~ oOo ~

An early update! I know; we haven't had one
of these in a while, huh? *shields face from flying
tomatoes*

So I'm back in my rhythm with cranking the
chapters out, and I'm actually halfway through
the penultimate chapter now.

That said, I'm not a hundred percent sure I'll
be able to let go of these characters and their world
just yet, so only time will tell if I continue beyond
where I'm at right now.

As always, I'm looooving your opinions, and your
cheerleading. These girls stole my heart a long
time ago, and I'm glad to see that you're all loving
on them, too. I'm sorry I've been an utter fail at
responding to reviews, but I promise I'm reading
them and doing my best to get back to as many of you
as possible!

Big THANK YOUs and much love to
SunflowerFran and annaharding
They make me look good, and gain very little
from doing so. Without you ladies this would
be a messy shambles.

Anyways, enough outta me, right?

I'll let you dive in.

~ oOo ~

Summary: When two little girls were allowed to walk

home from school one bright spring day nobody could've

predicted the events that followed. The way two families

were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man.

Nearly twelve years on, we'll watch as the two girls stolen

away from their homes at eight years old fight to take

back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. AU

Pinky Promises

Chapter Eighteen

As expected, the reunion between the two eldest girls and the two youngest was a tearful, emotional affair.

As soon as the identical twins stepped through the door, their faces were drenched in tears. Rosalie's took a few moments longer to appear as she tried to reconcile the toddlers she'd left with the young women they'd become, but once they'd started, she couldn't stop them.

Scarlett released a single, solitary tear, watching with her legs tucked against her chest, her heart thumping wildly. Charlie and Peter were overwhelmed at the sight of the young twins embracing Rosalie, who, for so long, had been seen as a twin to Scarlett.

For Mary and Roy, the couple who'd all but mothered Pippa and Heidi since Rosalie's disappearance, the sight of their three granddaughters huddled together was everything they'd wished for. On the other hand, Scarlett's defensive position and the child in her lap told them what they'd hoped wouldn't be true – the girls hadn't had a happy life away from home.

Large, stormy, sea-blue eyes gazed around the room at the reuniting family. Meanwhile, Scarlett felt as though her heart was breaking all over again. Heidi and Pippa had grown up to look every bit their mother's clones, from the color and style of their hair to their light green eyes. Despite them having known their mother for only a year before her death, Scarlett could clearly see the startling resemblances in their personalities. Tina had always had a way of smiling that made you want to know what put it there. Heidi had that same expression down to a fine art. As she whispered to Rosalie that she'd missed her, Pippa's voice sent a shudder down Scarlett's spine – it was Tina's, bell-like tones perfectly duplicated.

It was those realizations that were tearing Scarlett to pieces, because she knew that while being kidnapped wasn't anybody's fault but Garrett Smith's, she was heaping the full burden of not escaping sooner on her own, too-slender shoulders. Rightly or wrongly, Scarlett felt responsible for her minutes-younger pseudo-sister, and it was with that thought that she shifted Marley to her hip, making the most of everybody's preoccupation to slip away.

In the garden, Edward tugged at his hair with both hands, torso bent over his knees as he tapped his foot against the patio in agitation. Through the open kitchen window, he heard the squeals of the girls, the sobs, and the 'I love yous.' Finally finding it too difficult to listen to their declarations, he rose quickly to his feet and made to leave.

"You're leaving?" A small voice murmured, just as his hand made contact with the handle on the gate.

Cocking his head around the corner, he spotted Scarlett, Marley smiling widely at him from her side. Jade green eyes took in the baggy, gray, jersey jogging bottoms, fluffy pink socks and a t-shirt that was very obviously Charlie or Archie's. The wide-striped orange and white tee drowned her, hanging almost to her knees. She looked adorable, he realized with a jolt of affection.

"I, er, figured you'd want to…" Edward waved a hand awkwardly towards the house, "umm, you know… It's been a long time."

