know there's nothing wrong with your reflexes, Bella."

Mom hits his shoulder lightly, keeping her attention on us. "What happened?"

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I saw Edward. I think he was looking in the window."

Immediately, dad is on his feet. He snatches the flashlight from the floor and grabs something from the shelf above my head, mumbling under his breath.

"Are you sure?" Rose questions, skeptical. "Perhaps your eyes are playing tricks on you."

I shrug because honestly, I'm not sure what I saw was real. I mean, if it were, I'd be dead right now. There's no way I could survive having my back snapped. No way in hell.

At the same time, my reflection doesn't look like a messy-haired, angst-ridden boy.

"I don't know. Maybe I didn't see him, but I saw someone."

"Great, and I sleep down here alone," Jasper mumbles, but I hear him loud and clear. "I'll be killed first. You're welcome."

Rolling my eyes, I turn to Rose, who shakes her head in disapproval.

"Why would he be here, looking in our windows?" She trails off with a sigh. "I told you, you watch too many horror movies. It's messed with your head."

"Knock it off, Rosalie," Jasper barks.

She starts to refute, but this time my father breaks it up. "Enough. Sit down on the floor."

Without a second thought, Rose wraps an arm around me, grasping Mom's hand tightly, who has put an arm around Jasper. I have to admit, I'm in awe of the way everyone just does what he says so quickly.

It has to be the scary Chief of Police voice. I have to master that.

"You all stay right here. I mean it. Do not move, do not speak, and do not make a sound until I get back. If you hear something unusual, Renee, take the kids, barricade yourselves in Jasper's room and call for backup. Understood?"

We all nod, knowing he's taking this seriously, so we must do the same. He nods once and goes out the back door, closing it with a firm hand. The beam from the flashlight dances around before disappearing and then illuminating the front windows. The four of us sit in silence, daring not to breathe, let alone move.

Everything can be heard clearly; the crunching of leaves underneath Dad's feet; the wind howling through the trees; the dog barking from next door; the faint sound of cicadas and crickets from the woods, providing an eerie background sound, perfect for this situation.

Nearly ten minutes later, Dad comes back inside, replacing the items he took and jerking his head toward the kitchen.

Rose and Jasper slip a hand around my upper arm and hoist me up. We all obediently follow, still silent. Dad sits in his usual chair, Mom standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders. Rose, Jasper and I take a seat and look toward Dad.

"I didn't find much outside, just some disturbance in the mud, but that could have been animal. If it was a person, well, there are plenty of places to hide in the woods."

Mom gasps, and the only sign Dad gives that he hears her is a pat on her hand.

"Now, Bella, tell me what happened. What do you remember?" Dad asks, looking at me.

"I saw someone standing in front of the window, looking in."

"You said earlier you thought it was Edward."

I sigh, slouching down in the chair. To be honest, I could have sworn I did see Edward. I may be crazy, but I'm not ready for a straitjacket yet. Obviously, I know he didn't attack me, but my gut is telling me I did see him. But how do I say that without sounding crazy?

I guess I don't. Not right now, anyway. Not until I get the answers myself.

"I also thought I broke my back, so I'm not a reliable source. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought."

Dad hums, lost in thought as Rose turns, looking at me, a worried expression still on her face. My mother rushes to my other side, her hands outstretched over me, like she wants to comfort me, but is afraid to. To ease her worry, I take her hand, and she squeezes it tightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of my head.

"Did you lose consciousness for very long?" Rose questions, ready to jump up if need be.

I shrug in response to her question, because I'm not sure, but Jasper answers for me.

"She wasn't out for long. I came out here pretty fast; maybe twenty seconds?"

"Okay. Any dizziness? Nausea? Headache? Aside from you hitting your head?"

I don't even bat an eyelash at her rapid-fire questions. Rose is a walking book on injuries and how to fix them. Dad is staring at me intently, waiting for my answer, which I quickly give.

