Hi! I meant to post this yesterday, but things happened that made it difficult. Sorry!
Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews!

Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and Me ... thank you for all of your support. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)

SM owns everything Twilight.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Bella," Mom warbles in an over-the-top opera falsetto, bouncing on my bed. Blinking heavily, I give a lethargic smile as I watch her arms wave around dramatically, her fingers wriggling in a "jazz hands" motion. "Happy birthday to you!"

My cheeks hurt with my broad smile, but I can't seem to stop.

This is a silly tradition, something my mother has always done, probably since my birth. I'm glad, even though I'm now eighteen, she hasn't stopped waking me this way. It's something I've come to look forward to every year and it's the only day, other than Halloween, that I'll voluntarily get up early for without complaint.

"Thanks, Mom," I reply.

After I uncover myself from my blankets and sit against the wooden headboard, the painted orchids, ivy, and night sky now faded with time. Mom pulls me into a tight hug and I groan in mock distaste as she begins to plaster kiss after kiss on my forehead and cheeks.

Pulling back, her huge grin melts into a smaller one of contentment as she stares at me, brushing my unruly hair behind my ears, holding my cheeks between her palms.

"Happy Birthday, baby," she whispers, her tone wistful.

A wave of emotion hits me so hard I have to clear my throat and playfully roll my eyes so I don't start blubbering.

She sees right through me, however, and smiles knowingly, but remains silent, shifting to sit beside me. My father stands behind her, holding a chocolate frosted cake with eighteen candles burning brightly in the muted light of the room. Rose and Jasper stand on either side of him, their hands full of purple and blue wrapped packages and bags.

Jasper yawns loudly but manages a sleepy smile. Rose's posture is relaxed and carefree, for the first time in weeks.

I had planned to bring up her spirits by listing everything I admire about her, but as it turns out, she didn't need it. After a weekend away at Vera's, Rose came back a new woman.

When questioned about it, she listed everything she's happy about, which is everything most of us are happy about, too.

Royce is in jail and going to stay there for a long time. Word has it, he's already made enemies there, after he ran his mouth and pissed off the wrong people. He's been jumped and beaten to a pulp twice, the last being the worst. His father is trying to get him moved to another facility, but he hasn't had much luck so far.

With Lauren away, that hasn't been an issue either. Although, for the first time, I must say I do enjoy seeing pictures of her. Somehow, someone got a hold of photos of her in an orangey-beige jumpsuit, picking up trash along the side of the road.

No one in her former friend's circle has tried anything with Rose, though they have tried to suck up to her. Rose hasn't bought it and tells them promptly to go screw themselves.

Not only that, she's been smiling a lot more lately, humming under her breath and dressing up more often.

I'm taking this as a good sign that she took Emmett's advice and found things she loves about herself. I hope everything else will fall into place for her, whether she wants to date Emmett or not.

"Hurry up and blow these candles out," Dad complains with a teasing grin. "You'll burn the house down before too long."

"Ha! Wait until your birthday."

Dad snorts, shaking his head. "I'm not aging ever again."

This time, it's me who snorts. Dad brings the cake closer and I pause for a moment, not really knowing what I want to wish for, so I keep it on hold for now.

After the candles are blown out, I hold my hands out toward Rose and Jasper, wriggling my fingers impatiently.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme."

Mom laughs and makes room for Dad, who places a kiss on the top of my head and murmurs a birthday greeting.

"Here, you pain the ass," Jasper says, handing his stack of gifts over. "Happy birthday."

Rose elbows Jasper in the gut as she leans down, adding her stack to the pile on my bed. "Really? Was that necessary?"

He rolls his eyes with a slight huff of annoyance, but keeps hold of his good mood, giving me a wink as he continues to tease me. "What? Everyone knows Bella is a pain. That's why we love her."

Dad chuckles lightly, diverting the conversation to the important matters at hand. "A few of those are from your mom and me. Your gran's and your grandparent's card is downstairs on the table."