Scarlett let out a low hum, frowning at the garden. He wondered fleetingly if it looked different to her. Little about either house, Charlie's or Peter's, had changed in the years she'd been absent, but the garden had been altered the most. The pond had gone, making way for Carl-Roman's sandbox, and the garden furniture he'd made had replaced the old metal bench.

"How're you feeling? Must be weird, huh? It was strange for me, and I was here before just before Christmas."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Edward regretted them. As if she needed reminding that it had been years since she was there last.

Despite his worrying over upsetting her, Scarlett simply dropped her head in a nod, sliding down the wall to sit on the patio, knees drawn up, Marley sitting across them, chest-to-chest with her mother.

"I didn't expect everything to be so different, but the same."

The breeze swept her words towards Edward, frozen with his hand on the gate. The same gate he, Charlie, and Archie had worked on together in December when the last one fell and broke in a particularly violent storm. He was torn between wanting to join Scarlett, but not wanting to frighten her by getting too close. Even though she'd let him hold her that morning, he didn't want to test her boundaries without a good reason. It wasn't always easy to be sure how close was 'too close.'

"It's like…we were in a place that changed with the seasons, but apart from that, it just, stayed the same. Here, not so much."

The look of childlike bemusement on her face as she tilted her head at him took Edward by surprise. The rush of nostalgia was strong, blurred memories from years previous shoving unapologetically to the forefront of his mind.

"It's like someone hit pause on us and fast forwarded the rest of the world. Do you know what I mean?"

Edward took note of two things. The first was the lilting drawl to Scarlett's words. It was more noticeable when she spoke in full sentences.

The second was the strong urge he felt to scoop this poor, heartbreakingly sad girl into his arms so he could squeeze all the hurt from her body until the goofy smiles he remembered reappeared. It was virtually irrepressible.

"I can't even imagine what it's like," he eventually forced himself to utter, pushing a breath out to relax his tense muscles.

"You can—" Scarlett paused, gulping hard enough that Edward could see the movement of her throat from six feet away. "You can sit. If you want."

A hesitant pause later saw Edward sitting on the edge of the deck chair she'd indicated with a dip of her head. He eyed her carefully for signs of fear or stress, but she seemed calm enough, cuddling her baby close, still a meter or so between their feet. Though Edward expected her to talk some more, she didn't, so they lapsed into a semi-comfortable silence broken only by the occasional squawk of a seagull overhead, or a car zooming down the bypass on the other side of the lake at the back of the house.

Edward couldn't suppress a chuckle, when, a few minutes later, Scarlett's body shook with a hearty yawn. "Tired?"

She hummed, eyeing him with her right cheek resting atop Marley's head.

"I would've thought you'd sleep like a baby. You looked exhausted last night."

Her eyes switched from wary sea-blue to guarded dark turquoise within an instant. She couldn't make herself look in his direction. "Sorry. About last night."

"Hey, you've got nothin' to apologize for, Bean."

At that, Scarlett's eyes darted towards him. They shared a careful smile. 'Bean,' or 'Bella Bean,' had always been his nickname for her when they were younger because she'd always been more than a little obsessed with Jelly Beans. Edward had begun using the nickname when she was four, and never let it go.

Saying it then, seeing the way the solemn girl's face lit up at just the mention of it, made Edward's stomach warm pleasantly with a sense of pride. If being the friend to her he always had been helped make things better, he was more than happy to be that again.

When Charlie found them five minutes later, the stormy quality to her eyes and the agitated tapping of her foot were the only things hinting at her nerves.

"Are you okay, baby girl?"

Scarlett shuffled her body, facing her dad's confused, half-smiling face. "I'm…I'm good, Dad. I thought Rosalie, and the girls, would want some space."