"No."

Dad blows out a relieved breath, sinking down a little in his chair. "Good. That's good."

Rose looks between Dad and me her eyebrows drawn together and her lips in a frown. "Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?"

"No," I answer firmly. "I'm fine. Honestly."

Mom makes a noise of disapproval, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe we should, just in case. Better safe than sorry."

Rose and Jasper nod in approval, I fiercely disagree.

"No. I'm fine."

Mom doesn't look convinced, but a resigned look comes over her at seeing my resolve. A second later, she brightens up and heads to the phone. "I can call Carlisle! I'm sure he'll make a house call."

Vaguely, I hear Rose murmur her agreement, but it's lost underneath the harsh scraping of the chair legs against the floor as I jump up, shaking my head. "Mom, no. That's not necessary."

"Well, you're going to the doctor tomorrow then. End of discussion ... and you're taking this," she says, handing me a couple of painkillers and some water.

I down them quickly, and immediately begin my argument. "Mom, I don't need to go. I'm fi—"

"Bella, it's a good idea to go, just in case," Jasper interrupts.

I start to dispute his words, but Dad cuts me off.

"Bella, enough; you're going. Renee," Dad holds an arm out to her, and she comes to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Stop arguing; you need to go. You're so stubborn, it's bordering on foolish," Rose mutters. I glare at her, and she gazes at me impassively before leaning toward me as Mom and Dad quietly talk to one another.

"I won't apologize for being concerned about you. Either of you," she whispers, looking between Jasper and me. "You were hurt. You need to see someone."

"I'm fine," I whisper back. "You worry too much."

"That's true," Jasper agrees. Before I can gloat, he speaks again. "But you do need a doctor. I've been saying this for years," he jokes.

Narrowing my eyes, I start to tell him where he should shove his jokes when Mom's fearful tone distracts me.

"Charlie, do you know who it could have been? Who in their right mind would try to break into our house? You're the Chief of Police for crying out loud."

We all sit in silence, watching Dad as he thinks.

"It might—"

"Do you think it was Royce?" Rose asks, interrupting Dad. Her eyes dart around the room, and her hands go to her tank top, pulling it up higher on her chest. Her shoulders slump inward, and her head ducks slightly lower, looking at us through her lashes.

It wouldn't be surprising if it were him, considering he did stalk her and stand in the woods outside of our house before, but I know it wasn't him.

When she speaks again, there's a slight tremble in her voice. "He's promised revenge toward Bella and me for quite some time, and Bella had an altercation with him recently. He was kind of provoked."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I question, sitting up straighter in my chair. "If it had been him, would it have been my fault because I don't take his shit?"

"What? No, of course not!" She looks aghast at the suggestion, but I don't back down.

"Really? Because that's what it sounded like. I didn't start any of the fights with him. He initiated it all. All I did was stand up to him. I'm not going to roll over and let him attack me."

She reaches out and squeezes my arm. I look into her eyes and see nothing but sincerity as she looks back at me. "Bella, no, I didn't mean that."

"But you said it." I hate the way I sound; to my ears, I sound whiny and childish, but I can't help it. I can take a lot of shit from many people, Rose included, but being told I'm responsible for Royce's retaliation kind of pushes my limit. Especially tonight.

If I'm being honest, sure, I can be calmer when dealing with him. I can walk away and pretend what he says and does doesn't affect me, but it won't work. I know from firsthand experience how much he hates to be ignored and then he gets angrier than ever. In my opinion, it's better to stop it before it gets to a point where he tries to beat the shit out of you and take advantage of the unconscious state you're in.

While I know it's not good for me to antagonize him because of his anger issues, I also won't stand by and let him touch me without my permission. Since he doesn't understand the word "no," I make sure he gets the message another way.