Without opening it, I already know what they've sent; the same thing they send every year: money. Which is fine by me, honestly. If it were up to Gran Marie, I'd be wearing bright, flowing, hippy colors. As for my Grandmother Beth, well, her choice in gifts are more suitable for the rich elite, country club members rather than a teenager.

For now, I focus on the presents I don't know about and tear into them like a five-year-old.

In the end, I come out with two sets of sketching pencils and paper from Rosalie, a gift card to buy books and a collection of horror movies from Jasper and new clothes and shoes, as well as perfume and a few pieces of jewelry from the art fair from my parents. I give them each enthusiastic hugs and we all head downstairs for a light breakfast, followed by a small serving of cake.

Well, they get a small serving.

I cut myself the biggest slice, immediately scarfing down my eggs and toast before moving on to my treat.

It's not the most nutritious breakfast, but it's part of the tradition.

Rose looks nauseated at the sight of it, but she doesn't say anything.

After I'm dressed in my new black jeans, sneakers, and deep purple corset top with mesh sleeves from my parents, the doorbell rings. We all exchange confused glances, watching Dad he goes to the door.

"Bella, I think this is for you," he calls out moments later.

Curious, I join Dad at the door, seeing a matte purple gift bag sitting on the doorstep with curled, purple and black ribbons tied to the handle.

Vaguely, I wonder who could have dropped this off.

None of my friends would pull a duck and run like this.

Well, maybe Jess … but that doesn't seem likely. She doesn't ever buy me gifts; she makes them herself and sticks them in my locker.

Angela is another option, but she too, gives me a gift at school. Plus, if she did happen to drop it off here, she would have stayed to see me open it.

The only other person I know of that knows about my birthday is Alice. If it were her or someone in her family, wouldn't they have stuck around?

Unless … could it have been Edward?

Briefly, I pause, wondering what the chances are that he did drop this off. His behavior has been so strange with me, I have no idea what the hell he's going to say or do. I don't even know what to call it.

Are we acquaintances? Friends? Enemies? Frenemies?

There's been too much up and down to know for sure.

The thought of his strange behavior has me gazing up and down the street and around our house, trying to see if anyone is still lurking about.

"What's the matter, kid?"

"What if it's a bomb?" I whisper, only half-serious.

Dad sucks air through his teeth, nodding with a serious expression, though I do see the gleam of humor shining in his eyes. "I see your point. Open it out here, will you? I almost have this house paid off."

Sarcastically, I laugh before allowing my expression to fall.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking everyone with me," I deadpan, snatching the bag up from the porch as I march back inside, determined to put an end to the wondering once and for all.

"Hey now," Dad playfully complains. "Family means sacrifice!"

Ignoring him and sitting on the stairs, my family gathers around me curiously. Mom and Dad whisper to themselves before focusing on me as I pry open the taped bag and pull out the first thing my hands touch.

A simple white envelope with bubbly letters spelling out my name is on the front. Opening it, I see a rather amusing sight; on the cover is cartoon-style drawing of a cemetery with broken headstones, dead grass, and fog. Popping up through the gray smoke is a rotted hand with tattered clothes.

Below him reads, The scariest part about today is not the zombies, ghosts, goblins or witches … and upon opening it, the message continues, it's the fact that you're another year older!

Underneath, is a handwritten note written in the messiest elegant cursive I've ever seen. I never thought it was possible to have beautifully messy handwriting, but Alice has achieved it.

Bella, I hope you have an awesome birthday! I'm sorry I couldn't give this to you in person, but hopefully, I'll see you soon! This isn't a traditional birthday card per se, but I thought you'd get a kick out of it.

My gift is in the purple skull wrapping paper, my parents' gift is in the blue bubble envelope, and Emmett's is in the black envelope. I hope you enjoy them! Happy Birthday! ~Alice

Along with Alice's message are small notes wishing me a happy birthday from her parents as well as Emmett. I smile at their thoughtfulness and pass the card to my mother, who requests to see it. She gushes over the card, reading the inner portion with a smile.

"Emmett gave you a gift?" Rose asks, her tone soft. "That was … nice of him."

