-MAISIE-


In the privacy allotted to us by Jane and Alec's leaving, Jasper and I shared the full details of the circumstances that brought Nahuel's sisters to their deaths. Thankfully, there were no hard feelings even with the entire tale laid out. I think Jett was a big factor in that, though; Nahuel and Hulien were enamored with him, just as everyone else was. That boy had a magnetic quality to him that was impossible to deny.

Charlotte and Peter, having determined that Nahuel and Hulien were of no threat to us and Jasper wouldn't require assistance, had excused themselves to hunt. I was certain this had more to do with their desire to give us time with Jett's biological family than it did their own needs.

Jett entertained all of us with his typical antics until he tired himself out, falling asleep sprawled across Nahuel's lap where he sat in the floor of the hotel room. He gave Jett over to Jasper, to be tucked properly into bed. Relieved of his burden, Nahuel caught my eye and nodded toward the sliding door that led to the balcony. Hulien caught his arm and gave it a squeeze as we passed her, red eyes soft and her smile maternal.

Considering both Hulien and Jasper were vampires, standing on the balcony only gave use the illusion of total privacy. Still, I understood the intention. What I didn't immediately understand where the words he told me that muggy night.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, voice soft and eyes downcast at the stories below us. "For taking him in."

"Please don't." My stomach twisted with guilt at his words, Jennifer's hate-filled face filling my mind. Unknowingly, Nahuel had hit on the raw guilt that I carried in my chest every single day. I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. "I—"

But Nahuel cut me off with the simple gesture of taking my hand. I was surprised by the warmth of it; not quite so hot as Leah, but still warmer than a human. He gave my hand a squeeze, wrapping his fingers around mine.

"No," he said, guessing exactly at what I had been trying to say, "you had a choice. You didn't have to do this, and you did. You chose him, and because of that, my sisters didn't die for nothing."

"You didn't see her face!" The words burst out of my mouth before I could give them a first thought, let alone a second. Nahuel started beside me, his hold tightening on my hand. "She hated me, and I don't blame her! The whole reason that Jennifer and y'all's sisters are dead is me. I can't let you thank me."

My little fit seemed to suck all the air from the balcony. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't need to run, I thought to myself, I just needed to confront Nahuel to get my heart to beat normally. My heart slammed against my ribs as I waited for Nahuel to say something, anything. In the suffocating silence, I watched his features slowly fade from shock to the usual passive face he wore.

"She probably did," he admitted, "and I won't lie about that. But you are not the whole reason they died, Maisie. It was going to come sooner or later. Our father thought himself infallible, but he was wrong. I think we can both admit that." Here, he gave me a rueful smile that held no amusement. "What do you think would have happened had you and Jasper not been on trial as well?"

"We both know, Nahuel," I told him, making sure to meet his dark gaze. He nodded, so small as to be nearly imperceptible. "There's no need to say it."

"Precisely. Now, let me thank you. Even if you can't accept it today, I think you will one day. Or, at least, I hope you will." Would I ever? I wasn't sure. I thought of Jasper, tucking Jett into his bed. I had watched the scene play out enough times to know that Jasper would wrap a blanket around Jett, tucking it in around him once Jett had flipped himself onto his stomach as was his habit. In my mind's eye, I could see how Jasper would lean over the edge once Jett was settled, pushing back his wayward hair to kiss him goodnight on his forehead.

"Would she have been thankful?" I asked, studying the ground far below us from our dizzying height. Even knowing how much love Jett had in his life, I wasn't sure if I would have been thankful, had I been in Jennifer's shoes.

Nahuel was quiet beside me for a long time. I peeked at him through my lashes, finding him gazing down the dizzying height afforded to us by the balcony just as I was. At great length, he sighed, and said, "Yes. I think she would have been. My sisters loved our father in a way I never could, and in a way I'll never understand. The things they went through for his experiments… yet, I am certain Jennifer would be thankful that Jett is being spared that life. Even at the expense of hers."

He gave my hand another squeeze. "As terrible as it is, I have to admit that I am thankful for the Volturi, too. He would never have stopped, Maisie, unless he was killed. My father would have worn my sisters down to death eventually himself. And I know the Volturi would have killed Jett had you and Jasper not agreed to raise him, but I also know my father likely would have killed him as well. He's going through a chewing phase, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's teething," I confirmed, smiling a little despite myself. "Sorry about that. I noticed him gnawing on your finger."