Rose makes a frustrated noise from the back of her throat, her eyes darting over my face frantically and the grip she has on my arm tightens to an uncomfortable level. "I didn't mean it! I just meant that he's the number one suspect for breaking in here. He's had it out for us for a long time, plus you did punch him recently. If he had broken in, I wouldn't blame you for his actions. Just give me a break, all right? It's late, and I'm tired and you know I would never blame you for anything, Bella. Never."

I nod. I don't doubt her words; one of the admirable things about Rose is she believes everyone is responsible for their own actions. Placing blame on someone else for what another person did isn't her style, especially in this circumstance.

"Can I continue now?" Dad asks, dragging a hand down his weary face. Once he sees he has our attention, he speaks. "It was probably Waylon."

"Waylon?" we all repeat in sync, bewildered.

Why on earth would he, of all people in Forks, be standing outside of our house? He's too drunk most of the time to walk one foot, let alone the six blocks from the bar to here.

"Why do you think it's him?" Jasper questions.

"It wouldn't be the first time. His drinking has gotten severely out of control, and his behavior is getting more brazen and violent. He's been arrested for breaking and entering, theft and resisting arrest. No one wants to press charges because we all grew up with him." He sighs heavily, shaking his head with a deep frown. The struggle of his wayward childhood friend is obvious on his face; from the worry swimming in his eyes to the deep-set of his frown.

I don't know what happened to cause Waylon to drink so much, but all of my memories are of him being wasted. I remember asking Dad about it at one point, but he never gave me a concrete answer. All he said was that Waylon lost his way.

When I was younger, I didn't know what it meant, but now, I think I might have an idea. On the rare occasion I see Waylon staggering around Forks, I saw a wedding ring on his finger, but can't ever recall hearing anything about his wife.

"Now, it could have been someone else, and I'll do some investigating tomorrow and take care of it," Dad says, breaking into my thoughts. "I'm also going to put a new security system in, and we all have to make sure every door and every window is shut and locked each night, understood?"

We answer affirmatively, which pleases him.

"Good. I know some of you like to sleep with the window open and I'll come up with an alternative solution for that, but right now, until I find out who it was, keep 'em closed. Also, no going near the doors or windows after I've locked them. In other words, a curfew has been put into effect for this house starting now. No leaving after ten."

We answer affirmatively again, and Dad rises from his chair, taking Mom's hand.

"All right. For the rest of the night, I'll be on the couch, so no one startle me. Mostly, because you'll scare me and I'll be armed. Cops don't do well in prison."

"Why are you telling this to us?" Jasper asks, pointing between himself and Rose. "Bella is the scariest one here."

Dad shakes a finger at Jasper. "Now, now. You're all terrors. Sometimes I think I need holy water to deal with you all. I've honestly been too scared to try it. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

We laugh as my mom looks on with disapproval. "Charlie, don't joke about things like that."

"What? You know I love our kids. I would rather die than have anything happen to them, especially by my own hand. Besides, if now isn't a good time to joke, then when is?"

She fights a smile, kissing his cheek before Dad bids us goodnight and shuffles into the living room. Mom kisses our heads and quietly tells us we can come get her if we need her before ordering us to get some sleep and going to bed herself.

"Bella, I'm going to sit with you and wake you every hour, just in case, okay?"

"No," I immediately answer, balking at Rose's suggestion. I won't be able to get any rest with someone in the room watching me. That's just too creepy, even for me. "I mean, no thanks. I'll be fine."

"I don't think we should risk it."

"Look, I'm fine, okay? The pain is starting to go away, and I wasn't out for very long. I'm fine. I probably didn't even hit my head that hard anyway."

There's a pensive look on her face I don't like, especially when she agrees and backs off on the idea. "All right. I'll see you in the morning. If either one of you need me, you know where I am."

Before following after her, I turn to Jasper who is about to depart into his room. "Sorry for punching you, you big baby."

He laughs, waving me off. "It's okay. I should know better, huh?"

"Yep." He really should. He knows I have a fight reflex.

The humor in his face fades, concern replacing it. "Are you okay, though? For real?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Goodnight."