For now, I ignore her, though I see Jasper staring curiously, an eyebrow poised in question. Ignoring him too, I pull out the first thing on the pile of three; the black envelope. I tear into it with a strange giddiness, finding I had a right to be.

Inside, are three season passes to the haunted house Port Angeles hosts every year. I haven't gone to it much, considering tickets cost way too much. However, it appears I'm going this year; I won't let these bad boys go to waste.

Beside me, Jasper gasps, his eyes wide. "You got … you got the passes. Holy crap! They're VIP! You're taking me with you, right?"

He doesn't wait for me to reply, instead, he follows up his statement with a resolute, "you're taking me."

Mom and Rose both reprimand him, but he doesn't look ashamed. Instead, his eyes remain on the tickets in my hand, like they're tickets to the lost city of Atlantis.

Tapping the stiff cardboard against my chin, I screw my face up while I pretend to think about it.

"Hmm. Maybe. I don't know who I'm taking yet."

Jasper whines, but I ignore him as Dad's cell phone rings. He makes a sound of annoyance, his eyes briefly flicking to the screen before looking at me with a tight smile.

"Sorry, kiddo."

He walks outside, closing the door with a firm click behind him. Mom stares after him, her fingers pulling at the collar of her bright, neon green T-shirt.

Focused on us once more, Mom nods in toward the rest of the gifts. Eagerly, I pull out the wrapped gift and tear it open. Amazed, I slowly pull out the silky soft, black cotton jacket with standing collar, lace sleeves, and huge brass buttons going down the front. I move my hands over the fabric reverently, feeling like I just stepped into the Victorian Era.

"Wow," I breathe. "This is amazing."

"It's very beautiful," Mom agrees. Surprisingly, Rose is nodding along with her.

Setting the jacket carefully aside, I pull out the final envelope from Carlisle and Esme, finding a weekend pass to the Port Angeles Theater the weekend before Halloween.

The details state there's going to be a horror movie marathon happening that Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, from five in the evening to midnight.

Along with it is a gift card so I can buy drinks and snacks.

With my giddiness through the roof, I stomp my feet on the stairs and uncharacteristically squeal, trying to refrain from crushing the paper in my hands.

Once more, Jasper is green with envy, nearly salivating at the passes in my hand.

"You have to take me, Bella. No one else will appreciate and enjoy those as much as I do."

Hopping up, I shrug. "Like I said, I'll think about it."

I smirk when I catch his angry pout.

He should really know better; of course he would be one of the first people I'd invite. For now, though, I'll let him sweat.

Dad comes in, plastering a smile on his face.

"Okay," Dad claps once, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "It's time for school."

Jasper and Rose head toward the door while I slow my steps, giving Dad a sly grin.

"You know, a perfect gift would be a day off from school."

He raises an eyebrow, tapping a finger against his pursed lips as Mom beams next to him, no doubt already planning a day of fun.

"Hmm." Dad's head tilts from left to right, still tapping a finger against his lips.

"It's Friday. I can have a three day weekend. And it's the thirteenth. It's bad to go out and not watch crazy, masked camper killer movies, you know."

Dad looks humored by my attempts of persuasion while I stand by anxiously, resisting the urge to bounce on my toes and beg.

"I don't know," he says slowly, smoothing his index and thumb fingers along his mustache. "School is important and—"

He's interrupted by his phone blasting out once more.

Hastily, he removes his blaring phone from the pocket of khaki's, frowning at the screen. He mutters something akin to "be right back" but the words are too jumbled for me to be sure.

Mom steps up and wraps her arms around Rose and Jasper's shoulders, a huge smile on her face as she leads them back toward me. I can't help but notice that while her smile is bright, her eyes tell a different story. Instead of glittering with glee, there's worry hanging heavily there, and it makes my stomach roll.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you three stay home today, hmm? We'll celebrate your birthday and do whatever you want. It'll be your day."

Jasper and I cheer, high-fiving each other with giddy, goofy grins. To my surprise, even Rose looks pleased as she returns her car keys to the hook on the wall.

"You're staying?"

"Yeah. I need a break," Rose replies. "Besides, we're just going over the material we've learned so far. Nothing new … and I can study from here."