"Hey, we want to see you, too." Pippa appeared behind Charlie, a smile on her face, and Heidi soon joined them. As the girls sat themselves down beside each other within arms' reach of Scarlett, Edward watched attentively for signs she was distressed. He didn't see any, but when she shot him a funny glance as he tried to leave he pretended he'd only intended to get a drink and return, taking up his spot back on the recliner, a silent sentry guard.

~ oOo ~

The day passed in a slow whirlwind of learning new faces, new voices, and sharing old memories.

The two younger girls spent much of the day with tears streaming down their faces. For them, it was an enormous day. The few memories they'd had of Scarlett and Rosalie had long vanished, replaced by stories they'd been told over the years by people who'd known them better. Seeing the girls in the flesh was a completely different experience.

Mary and Roy were emotional, too, unable to fully comprehend the sight of their granddaughter and her best friend. Roy, a retired policeman, struggled to put his flesh and blood in place of victims he'd seen throughout his forty-year-long career.

As afternoon aged into early evening, Peter showed his mother and father-in-law over to his house, setting them up in his room while his youngest daughters fell into theirs, shell-shocked but overwhelmingly happy. Then, he returned to Charlie's house where he planned to sleep on the sofa not already occupied.

Late that night the moon shone effervescent in the midnight sky. The only conscious occupant of the house was Scarlett, standing silently at Charlie's bedroom window watching wispy gray clouds drift across the inky sky. Rosalie and Marley slept soundly behind her, the spot she'd vacated still cold and empty.

It seemed like only yesterday she'd been looking up at the same moon from an entirely different continent, in a completely different life.

~ oOo ~

Tuesday morning dawned unseasonably bitter. Scarlett, having not slept a wink the night before, was in the kitchen over an hour before anybody else in either house stirred. Edward was the first to join her.

Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes with a balled-up fist, Edward hung his calves over the end of the sofa and stretched his back until it popped quietly. His quiet groan didn't wake Peter, who had finally worried himself into a deep slumber at around three o'clock. The ivory sofa creaked slightly beneath Edward's weight as he shifted himself sideways, tossing long legs encased in a pair of dark gray, checked bottoms off the seat. Stretching out his arms pulled his muscles taut, Peter's huff of breath from across the room making him jump.

"Shit!" He breathed, rubbing his stubble-framed jaw with one hand while fruitlessly trying to tame his sleep-mussed hair with the other. It was more habit than useful, as his hair had never sat quite right unless stuck down with copious amounts of gel. Permanent bed-head, his uncle had once called it. He'd taken to hiding his hair beneath a dark gray cap he'd acquired when he was ten, and never went anywhere without it; it sat on the coffee table nearby.

A few moments later, his stomach released a growled protest at not being fed, so Edward pushed his body up and off the sofa before padding through to the kitchen. He was stunned to find he wasn't the first person up, even though it wasn't even six a.m.

The large breakfast bar was covered in bowls and plates; some full, others awaiting their contents. The smell of freshly-squeezed orange juice hitchhiked on the breeze sneaking in through the slightly opened French doors, along with the aroma of freshly baked bread, which he spotted Scarlett pulling from the oven. His eyes flew away from the food when he heard a sharp gasp.

Scarlett gazed at Edward, wide-eyed and seemingly shocked. He offered her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't realize anyone else was up. You must have been making a load of noise, and I slept through it all."

Having spent a few weeks around Scarlett by now, Edward quickly backtracked. She wouldn't have made any noise. She very rarely did.

When it became obvious he wasn't going to get much out of Scarlett just yet, Edward walked the long way round the kitchen to the sink where he grabbed a glass from the draining board, pouring himself a glass of cold water to soothe his gravelly throat. From the corner of his eye, he watched Scarlett slowly continue her task, setting the steaming bread on the counter, closing the oven, and adjusting the dial. For the next few minutes, Edward simply observed, ever-hopeful she'd open up to him again. Unbeknownst to Edward, this behavior, this mountain of food she was preparing, was a defense mechanism. It was what she knew, what she'd become used to. Cooking meals for the ranch had been her task for nine years or so; she and Rosalie had taken over sole responsibility for the kitchen when they were eleven. Allowing her old traits to manifest once again was her way of keeping her mind occupied, giving it menial tasks to deal with rather than the terrifying one she'd face later that day

Giving her statement.