"Hey, Bella?"

I pause in the middle of the stairs, waiting for him to speak.

"Did you really—"

"What?" I inquire when he stops with a heavy sigh.

He scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head, trailing off in a harsh laugh. "Nothing. It's … nothing. I need more sleep."

"So do I! Go to bed," Dad calls from the living room before I can say anything.

Jasper and I laugh, murmuring our goodnights as we head to our rooms.

Through my closed door, I hear the muffled sound of a dog barking like mad. Curious and wondering why the hell the neighbor's dog is barking so wildly, I step inside, heading toward the partially open window.

Scanning the yard below, I immediately spot the Stephens' brown and black bulldog, Daisy, at the edge of the chain-link fence. Her body poised straight like an arrow as she growls and furiously barks at the tree line a few feet away.

At first, I think she must be barking at another animal, but with the vicious and angry sounds she's making, it leads me to believe it's something or someone else.

I kneel down on my knees, trying to peer through the dark trees and faint yellow light of the porch light, but it's too difficult. The best I can make out is the entrance to the forest; small trees and worn bushes stand stiffly, guarding what lies behind them.

"Come on, come out," I mumble, squinting into the darkness.

As soon as the words leave my lips, Daisy quiets, her head tilting to the side for a moment. She releases one last combination of a huffing bark and growl before turning and trotting back to the house. I can only hope she slipped through the doggy door and went back inside, where it's safe.

I remain where I am, still looking at the trees.

Who or what could have been out there? Edward? Waylon?

My gut is telling me it's Edward, but my mind isn't so sure.

I suppose the only thing I can do is ask him flat out and see what he says. I'm sure I won't get a truthful answer, but I can tell when someone is lying and Edward will be no different.

8*8*8*8*8*8

In the morning, I oversleep by fifteen minutes, thanks to Rose and Mom waking me every hour. I'm pretty sure the pair of them camped outside of my room, their cell phones set to go off at the appropriate times.

Mom was the first to back off at hour two, but Rose didn't; she ignored my grouchiness and the colorful words I sent her way and declared me fine every time she woke me.

I mean, I'm thankful I'm not in a coma or something, but I'm completely exhausted and highly irritable.

Scrambling to get dressed, I rush through my morning routine and stumble down the stairs, seeing Rose and Jasper just about to leave.

"Thanks for waiting," I mutter, reaching to snatch a banana off the table, only to pause when Mom lays her hand on mine.

"You're not going to school today, sweetie."

My mouth drops open for a moment; this is my dream. A day off so early in the school year? It's hardly ever happened unless I've been deathly ill, and even that's very rare.

I want to agree and go back upstairs to catch up on my missed sleep, but if I do that, then I won't get any answers from Edward.

Reluctantly, I sigh and shake my head. "Sorry, I have to."

"I mean," Mom clarifies. "You're not going. You're going to stay home, go to the doctor for a checkup and afterward you're going to rest. This isn't a suggestion."

Before she's done speaking, I'm shaking my head. "No, I'm fine! You and Rose woke me up every hour, and I'm fine."

"I know we did, but I would feel more comfortable if you were looked at. We all would," she replies, waving a hand to the duo standing behind me.

Turning, I narrow my eyes at Rose, knowing she was behind this.

She smiles in satisfaction, confirming my thoughts. Despite her happiness about the situation, there's worry swimming in her eyes. "Just get checked out for our sakes, okay? Besides, I think it's needed. You never want to go to school."

Jasper nods in agreement. "Really. I thought you'd be back upstairs by now," he says suspiciously.

I clear my throat, trying to come up with an answer. How can I tell them the real reason I want to go is to interrogate Edward about last night? I need to know, for my sanity's sake.

"I have a project due soon, and I want to get it done."

"There will plenty of time for that later. I'm sure you got a lot done yesterday," Mom interrupts, stepping in front of Rose and Jasper. "You two get going, or you're going to be late."