"Oh, good. It'll be so nice to have you all here with me," Mom gushes. "We'll start the marathon right after I do my morning yoga and meditation."

"You think Dad could stay too?" I question, already knowing the answer and feeling quite selfish for the request, but it would be nice to have him here for the day.

With a gentle shake of her head, Mom sighs lightly as she pulls me into a hug. "I don't think so, honey. He has a lot to do … and with me looking for work we need the income."

My shoulders drop as I acknowledge her words.

I know there's truth in what she said. Well, partly.

Technically, we don't really need Dad's paycheck. I know for a fact that Grandmother Beth and Grandpa George had given us money when Grandpa received his brother's inheritance when he passed away last year. So, we're pretty comfortable. I also know most of the money was put into different savings accounts for college tuitions and emergencies but it's there just in case it's needed.

Dad does have a lot going on with the missing person's cases and I know he's itching to get it solved before anyone else gets hurt. That useless guilt feeling comes clawing back at me at the thought of my request.

"Well, I'm going back to sleep," Jasper announces with a yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. "Wake me when everything starts."

"Sounds like a plan," Mom states. "I'm going to see your father and then get started on my morning ritual. See you in a bit!"

We start to disperse, with Jasper and Rose heading to their respective rooms as Mom heads outside. I'm tempted to go upstairs as well, but I don't want to waste the day. Instead, I head into the living room, fully prepared to veg out in front of the television but Mom's voice calls me back.

"Bella, you missed something."

Curiously, I head to the front door, spotting a package with a dark purple bow on top of the clear cellophane. Slowly, I reach out to take it, the object shaking in my hand.

Without even removing it from its protective wrapping, I know what it is. The dark brown leather and thick, cream-colored pages are an easy giveaway.

It's the sketchbook I felt drawn to but didn't get because it was too much money.

Carefully, I peel back the bow from the cellophane, the plastic crinkling bursting into the air. For a moment, I simply stare at it, my hands moving reverently over the front of the medium-sized sketchbook.

"What is it?"

Fleetingly, I glance at my cousins standing behind me who must have come back at hearing Mom but I don't answer.

I can't.

Shock and awe race through my body, wondering who had given me this and why.

Gently, I run my hands over the buttery smoothness of the cover and the rough, jagged pages of the paper that marginally stick out of the sides.

Opening it, I flip the pages, my senses hit with a burst of leather and earth. A small white notecard flutters to the ground and Rose immediately scoops it up before it can fly away.

"That's a beautiful sketchbook," Rose murmurs, her tone awed. "Hmm … this isn't signed. I wonder who sent it."

Absently, I shake my head and shrug, my attention still on the book in my hands. I have no idea who could have sent this, especially when I didn't ask anyone for it or even mention it.

My gut tells me perhaps Alice had bought it since she seems to be gifted, but if that were the case, then why wasn't it in the bag with the other gifts?

"Can I see that card?"

The card is nothing spectacular; there's no fancy or silly artwork. It's a simple, white notecard with the fanciest, cleanest written script I've ever seen.

Bella, I hope you have a wonderful birthday.

I'm tempted to say it's printed since it's all so perfect, but the indentations in the paper say otherwise.

Who could have given this to me? I don't know anyone who writes this well except …

I pause, my eyes darting up and down the street and into the tree line surrounding our neighborhood. Could Edward be the person responsible for this gift? If his entire family knows it's my birthday, then he would have to know too, right?

Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out.

Inside, I dial Alice's number, hoping she'll answer.

The past few weeks have been iffy with her. Not only have all the Cullen's been pulled out of school to be homeschooled, but most of the time she doesn't answer the phone and instead sends a text minutes after I call. Other times, she answers right away, distraction and with a hint of frustration in her words.

I've asked her more than once if everything is okay and while she assures me she's fine, just feeling under the weather, I think there's something more to it.

I just can't put my finger on it.

That's why I'm more than surprised to hear her chipper voice ring through the speaker, wishing me a happy birthday.

"You're so disgustingly cheerful," I playfully retort before I can help myself.