Rosalie would be there, too, also recounting the past twelve years to a police officer as well as an FBI agent.

Edward's gaze followed Scarlett's mechanical movements from the dining table, where he'd sat, as she removed bacon from the fridge along with sausages and a carton of eggs. In the next moment, his face contorted in horror, legs pushing him up and around the island before he could think. Scarlett's shaky grip on the eggs had faltered, the sound of a cat meowing outside sending her right back to Montana for a few, gut-wrenching seconds. The contents of the three eggs that toppled from their container splashed up over the short-sleeved t-shirt she'd borrowed from her dad and the gray tracksuit bottoms Archie had stolen for her from his fiancée's wardrobe.s

Hands hovering cautiously near her shoulders, Edward ached to help, though he wasn't sure how to go about it.

Then, as hot tears streamed in torrents over Scarlett's face and her breaths turned to shallow pants, he thought to hell with it and tugged her gently into his chest, curling strong arms around her back. To his utter shock, she burrowed into him with a soft whimper. She clutched at his sides frantically, his lack of t-shirt leaving her with nothing to grip.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay, Bella. It's just me, you're all right." Edward rested his head atop her head. His hand ran a soothing path up and down the top half of her spine, the ends of her strawberry-blonde locks tickling his forearm. "Calm down. You're safe with me." Keeping his voice deliberately at a low whisper, Edward rocked their bodies side-to-side, humming the first tune that came to mind. Eventually, Scarlett came back to herself, the shudders wracking her body less frequent, tears slowing to more of a trickle than the waterfall of a minute previous.

Edward's eyebrows leaped towards his hairline at the muffled sound of her apology against his chest. Ignoring the electricity that skittered over his skin with her warm breath, Edward squeezed her gently. "Nothin' to apologize for, ragazza dolce."

Unlike when he deliberately called Carl-Roman nicknames in Italian to make him giggle, the 'pretty girl' he whispered into Scarlett's hair was completely unintentional, slipping out before he had a chance of catching it. Slowly but surely, little by little, her body relaxed into his. Her cheek resting against his chest, hands at his waist on the band of his pajama pants, she grew heavier as she let her fright leach from her body and absorbed his warmth instead. Heat seeped from his skin into hers, their hearts beating steadily in tandem while Scarlett forced herself to focus on where she was, who she was with. Curling a lock of hair around his finger, Edward pulled his head back slightly to peer down at Scarlett.

"You feel better?"

She nodded, tipping her head up to his with obvious determination. Soft green met azure. "Thank you, Edward."

The childlike quality to her voice tugged something primitive in Edward's psyche, his heart aching.

"Anything you need, you only have to ask, okay? I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

The pair stared at each other for a long while, two lives entwined in a mess of tangled strings, a web woven by a man so embroiled in his own selfish mind that he couldn't see the damage he'd been doing, the damage he was still doing. Edward could see it. He could see the anguish and heartbreak in Scarlett's wide, teary eyes, the broken spirit she carried, the ghost of the quirky little girl she'd once been…and yet, all he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and keep her from any more harm.

~ oOo ~

The smell of cooking sausages lured Charlie, Peter, and Rosalie from their beds a short while later, though not before Marley bounced down the stairs with Mr. Eddie under her arm and a grin in place. She'd plonked herself on Edward's hip and 'helped' him pour the orange juice into glasses. Only a little was spilled.

The men emerged dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Strangely, they'd both chosen black – Charlie's a dress shirt, and Peter's a black and gray striped polo. Peter gave Rosalie a long-sleeved, dark red marl t-shirt to wear along with a pair of gray jogging bottoms. She had to roll them at the waist and ankles, so they didn't drown her, but they were fleecy and comfortable, the lingering smell of her dad's deodorant making her feel safe. When the trio made it to the kitchen within a minute of each other, they found an unexpected picture of domesticity.