Rose nods. "Text me after her appointment."

Mom murmurs her agreement, and I wave goodbye to my cousins, sitting at the table heavily. I suppose waiting one more day won't hurt.

Seconds later, Mom comes breezing back into the room, quickly clearing the table and setting down a bowl of oatmeal and fruit in front of me.

"Eat up. You have an appointment at nine."

"If it turns out I'm okay, can you drop me off at school?"

Mom smirks over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes twinkling with humor. "We'll see. Eat."

I grumble under my breath, not looking forward to seeing Dr. Gerandy. The man is nice, but you can hardly understand him when he speaks, and his examinations are more than a little rough.

To add to it, if you wince while he's prodding you, he asks, "Oh, did that hurt?"

No. It's just a facial tick I have when someone jams their fingers in the side of my neck.

"Where's Dad?" I question, noting his place at the table is clear of dishes.

Mom gives me a thin smile before looking down into her almond-colored coffee cradled between her hands. "He was called in early this morning. A friend of his from Port Angeles needed help."

Her words cause a familiar sinking feeling in my gut. The bulletin board in the Port Angeles café flashes into the forefront of my mind, filled with the faces of missing people.

Has someone else gone missing?

The thought has me sitting back, swallowing through the thickness in my throat. I can barely force down the food in front of me. It's only Mom's pleading that gets me to choke it down.

Shortly after breakfast is finished, I help Mom gather the laundry, and toss it all in the laundry room before heading out for my appointment.

In the waiting room of the doctor's office, I sit back in the armchair, shifting as the wooden beam underneath the worn cushion pokes me uncomfortably.

The office is surprisingly sparse, with only one other person who came in as we did. Hopefully, I'll be able to get out of here soon and get the go-ahead to return to school.

I need my answers.

Mom shifts next to me, wincing with a scowl. "I think these are the same chairs that were here when I was in high school."

I laugh, and before long, my name is called. I follow the nurse toward one of the exam rooms, quickly going through the usual pre-exam routine and telling her why I'm here today. She nods with a serious look on her face, asking additional questions and writing it down in my chart.

When she's done, she closes my file with a flick of her wrist and smiles. When she looks at me head-on, I notice her eyes are red and puffy, with streaks of faded makeup still on her cheeks.

"The doctor will be in shortly."

With a nod and sigh, I glance over at Mom. She's staring at the door with her eyebrows drawn together, the corner of her lip in between her teeth.

Sensing my stare, she releases her lip and sits forward, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "I was thinking, why don't we have a movie day, huh? We'll eat junk food and lounge around. Sound fun?"

In all honesty, it does sound like fun. It's been too long since we've had a mother-daughter day, but my curiosity and thirst for answers seems to be winning out. I'm startled by the thought, wondering if I do have a concussion after all.

Before I can reply, a solid knock sounds from the other side of the door. A second later, Dr. Gerandy steps in, and I refrain from sighing heavily, as he jumps into the examination.

Thirty minutes later, I'm declared perfectly fine, though I'm sure I have some bruises thanks to Dr. Gerandy's bony fingers. While Mom speaks with the receptionist, I quickly text Rose the results. I'm sure she'll check it during lunch, but by then, I can tell her myself. To my surprise, she replies within moments.

Good, I'm glad. Are you staying home? I'll bring your homework. ~R

Mom is back before I can reply, asking if I'm ready to go. I nod, following her out of the small office. As we step into the main area of the hospital, I spot Dr. C on the far side of the hallway, talking with Edward.

The expression on Carlisle's face is pained as he speaks with his son, his eyes filled with sadness and pleading. Edward runs a hand through his hair and grimaces at what he's being told, lightly flinching before casting his gaze down to the floor.

Carlisle continues to speak, laying a hand on his son's shoulder and bending slightly so he can look him in the eye. Edward lifts his head, listening intently as Carlisle pokes at his own chest, where his heart rests. Carlisle shakes his head at Edward's response, gripping his shoulder and shaking him once.