"That's why we work so well as friends," she says plainly. "I'm the light to your dark."

"I see." I chuckle lightly, ignoring Jasper's curious stare as he leans against the staircase. "Are you feeling better?"

"Sort of," she hedges. "The headaches still strike me unexpectedly."

A rustling of leaves followed by a low growl meet my ears and I pause, listening for any sounds, but I hear nothing.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I lost my balance. Did you like your gifts?"

"Yes, I really love them."

Alice squeals. "I hoped you would."

"It's great and perfect for me," I murmur, holding my cell phone between my ear and shoulder so I can run my hand down the opposite sleeve. "Thank you; and will thank Emmett and your parents as well?"

There's a beat of silence before she answers. "I will."

"Thanks." I hesitate as Jasper stares intently, obviously aiming to eavesdrop.

Rolling my eyes, I head into the living room, hoping to get a little bit of privacy.

"Listen, I have a question. There was another gift on my porch—"

My words are interrupted by a curse and a loud thundering crack that has my heart shooting up into my throat.

"Alice? Are you okay?"

I'm met by silence and when I pull my phone away, I see the reason why; the phone call has been disconnected.

I stare at the device for a long moment with a frown, wondering what had happened. It can't be anything good. Finding her number again, I press send, frowning when her voicemail immediately picks up.

With a heaviness in my stomach, I find Edward's number, my finger hesitating over the green button. I know once I voluntarily call him, I'll probably never hear the end of it, but I need to know if Alice is okay.

Pressing it, I wait, listening to the sharp ring sound four times before his voicemail picks up. Hanging up, I hold the phone tightly in my hand, as if I can see what is happening through the device.

"What happened?"

Looking down, I scowl at Jasper leisurely easing his way into the room, no doubt eavesdropping in on my conversation.

"Were you listening to my conversation?"

"I just find it odd that Alice is too sick to come to school, but sounded loudly chipper just now, that's all."

Without putting a lot of force behind it, I flick his forehead with my fingers. He winces and scowls, rubbing the affected area.

"You didn't get the full story, eavesdropper."

"So what is the full story?" He prods.

"No idea. I wish I knew."

Jasper scoffs and shakes his head, not liking my answer. "And I thought you were a super sleuth," he murmurs. Before I can reply, he continues. "What about Alice? Is she doing better?"

"She's still struggling."

He hums, raising an eyebrow. "Is that all it is? Because the end of your phone call sounded rather abrupt."

"You should get a summer job at the café or exercise studio. You'd fit in with all of the gossips."

Not taking the bait, he simply stares, his posture relaxed and at ease as he waits for me to reply. I match his stare with one of my own, not giving in to his tactics of making me talk; and honestly, he should know better. I don't crumble that easily.

"Didn't you want to sleep more?" I question, falling back onto the couch.

"I think we should go over there."

"You can't be serious," I reply incredulously.

He meets my gaze steadily. "I'm very serious. I want to see if they're okay. Don't you want to see if they're okay?"

I wave a hand at him, shaking my head firmly. "You're just being nosey, that's all. And I'm sure Alice is fine. Maybe she just got sick … or maybe she dropped her phone. The list of reasons why the phone call cut off so abruptly is endless."

Striding in, he sits on the coffee table, effectively sitting in front of me and blocking my view of the television. I make a noise of distaste and sigh heavily, giving him a less than pleased look.

"I'm not being nosey. I'm concerned."

I snort, giving him an "are you kidding me?" look.

"It's just a little weird she sounded so chipper on the phone when supposedly, she's so sick they can't come to school and have to be homeschooled."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Around," he mumbles, shuffling to the right slightly.

Groaning under my breath, I slap a hand to my forehead, resisting to urge to flick his forehead again. "Stop listening to rumors. Next thing you know, you'll hear that they're aliens or some shit."

"I'm not stupid enough to believe that. "

"Sure you're not."

"Screw you," he playfully huffs, before his expression becomes more serious. "They're my friends and I have a weird feeling. I think they might be in trouble or something."

"So, you've said. This weird feeling, is it a weird feeling that something is wrong or a weird feeling about them?"