Nahuel waved away the apology with his free hand. "He's fine. I noticed, though… his teeth aren't sharp, are they? Not unless he bites very hard, which he did." Nahuel showed me his finger, the one Jett had been idly chewing, the little imprint of Jett's tooth a tender red blotch on his tanned skin. I felt my eyes widen, an apology forming on my lips, but Nahuel waved it away. "It will heal within the hour, which is why I needed to show it to you now. Unlike myself, Jett is not venomous."

This was a factor that hadn't occurred to me, but of course it would to Nahuel. The whole reason his father had viewed him as a valued, wasted resource—thanks to Hulien saving Nahuel from his father's abuse—was because he, unlike his sisters, had venom. Joham had theorized that due to Nahuel's venom, he might be able to succeed where his sisters had failed, with the exception of Jennifer, of course.

"You really think Joham might have…?" I couldn't even make myself finish the sentence, thinking of Carlisle and the tender love that glowed from his face when Jett was around. To think Joham, in contrast, would have viewed his grandchild as a failure was terrible enough.

"He would have," Nahuel said, all cold confidence. "He told the girls often enough that they would only get to keep the 'useful' children, once he succeeded."

A chilly shiver wracked my spine despite the heavy, muggy air. I couldn't form any kind of response to that; at least, not one that wouldn't be offensive. Instead, we stood in the silence of this awful truth for a few heartbeats before I shook the dread from myself.

"Let's go back inside," I told him. "We're leaving day after tomorrow, and I think it would be more fun spending time with Jett than talking about him."

"Isn't he asleep?" Nahuel asked, brow furrowing.

"Yeah, for now. He'll wake up in an hour or two, though. It's a fun new game he's been playing since he started teething." Nahuel laughed, but he saw the truth of my words soon enough. Jett was up and down throughout the night, his grumpiness over his teeth undercut by his joy at seeing his new friends were still there. We spent the last days in Colombia spending time with Peter, Charlotte, Nahuel, and Hulien.

By the time we were on the plane home, I was feeling much better than I had when we boarded the plane to come to South America. Sitting beside Jasper on that plane, I laid my head on his shoulder and relished in our shared, reassuring calm. Jett sat in his lap, chewing idly on his own finger while Jasper read quietly to him from a thick, illustrated book of Aesop's fables.

That plane ride home was a reprieve, in truth. Once we landed back in Alaska, Alice began to demand most of my time outside of class and work. Much to her chagrin, I refused to go to a bridal boutique of any kind without my mom and Ava. Perhaps Mom would have put aside some of her anger if I had asked, but I wasn't able to bring myself to broach the subject.

But neither could I justify shopping with Esme, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasmine.

Instead, Alice took it upon herself to design and make my wedding dress by hand. A spare bedroom in Edward and Jasmine's house had been delegated to her workspace and Alice had all but moved in with them to work on it. More often than not, I found myself in that room—overflowing with bolts of lace and silk in nearly indistinguishable shades of white, cream, and ivory—on Saturdays so that Alice could work with me as her living mannequin.

"How do you feel about sleeves?" Alice asked on the second Saturday, sitting on the floor curved around her sketchbook. Her previous design involving a strapless dress had been scrapped due to the fact that the wedding would be in Alaska. Even in the spring weather, I wore long sleeves here, and—blessedly—Alice decided my comfort was as important as the style.

"I'm definitely not opposed to them." She nodded, making an adjustment to her sketch before flitting across the room to scrutinize her lace fabric options. I let her lift my arm, resorting to typing my essay one handed while she wrapped me in various patterns from wrist to elbow. In all honesty, I wasn't paying much attention to the fabric she eventually chose. I just caught her decisive nod before all her samples were back in place and Alice had returned to drawing.

"Once we settle on a silhouette, I'll make a mock-up with your measurements, and we can go over the finer details. I can tell you for sure, Maisie, we are not using a zipper." I smiled up at her before returning to my homework. Gunner had asked me why I was bothering taking classes, since I wouldn't be able to transfer my credits, but I liked my classes and I liked learning about Alaskan wildlife. Besides, I was the one paying for my classes, so it wasn't like I was wasting our parents' money.

I liked the new routine of meeting with Alice to work on the dress and do my homework. It fit in nicely with my runs with Jasmine, not to mention the daily routine of life with Jasper and Jett. Nicest of all, while Alice loved Jett, she still treated me as a separate person instead of an extension of Jett.

Lately, the only time I heard form Rose was when she asked about Jett.

"Stand still," Alice chided me on the third Saturday, plucking my phone from my hand and tossing it onto the armchair I sat in to do my work. "I know it's harder for you humans… or almost-humans. It's driving me insane."