Scarlett, now sporting a pair of Edward's jogging bottoms and a pale blue t-shirt with long white sleeves rolled to her elbows, was moving swiftly around the room preparing breakfast. The hem was knotted at her hip with a rubber band she'd found in the odds and ends drawer. Edward had also changed into a green, waffle-knit Henley, tan cargo shorts, and his beloved cap. Marley had refused to leave his side, clinging to his hip like a spider monkey with her hair in two, slightly wonky braids that he was incredibly proud of. He stood a meter away from Scarlett at the stove, checking on the bacon in the top oven while she chopped the few fruits she'd scrounged from the fridge and fruit bowl.

"Uh, g'morning," Charlie uttered gruffly.

Scarlett spun on her heels, blinking rapidly before her heart returned to its usual rhythm. It's just Dad, Uncle Pete, and Rosalie; Edward saw her mouth as she turned back to the counter.

"Good morning. Umm, you guys sit, and I'll…"

Unable to speak anymore through the lump in her throat, she gestured at the food, praying they'd understand. Thankfully, the two bewildered men took their seats at the table without another word. Rosalie came to help, washing her hands thoroughly before easily moving into step with the preparations. Finished with his task for the moment, Edward stepped back to watch the girls in their element. It was clear they were more at home in the kitchen than anywhere else. They worked in perfect synchronization, as though they knew the moves the other would make before they'd even made the conscious decision to do so.

Minutes later, the pair served up a feast, silent but seemingly calm. Though she didn't eat any of the food she'd cooked, Scarlett sat at the table with the group and ate a small bowl of fruit salad. The upcoming trauma had her stomach tied in knots so tight even the most adept knitter wouldn't have been able to untangle them. She was just praying her morning sickness didn't return with a vengeance, as she'd had a few days free of it by now.

Nobody said a word when she set the bowl back on the table, still half-full.

"Archie and the boys will be here soon," Charlie commented quietly as the girls began clearing plates away. There was still plenty of food left, the looming ordeal hanging over their heads robbing everybody of their appetites. It wasn't just Scarlett who had the visit to the police station weighing heavily on her mind.

"Are they…" Rosalie breathed deeply through her nose before continuing, a false note of cheer to her tone. "Are they coming with us?"

Charlie nodded, a simple dip of his head, eyes flicking to Scarlett though she had her back to him at the sink. "Kristen is catching a flight to New York today, so she's sleeping. As we'll all be out, there isn't anyone else to watch Carl-Roman and Chase. Riley said he's cleared it for them to hang with us in the waiting room."

Not for the first time, Rosalie noticed that nobody ever seemed to call Carl-Roman by one name or the other. He was always Carl-Roman, never just Carl, never just Roman. It was a sweet tribute that put a lump in her throat as she pictured the adorable little boy.

The group all heard the front door lock disengaging. It thumped the wall with a muted thud. The sound pre-empted hi-top clad feet thundering their way down the hall and into the kitchen, Charlie's face lighting up instantly.

"Were your ears burning, champ? We were just talking about you."

The boy hopped neatly into his grandfather's lap, grinning toothily. "My ears aren't burning, Pawpaw! You're silly."

Rosalie's heart thumped unevenly at the sight of Archie's mini-me bouncing on Charlie's lap, her lips tipping upwards when he spotted her and his grin widened.

"Auntie Rosie!" With the limited grace he possessed, Carl-Roman slid down, ducking under the table to crawl onto Rosalie's legs. "You're still here!"

Just then, Archie arrived in the doorway, Chase in his arms, shaking his head at his son's antics. "He begged me to let him in first, so I had to go back to sort the car out and grab this one," he explained ruefully, bouncing Chase and grinning at his eldest boy. "You left the door open again, champ."