His silence is the only answer I need.

"Look, they're a little odd. So what? We all are. Alice said they have complicated backgrounds that center on loss for all of them. Maybe they're just being overprotective and overly cautious."

"Maybe," he murmurs, knowing when it comes to worrying about family, he's the best one out of us all. "But what if they need help with something?"

"What if there's nothing you can do?" I counter. "Just take a breather and wait for them to contact you. If they need something, I'm sure they'll ask."

Obviously not liking my answer, he gets up and walks to the window, flinching at a beam of sunlight that makes a rare appearance through the thick clouds. I watch him, noting how his eyes widen the slightest bit as he stares off into the trees.

Straightening, I follow his line of sight, quickly sweeping my gaze over the thick trees, but finding nothing. Turning back to him, I see Jasper rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, blinking heavily and looking back, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Seconds later, he shakes his head, mumbling under his breath.

"Do you think I should try to call Alice?" he asks, snapping out of whatever daze he was in.

For a moment, I simply stare at him in astonishment before I remember how to get my brain and words working again.

"Why?"

Now looking at the floor, he nods once. "Maybe she'll answer the phone."

"You think she'll answer for you if she won't for me?"

"No," he instantly replies, his tone heated. If it weren't for the spots of color on his cheeks, I would think he's upset.

"I'm not being nosey," he insists when I raise a questioning eyebrow. "I just thought it would be helpful, you know?"

"Why? Because she's crushing on you and you thought you'd take advantage of it?"

He shoots me an angry, disgruntled look. "First of all, I would never do that. Secondly, we're friends. Or at least we're trying to be. Or I'm trying to be. It's hard because I know she likes me and I just feel something from her and it kind of …" he trails off, shaking his head. "Never mind. Do you want me to help or not?"

"She's not avoiding me and even if she was, I wouldn't make you do my dirty work. It'll be fine. She'll call or text me when she's able to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some television to watch."

Flipping through the channels, I quickly locate some re-runs of Supernatural and settle into the couch with a contented exhale.

"Will you just think about going over there?" he asks, hesitating in the entryway.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumble.

Seconds later, he leaves and I eye my phone again, willing it to ring. Despite the television being a comfortable volume and my favorite television show playing, all I can hear are the last moments of my call with Alice.

Something happened. Something that didn't sound like it was a simple accident of someone dropping their phone.

However, knowing there's nothing I can do, I attempt to distract myself with the television, hoping my feeling is wrong.

8*8*8*8*8*8

Fifteen minutes later, I'm just starting to doze off when a bang, followed by a loud curse just beyond the front door jars me from sleep. Rushing to the window, I find my father standing on the porch, his hand hanging at his side, the knuckles red and bleeding. I wince as I notice a small stream of blood that drips down his fingers, into the dirt.

Throwing the front door open, I reach him the same time Mom comes flying from the back of the house. She holds a hand out in front of her, shaking her head once before pointing back to the door. Walking backward, I step into the threshold of the house, but remain rooted in the doorway, my hand gripping the doorframe in an unforgiving grip.

"Charlie!" Mom cradles his hand delicately between her own, wincing as she turns it over in her palm. Blood transfers from his skin to hers, smearing the red liquid over her knuckles and palms. "What did you do, honey? You need to get this checked out."

"I can't Renee. Another body has been found and another person has been taken. I need—"

He attempts to shrug her off, but she holds firm, moving with him and matching his movements with ease. She stares at him with a fierce expression, worry, and determination clear in her gaze.

"You need to get this checked. There's being dedicated to your job and then there's being stupid; you can't help anyone if you're ignoring your own injuries."

"Mom's right, Dad. You need to see a doctor."

He looks surprised at my appearance for a moment, nodding once when Mom whispers something in his ear. He whispers something back to her, a look of repentant relief flashing across his features.

"Is there anything I can get you, Dad? Some pain killers or something?"

Tiredly, he laughs, wincing as he looks down at his bloodied hand. "No thanks, kid. Go back inside, okay?"

I hesitate but ultimately go back in, seeing Jasper shuffling out of his room, looking extremely grumpy.