"Sorry," I grumbled, trying to affect the same statue-stillness I had seen the Cullens adopt. While I trusted Alice with my life, staying still was probably in my best interest. I really didn't want to get stuck with one of Alice's straight pins as she fitted the bodice lining to me. "Rose gets annoying if I don't answer her immediately."

"Asking about Nahuel again?" Alice had heard plenty of my griping over the past three weeks. Since we came back, Rosalie had developed an obsession with knowing every little detail about Nahuel's encounters with Jett. Never mind that neither Jasper nor I—Jett's actual parents—had any qualms about the visit. If anything, I was infinitely relieved that it had gone as well as it had.

"Yeah. But I guess that I could have worse things to worry about than Rose being a pest, huh?"

"If that's how you want to rationalize her behavior to yourself," Alice quipped. Though we all knew Rose meant well… or at the least, was coming from a place of love for Jett, we had all taken to teasing her about it. While she wasn't around, of course. We also knew what an open wound the whole situation was from her, so none of us dared say anything to her face. Still, I had no doubt Rosalie would have moved into our house if Jasper would allow it.

Alice gently raised my arms above my head, making sure she liked the fit and movement before she helped me wiggle out of the pinned bodice. I retrieved my sweater where I had discarded it on the floor, pulling it over my head before confessing, "I did invite Nahuel to see Jett again when we're all on Isle Esme."

"Do you want Rosalie to be the first vampire to become incapacitated by a conniption fit?" Behind me, my phone buzzed again. Honestly, at this point, I would enjoy it. Muffled by the floor that separated us, I could just make out Edward chuckling downstairs.

"Nahuel's his uncle," I pointed out. "His actual uncle. The only way he'll ever know about his real mom is through her, and I can't take that from Jett."

Alice's hand sewing was faster than any machine. She whipped through one side of the bodice, using her teeth to cut the thread after tying the most perfect, tiny knot. "Maisie, you are Jett's 'real mom'."

"You know what I mean," I told her, getting back to my math homework. Like Jasper, Alice took every opportunity to validate me in my position as Jett's mother.

"I do," she conceded happily, sewing up the other seams of the bodice lining before I had even finished three problems. "You shouldn't have bothered to put that sweater back on. Up you go, math will wait."

"My math homework is due before the wedding," Still, I obliged her and shucked my sweater once more so Alice could slip the now-finished bodice lining over my head. "Um, did you forget to sew the front?"

"No," Alice turned me this way and that, scrutinizing me. The front of the bodice lining plunged in a V that ended just around the bottom of my ribcage. "You'll have sleeves, and the skirt is to be floor length. If I covered you up entirely, the dress would swallow you because of your height."

I was only a few inches taller than Alice's diminutive size. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to envision her in a dress that covered her from the neck down. "Okay, you're probably right. I do think it's funny that I asked you for sleeves so I wouldn't be cold but then you basically exposed my entire torso."

Duly pleased with the bodice lining, Alice pulled it over my head once more and began the arduous process of choosing between lace patterns that were virtually identical in design and shade. Usually, I loved fashion as much as Alice did, but the lace truly looked the same to me. There had to have been some difference among them, though, because Alice quickly chucked two of the samples over her shoulder with a delicately disgusted scrunch of her nose. Shaking my head, I got back to work on my math.

Playing mannequin for Alice's dressmaking was the only part of wedding planning I enjoyed. The rest of the process was tainted with what would come after, namely, how Jasper, Jett, and I would fake our deaths. Peter and Charlotte were going to help us with that part; blessedly, it was something I didn't have to think too much about. That conversation took place between the three of them, for the most part. I was more involved with where we would live after, and all the million little details that would go into assuming a new identity.

Every night, now, once Jett was in bed, Jasper and I would curl up on the couch with his laptop balanced on our knees to look through house listings and colleges in Iceland. As Gunner had pointed out, none of my credits would transfer, which was annoying.

"Imagine going to high school over and over again for decades and none of those credits transferring," Jasper teased me when I voiced such concerns. "I must confess, I am not sad to break the monotony of that routine."

"Add it to the list of reasons why Jett is so fabulous," I told him, pushing away my more concerning thoughts. To a lesser extent, we would be breaking—at least publicly—from the Cullens. That was why Peter and Charlotte were playing such a large role in helping us make our great escape from our current identities of Maisie Thompson and Jasper Hale. All Jasper's family would need alibis, as surely the disappearance of a young couple and their adoptive child would be investigated regardless of the circumstances.

We would have to be largely cut off from the Cullens, at least for a few years. And—at least for the same length of time—I would have to go without contact with Gunner and Leah. The thought of being isolated from the people who had buoyed us through the past few years left me bathed in cold sweat.