For a moment, I feel bad for watching; it's obvious the conversation is a heavy one, but I can't seem to look away.

Carlisle removes his hand from Edward's shoulder and steps back. Edward nods once, his eyes flashing up to mine before looking back at his father. This time, they both turn to look at me, and I jerk my head to the left, staring at a poster for flu vaccinations.

I wait a moment and look back, seeing Carlisle heading my way and Edward nowhere to be found. I scan over the small crowd of people milling about, spotting his familiar head of copper hair heading toward the exit.

Behind me, Mom is now speaking with one of her friends. I wait for a break in their conversation before telling her I'll wait for her outside. She looks hesitant but eventually nods. I spin around and come face to face with Carlisle.

He smiles, but his forehead is puckered, his eyes swimming with worry. "Bella, what a surprise to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble, distracted. "Just a check-up. I hit my head."

"Did you see someone? You don't have a concussion, do you?"

He has concern in his voice, and I can see he's genuine with his inquiry. I nod, giving him my full attention.

"I'm fine. Well, I'm sure others will tell you otherwise, but that's not what they mean. Physically, I'm fine," I joke. "And yes, I just saw Dr. Gerandy."

He laughs. "Good." He pauses for a moment. "You're looking for my son."

I stop, and I have to refrain from laughing in astonishment. This is the second time in two days that two different Cullen's have made a statement about Edward rather than asking me.

"Yes, I am. I need to speak to him."

He nods, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won't keep you then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

I thank him and hurry away, hearing muffled laughter come from behind me. I pay it no mind and rush outside, scanning the area. I spot Edward striding through the parking lot, his focus clearly on the black car just a few feet in front of him.

"Edward!"

His back straightens, but he continues on, quickening his pace. I narrow my eyes, knowing he heard me.

Increasing my speed-walking into a full-blown run, I chase him down, coming to a panting stop at his bumper.

"Hey, I … was … talking … to … you," I say in between gasping for breath.

"What do you want?"

His harsh tone and snappy words have me grinding my teeth and wanting to spew obscenities, but I refrain.

For now.

"I have something to ask you."

The muffled sound of a rock 'n roll song meets my ears, and to my surprise, Edward pulls out his cell phone, the music blaring from the tiny device. My eyebrows raise high on my forehead; I pictured him as more of a classical music kind of guy.

"I'm fine, Alice," he says, answering while answering. He pauses for a second, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. "Yeah. I'll be there soon. Bye."

He looks expectantly at me, waving his hand in the air in a 'continue on' motion. "Well?"

"Why were you at my house last night?"

I study him closely, watching for any flinch or guilty look, but there's nothing except a blank annoyed expression.

"What purpose would I have to be at your house? I mean, why would I be there?"

Well, he has a point.

For a moment, I think I'm wrong about this entire situation. Did I see things or not?

No. I may have dreamt of him killing me, but I know I was startled for a reason.

I'm almost positive he was there. If he wasn't, then he'll look at me like I'm crazy and I'll apologize and get back inside for a second opinion. If there's any other reaction, I'll press him for answers.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I tap my foot against the concrete. "That's what I want to know."

His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops as he sputters. "You … you're—" he breaks off in a scoff, running a hand through his hair. "You're insane, you know that? You should really have my father look you over for a second opinion. I think you hit your head harder than you thought," he snarls, spinning around and vaulting his body into the car like a cat.

The engine roars to life, the motor revving three times before he zips out of the parking space, the tires squealing against the pavement, leaving black marks against the concrete.

In an effort not be run over, I jump backward, watching as he speeds away, the sound of the engine fading the further away he gets.

I should be mad he almost ran me over, but I can't find it in me to evoke the feeling. Instead, I think over his parting words and smirk, before a cackle bubbles through my lips.

He knew I fell last night, which means he was there.

Just like I thought.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!