"What's going on? What's the noise about?"

"Dad hurt himself."

"Is he okay?"

I start to reply, but Dad's raised voice shouting my mother's name has me pausing. The amount of terror in his voice has me tensing and spinning around, my hand on the doorknob.

Starting to turn it, I pause, my heart thundering in my chest. Lightly, my hand shakes, the knob rattling with the force of it.

"What's going on? Open the door."

I ignore him and tear my hand away, instead opting to listen to my frozen body and peer out of the peephole instead. A noise of disgust flows through my lips at my limited field of view, ignoring Jasper's incessant questioning from behind me.

My parents stand a few feet in front of the door, slowly shuffling in my direction, my father standing protectively in front of my mother.

Vaguely, I can hear another voice that's low and smooth, with a hint of an accent. Through a tight throat, I swallow, trying to recall where I had heard the voice the before, but my attention is drawn to the slow movement just a few feet away.

My father fumbles for something in his pocket, blindly and clumsily shoving it into my mother's hand. It takes me a second to realize it's his phone.

The unknown party laughs, his voice becoming clearer.

"—get here in time?"

Stepping back slightly, I wrack my brain, trying to recall where I heard that voice before. Flashes of the guy—Laurent—from the alley pop up, but is it really him? Without being able to see, there's no way to tell for sure.

"What is going on out there?" Jasper questions loudly, from the living room. "Who's out there? Who are they talking to?"

Darting into the next room, I attempt to peer out of the window, but the view isn't any better from here.

"What did you see?"

He shrugs. "Nothing for sure, but they're obviously looking at someone out there. Who—"

A loud thump against the door has me jumping, and then there's nothing but silence. The only sound that can be heard is my labored breathing.

Jasper gives me a curious look and goes for the door just as the loud roar of my father's car erupts from the driveway, the motor revving like a growling bear.

Jasper and I spill out of the front door, seeing a large portion of the yard disturbed, with chunks of grass and mud scattered about.

Upon first glance, it looks as if a rough game of football was played out here. If I hadn't heard the disturbance moments earlier, I would have believed that perhaps we were hit by a meteor.

Deep indentations in the mud lead toward Dad's car, where he's twisted in the front seat, peering at something or someone in the back. When he turns around, I gasp at his pale complexion and the wild look in his eye.

His gaze sweeps right over us unseeingly as his bloodied hands grip the steering wheel, frantically yanking the car into reverse.

Suddenly, he comes to screeching halt as a four-door, dark blue Mercedes comes speeding up behind him, blocking his path.

Carlisle immediately jumps out of the driver's seat, closely followed by the rest of the Cullens, including Alice. Her face is pinched in worry and pain, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Catching my eye, she gives a tight smile, her lips pressed together so tightly I can barely see them. She looks away before I can smile back, which is a good thing, considering it wasn't even in a single thought to smile or wave back at her.

Beside her, Edward stands rigid and poised to strike, his hands curling into fists and straightening, only to have the cycle repeat. Like an animal sensing a predator, he wildly looks around the area, glaring off into the trees as if they offended him personally.

"What the hell? What are they doing here?" Jasper mumbles to himself, his pale pallor standing out against the dark clothes he's wearing.

Dad leaps from his car, racing to Carlisle, one hand gripping his arm while the other flails about, pointing frantically to the cruiser. His words come out in a jumbled string of antagonized sounds, laced with desperation and hurt.

Seeing my father so broken and lost has me shaking, blindly reaching for anything stable. Luckily, Jasper takes a hold of me, crushing me to his side as we watch the scene unfold before us.

Esme quickly walks past Dad, giving him a comforting smile before ducking into the back seat, leaving her family outside in a loose semi-circle around the car, their postures stiff and coiled.

Carlisle calmly talks to Dad, placing his hands on Dad's flailing arm. Despite the obviously tense and frantic moment, Carlisle remains composed and collected. Dad slowly quiets, listening to Carlisle's words with a somber expression before he slumps forward, his face landing on Carlisle's shoulder as he loudly sobs, gripping the other man's shirt tightly.