His chastisement fell on deaf ears. The six-year-old was far more interested in his auntie.

"Come in and sit, Arch. Coffee?" Edward rose with his now-empty mug. However, before he could step away from the table, Scarlett was standing beside him with a full jug of hot coffee. Edward sank back into the leather cushioned chair with a grin as she first nudged the outside of his bicep with her shoulder, then poured a full cup for him before moving around the table to refill the other mugs as requested, placing a fresh one in front of her brother. The wary upwards tilt of her mouth as she did so was the best gift she could have given him, better even than the coffee.

"Good morning, Arch."

He grinned, reaching out to gently place his hand over hers. The onlookers were all delighted when she didn't flinch away, going so far as to turn her hand over and briefly squeeze their fingers together. It was a small step, but progress nonetheless.

Safe to say, nobody was more pleased than Scarlett that she was finally overcoming her fear of touch, bit by excruciating bit.

~ oOo ~

A short while later, the mood in the house was decidedly more somber.

As nine a.m. approached, Scarlett and Rosalie excused themselves, sitting quietly on the patio while the others prepared for the unwanted excursion. Riley had been over to discuss security, because even though the press apparently hadn't caught on to the girls' presence in Eastbourne yet, it was only a matter of time before they would come looking for answers. So far, the police and FBI had collaborated and lured them to London, where they had decoys pretending to be the girls. Everyone agreed that giving them a chance to settle in at home was for the best.

Neither Scarlett nor Rosalie needed to be worrying about newspapers or press when they were still adjusting to normal life.

Even ever-cheery Carl-Roman had picked up on the shift in mood, sitting quietly on Charlie's lap with two of his favorite trains in front of him, the noises he made with his mouth softer than usual. Archie, Charlie, and Peter discussed arrangements for getting the group to the station, Edward watching from the patio doorway with Marley against his chest, her face buried in his neck.

It was eventually decided they would take Charlie's and Archie's cars, both able to transport five people each. Mary and Roy had volunteered to stay home and look after Pippa, Heidi, Carl-Roman, and Chase, so they only needed to be able to fit seven people between the two vehicles – Charlie, Peter, Edward, Marley, Scarlett, Rosalie, and Archie.

Transport arrangements finalized, Charlie leaned forward over the table and peered out through the doors to see Scarlett and Rosalie's feet tangled together on the patio, the rest of their bodies hidden around the slight corner.

All that was left to do was wait until they were ready.

A gust of wind blew through the garden, a mini tornado of grass, loose dirt, and some blossom whirling in the air beside Carl-Roman's slide. In the distance, some seagulls squawked, fighting over a piece of trash in the street. Scarlett's eyes were trained on the flicking tail atop the shed, however. A lithe gray cat's blue-gray eyes returned her attention, fur bristling in the breeze.

"Do you think they made it?" If it weren't for Rosalie's keen hearing, she would've missed Scarlett's whisper.

"I don't…I don't know. They weren't inside, so they should be okay. I mean, they usually stayed in the barn. And the barn wasn't on fire, so, I guess they're all right. Charlie and Violet are probably all warm and curled up in the bark sulking because they haven't got any milk."

Rosalie was hesitant to admit that she'd already wondered, many times, about the two cats they'd adopted as friends.

"And Bear,...Pam. The old kicker, Bruce. I wonder what happened to them all. Do you think the agents moved them?"

Much as Edward hadn't been able to quell the strange sensation Scarlett's childlike lilt stirred in him, Rosalie found herself thoroughly unable to push the look on her sister's face from her mind as she cocked her head to gaze hopefully at her, channeling Carl-Roman's innocent, puppy-dog eyes.

Arranging her features into the most reassuring shapes she could manage, Rosalie uttered the words she desperately hoped to be true. "They'll be chilling out somewhere fancy, I just know it."

Scarlett hummed, rolling her head on her knees to look back at the cat. It was gone.