"What's the process for international students at the University of Iceland?" I asked, changing the subject for myself and my inner turmoil, if not for Jasper. At APU, we had begun going out on the water and studying marine life. I very much wanted to continue that line of study, and UI was the only Icelandic college we had come across thus far that offered that line of courses. "That one seems like the best bet."

"Jenks should be able to fudge everything we need to enroll you there," he reassured me. Still, he double-checked the list of documents needed for application to the university with his own list of requests for the conman. "You'll have to start with the low-level classes in English while you learn Icelandic, though."

"And I suppose you'll be teaching me that, too?" I asked, smirking at the memories of our time as Spanish class partners. Jasper laughed, shaking his head.

"No, I don't know Icelandic. We'll have to learn it together, mi amor, and teach it to Jett, besides." Jasper ran his fingers through my hair idly, scrolling further down a page of real estate in and around Reykjavík.

"We have to think about Jett, too," I reminded him, interrupting his scrolling of apartment listings. "He needs to be able to make friends with other kids, especially if he's going to learn to blend with full humans."

"Excellent point, mi amor," Jasper conceded. He changed tracts and instead began looking at places in Kópavogur, a town on a bay that primarily housed families. In the two hours we had before Jett was likely to wake up, we came back to a little, dark blue two-bedroom house with white shutters and a cherry-red front door. It was comparatively nondescript—all the houses in the area were painted in bold colors—and nestled in the middle of a street that appeared to be walking distance from the bay. Jasper reassured me that he would easily be able to purchase the house under his true name of Jasper Whitlock, which had been out of use to him for some decades now and untraceable to the last time he had used it… which was 'sometime in the 1960's'.

"And," he pointed out, tucking his laptop away at the first sound of Jett's grumbling, "this will be the first time Maisie and Jett Whitlock exist."

Despite my feelings about the actual wedding, a little thrill ran through me at the three of us sharing a name as an 'official' family. I relayed all this information for Gunner, when I could catch him between his own schedules of school, work, and Leah.

"Can I be your best man?" Gunner asked, interrupting my explanation of where we would live in Iceland. I could hear him chewing over the line and the passing voices of other people. He was eating between classes, hurrying across campus before he was late for his lab class.

"What?" I asked, stunned into confusion. Honestly, we weren't planning on even having a wedding party. The only invitees to the whole affair were our families, after all.

"Can I be your best man?" He repeated. "Y'know, like, instead of a maid of honor. Provided I survive Charlie and Sue's wedding, first."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that… how's Leah? It's gonna be on La Push, right?" When Leah left the wolf pack, she had intended not to return to La Push unless it was necessary. She could hardly ask her mother to forgo the traditions of their tribe for her second marriage, which meant Leah would find herself back in the thick of it with Sam and the rest of the boys.

"Yeah, she's not exactly thrilled, but she is Sue's maid of honor. Which brings us back to the question at hand, Maisie. Can I be your best man?"

I nearly laughed at his insistence, before realization dawned on me like the sun breaking from the clouds. Gunner would attend my wedding, but I would never get to attend his, because I would be 'dead'. My mouth turned to cotton, leaving me swallowing and licking my lips before replying. "Yes, but I hope you realize you've opened yourself up to Alice's fashion scrutiny."

If Gunner noticed the strangled sound of my voice, he didn't comment on it. Rather, he laughed, and assured me, "Tell Alice I'll wear whatever she dictates and I won't even complain about it until after the ceremony."

I managed not to cry until I hung up with Gunner. Though Jett was napping, I took him from his crib and cuddled him to me, pressing my tear-damp cheek to his crown of sleep-mussed curls. More so even than Jasper's mood altering, simply holding Jett grounded me when my emotions went into turmoil. His curls smelled of baby shampoo and Jasper, who had put Jett down for his nap before leaving to hunt.

I couldn't keep hiding from it. The truth, that is. When I went running with Jasmine two days later, we took a longer path than usual, through some foothills. Grass and even some flowers were starting to peek through the spring snow; by the time Jasper and I were married, that snow would melt to the brief, glorious bounty of a full Alaskan spring.

"Tell me how you did it." Our footfalls disturbed a little flock of birds, sending them scattering into the sky.

"Did what?" She asked, all ease beside me. "Talk Alice out of fully remodeling the guest room into a pseudo bridal boutique for you?"

I laughed despite myself, breath puffing in a cloud before me. "That is impressive," I admitted, "but I meant, tell me how you stand it. How you don't lose your mind over not being able to see your family. I want to be ready."

Jasmine and I were past hesitancy now. I didn't feel bad about asking; she took no offense at my boldness.