His body shakes with the force of his cries, but Carlisle doesn't bat an eye. He merely hugs him, continuing to speak quietly.

My own eyes start to burn at his distress, knowing whatever happened out here wasn't good. I want to go to him, to see what's going on and offer him comfort, but something is telling me I need to remain where I am for the time being.

A quick look at Jasper tells me he feels the same indecision, if the pained look on his face is any indication.

Catching my look, Jasper hugs me so tightly it's hard to breathe, but I don't complain. I need something to ground me.

Looking back at the scene unfolding a few feet away, I notice every so often Dad nods at whatever Carlisle is telling him before looking at us on the porch.

Stepping back, Dad takes a moment, seemingly standing there and breathing deeply before heading in our direction.

As soon as he turns, Carlisle hops into the backseat, replacing Esme.

Dad walks toward us with hurried steps, his face grim and splotchy and streaked with tears. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen red.

"Go back inside, now." His voice is rough and cracks in multiple places.

"Dad, what's going on? Where's Mom?"

A pained expression crosses his face. His eyes become glassy and he clears his throat, looking back at the car briefly before returning his gaze to us.

"She hurt herself. We need to get her checked out," he replies, clearing his throat several times as he tries to sound normal.

"We heard someone else out here," Jasper says, concern and suspicion warring on his face.

Dad scrubs a hand over his face, sighing roughly and a little impatiently. He continuously looks back at the car, bumping his casted hand against his hip as he stares. "Yeah, there was a lost hiker that startled her when he came out of the woods. Look, I need to go, okay? Stay inside and lock the doors. Do not open them for anyone, got it? I'll call you once I know something."

Dumbly, we both nod and remain where we are, watching as Dad jumps in the car, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he waits for Carlisle and Esme to pull out. Once they do, he peels out of the driveway, his tires smoking against the asphalt, spraying tiny rocks and pebbles into the air. They fall onto the concrete in little pings, the sound reminiscent of hail against glass.

All at once, emotions war through me; I want to cry for the distress my father was in. I want to scream for him to come back, to be with my mother and comfort her. I want to tell her I love her, and feel one of her overly tight hugs.

While the weather is warm, I feel cold, and slowly wrap my arms around my midsection, feeling my stomach roll with the possibilities of what could have happened to her and when … or if I'll ever see her again.

Forcing the thought away, I look for any distraction, finding it a mere, ten feet away. It's there I see the Cullens, standing in a loose semi-circle, still, stiff, and tense.

"What are you doing here?" Jasper asks, his tone accusing and suspicious.

"We were picking up Alice from her doctor's appointment when the Chief called," Edward answers easily. "We came right over."

Still suspicious, Jasper hums, tapping a finger against the top of his thigh.

"We over-reacted, I'm afraid," Alice offers weakly, her smile just as strong as her words. "We assumed the worst when we heard the call. We're sorry if we frightened you."

Realizing that Jasper isn't going to reply, I take it upon myself to answer for him.

"It's fine." My voice cracks as I speak, and immediately, worried eyes fall on me, much to my frustration. Clearing my throat, I try again, hoping I sound stronger and more secure. "Do you need to call a cab? Or you can borrow Rose's car to get home."

"Can we hang out here?" Alice inquires, a hopeful note in her voice. "It'll be nice to spend time with you on your birthday."

Behind us, footsteps on the stairs have us turning, seeing Rose coming down, looking completely at ease.

"Okay, are we doing —" she hesitates, seeing our guests. The relaxed expression she had fades as her eyes narrow in on the Cullens, or more specifically, Emmett. "What are you doing here?"

Turning toward me and Jasper, she tilts her head in their direction, her cheeks, and neck flushing red. "What are they doing here? Where is Aunt Renee?"

Jasper and I exchanging looks is all it takes for concern and worry to blossom on her features. She pales, swallowing thickly, her fingers twisting the bottom of her oversized shirt. When she speaks, her voice is small and childlike.

"What happened?"

So ... yeah. That happened. And there are more surprises on the way!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I'll try to update as soon as I can, so you don't have to wait long for the next chapter. :)