"Are you nervous?" Rosalie blurted suddenly. She'd been trying so very hard to keep cool this morning, to temper her anxiety and propensity for fidgeting or leaning on Scarlett for help.

Scarlett was oddly collected, with an almost serene look on her face, her body relaxed. What nobody could see was that inside, she was far from cool or collected. Her heart thundered frantically, stomach churning as her eyes brewed a tempest. It was the reason she wouldn't meet anybody's gaze, even Rosalie's. She knew they'd give her away.

"Yeah, I am." They were the only words she could bring herself to utter, knowing that soon, all too soon, she'd be reliving most people's worst nightmare – her reality.

"We'll be okay, you know. We…we only have to tell them and then we can come back here and just relax, right? They're only words. It's not like we—" Rosalie trailed off with a choked gasp. "It's not like we're going back there. Not ever."

Both girls desperately wanted to believe Rosalie's words, wanted to believe that the next three days would be painless. They wanted to be able to tell their story to the police without falling apart, but they already were, in a way. Just the thought of being in a strange place with strange police officers while reliving the worst twelve years of their lives had both girls breaking out in cold sweats.

No matter how nice it would be to magically heal now they were home, life just doesn't work that way.

Scarlett eyed Rosalie, admiration sharpening her vision. She didn't know what she'd have done without Rosalie's unwavering support. The tired blonde was filled with a love for her pseudo sister so deep she could hardly breathe through it all. In all the years she'd been Scarlett's shoulder to cry on, Scarlett hadn't truly appreciated Rosalie. Sure, Scarlett had been the outwardly strong one, taking the punishments Garrett Smith had handed out liberally. But on the other side of things, Rosalie had to deal with the emotional ramifications of the abuse. She had to watch Scarlett return from the study with bruises, split lips, and pain in her feet where Garrett had just loved to show how strong he could be with his steel-toe-capped boots.

The image of Scarlett's black and blue ribs would be engrained in Rosalie's memory for the rest of her life, her whimpered cries burned into her eardrums. It wasn't just as simple as leaving the ranch, and it never would be.

Whenever they heard booted footsteps, saw a gray-brown head of hair or a sinister smile, heard the name 'Smith,' they'd be thrown right back to the ranch, to a time when they thought their lives had ended.

It was with those thoughts Scarlett's focus shifted to the wispy clouds drifting across the sky. It almost resembled an 'E,' she realized with a start. It reminded her of Edward, of the support they had. The friends and family rallying to help her, Rosalie, and Marley settle into their new lives. Less than twenty feet away were their dads, Archie, Edward, Carl-Roman, Chase, and Marley, all waiting patiently for them to be ready. They were all trying so very hard.

Feeling the gentle warmth of her family's love knitting itself around her body, attempting to heat her from the inside out, Scarlett tried to reassure herself with the knowledge that it didn't matter what happened today, tomorrow, next week, or next month. Because her family and friends would be there to help her, help them, through it.

Standing on shaky, fawn-like legs, Scarlett took Rosalie's hand in a firm grip. Baby-blues pleaded with her to stop this from having to happen, though Rosalie knew full-well there was nothing to be done.

This was inevitable, as were the three days of visiting the police station afterward.

"We can do this, Rose, because we've got each other."

Rosalie's lower lip trembled precariously as she rose to her own feet. The pair shared a hard, bone-crushing hug for extra strength before turning, letting themselves back into the kitchen. The men's eyes snapped to the girls, arms wrapped tight around each other's waists, body language telling of their steely determination.

Dwarfed in Edward's clothes, like Rosalie was in Peter's, Scarlett looked even tinier than usual. But the over-sized clothes, the clothes of their family, wrapped them up like a security blanket. Something given with love to help them get through the upcoming distress.

Then, in a tone surprisingly firm for the wisp of a woman, she uttered the words they were all equally dreading, yet proud of.

"We're ready."