"You can't be ready," she told me, matching my bluntness. "You just have to deal with it. Some days its easier. Some days its hell."

I was expecting this answer, but I was still disappointed when it came. "Tell me how you deal with it, then."

Here, Jasmine smirked at me, sending a golden, sidelong glance my way. "Screaming helps."

"Screaming?"

"You heard me." She smiled at me before opening her mouth and letting out a shriek. I started, not expecting her to actually do it. "Scream, Maisie!"

"I don't—" I began, but Jasmine cut me off with another loud whoop.

"Maisie, don't give me that shit." Her feet sputtered to stillness on top of one of the hills, her hand shooting out to grab me by the arm and pull me to a stop. "If anyone needs to scream, it's you."

"But—" Again, I was cut off, Jasmine pitching forward so that I got her latest scream full in the face. The volume left my ears ringing. Every time I tried to say something, Jasmine shouted again. Some indignant birds squawked in response here and there, irate with the interruption to their afternoon.

Still, after a few rounds of this, Jasmine achieved her goal. Unable to take it any longer, I screamed wordlessly—so loud and long that it left my throat raw—back at her. This, of course, left Jasmine in hysterics, with her face crinkling and nose scrunching. "How do you feel now?"

Empty. I told her as much, but this emptiness was not a bad thing. It felt like the lightheadedness after a good cry, when you've purged all your grief. Except I wasn't feeling grief, not yet anyway. Until it was gone, I hadn't realized how much anger I had been holding in.

"Good," she told me, her smile flashing bright and white. "Now that you're empty, you can fill yourself back up. And when you're too full—scream."

"Scream," I echoed back to her, nodding my head and feeling like it might just fall right off my neck. That was how light it felt.

"You're going to be mad," she told me. "Pissed. Furious. But you can't hold onto it. Cry when you're sad and scream when you're mad, or you'll go crazy with it. And you can't afford to go crazy."

"No," I agreed, Jett's sweet little face flashing through my mind. It was followed quickly after by Jennifer's, the glare of her own anger making me want to shrink away. I shook my head instead. I owed it to her to take care of Jett, and I owed it to Jett to take care of him well.

I was growing cold with the absence of our running. Jasmine must have recognized this; she took my hand again, and set her pace to match mine, so that we were linked in this way the entire journey home.


Alice finished my dress before April began. I was the first to see it, of course, wearing it as I was. During the construction of the dress, Alice had refused to have any mirrors in the room, not wanting me to get a glimpse of the full effect until it was complete. She dressed me, doing up the numerous buttons down my back, and threatened me on my life not to open my eyes until she was back and in position.

"Ready?" She asked. My heart was racing in my chest, but I nodded. "One, two, three…"

I caught a tiny glimpse of Alice's giddy smile before all my focus was taken up by my reflection. The bodice was slashed open down the front to the waist of the skirt, icy, sheer lace covering my arms down to the wrists. The sleeves were fitted, leaving my torso and arms sleek in contrast to the light, frothy tulle skirt. It was full and floor length, as she had said it would be, hovering somewhere between and A-line and ballgown cut. Lace appliques decorated the skirt elegantly; Alice had a critical eye, and despite her propensity for dramatic fashion, she had left me graceful and sophisticated.

"Turn a little," she prompted me, and when I did, I realized that some of the underskirts were iridescent. They shimmered prettily with the movement.

"Alice," her name left my mouth strangled. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, blinking back my tears. Giggling, she threw herself me, almost knocking me from the pedestal she had bid me stand on. I caught her weight just in time, hugging her tightly.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" She asked. "And so much fun to do, since I couldn't see your reaction! I was just as surprised as you were, for once! I even kicked Jasmine and Edward out for the afternoon, so he can't peak and spoil the surprise for everyone else."

As if Edward cared what I would be wearing.

"It's beyond perfect," I told her, meaning it with my whole heart. It wasn't until I saw my finished dress that I felt even a little bit excited over my own wedding. "But… I have a favor to ask. Gunner wants to be my best man—I know, don't say it, I already told you we wouldn't have a wedding party and now I'm going back on that—but listen, okay? I can't tell him no. This is the only chance we'll get to be in the other's wedding. And he promised to wear whatever you picked for him, with no complaining."

That was enough to dull the sting immensely. Alice smiled again, but this time her golden eyes were sparkling with mischief.

I hoped Gunner realized what he had put himself up to.


A/N: Hey. y'all! Just hopping on to say I hope all is well! I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter and that everyone has a great week. :) We're coming up on the end, and I'm both so excited but also so sad!