I had never seen the pack in such unmitigated distress.

They spent much of their time in wolf form, taking their anger out on the forest.

Jacob wouldn't smile for me. No matter how hard I tried.

Harry Clearwater's death was just as hard, I knew, on Charlie. We walked out the house side by side, dressed in black. He was wearing the only suit he owned and I realized this was a suit he kept specifically for funerals. My crisp, never-worn jumpsuit and jacket were yet more gifts of Alice's keen fashion sense. It felt almost like a betrayal to wear it, but nothing else I owned was appropriate.

"You look, um..." Charlie searched for the words. Couldn't find them. "Nice."

"Thanks," I said noncommittally.

My hair was slung across one shoulder in a loose braid and I realized I probably did look too nice. I could've just as easily been going to a job interview or on a date in this outfit. Get it out of your head, I told myself. No one's gonna be looking at you.

Exhaustion dug deep lines into Charlie's face. The constant circles under his eyes were getting darker. I knew he was eating enough - I was making sure of it. But he still seemed smaller somehow. I worried he was getting thinner. The way he was holding himself just wasn't the way he'd done so before. The pride he took in his work used to make him taller.

The official story was that Harry was mauled by a bear. When his daughter led police to his remains, they saw he'd been torn limb from limb. A bear was as likely a culprit as any. And I knew Charlie, together with other grieving, stoic men, would soon venture out into the woods with weapons made of useless metal and I had to bite my tongue - physically bite my tongue - to keep from telling him not to. I didn't want him chasing the bears that were real, let alone the ones fabricated to hide something worse.

The drive to La Push was quiet. I wanted to think of something deep and consoling to say to him but came up blank. I couldn't even muster anything to fill the silence. But then... If Angela or Emily had died, I wouldn't want him endlessly prattling on at me. I got that from him.

The sun was shining when we pulled up and mourners were loitering outside. Most of them I didn't recognize but a few I could name. Sue Clearwater stood at the door to perform her widowly duties, shaking hands and accepting graciously the condolences of people who went by. The younger woman - the younger image of Sue - was a sullen contrast next to her, refusing any touch. The boy on her other side smiled at everyone who went past, as if to offer them his support, not the other way round.

Jacob was standing next to his dad as we approached. He came over to me with a look of relief. I let him pull me into his arms and ran my fingers through the short crop of his hair. The word hey melted into my neck. I closed my eyes and savored the heat of his breath, the warmth of his arms around me. It might've been wrong. But wasn't this, of all days, a day to cherish being alive?

"You look good," he said when he pulled away. He had borrowed one of his dad's old suits and it was visibly too small.

"Um, thanks. You, too."

The ceremony went by in a blur. It seemed a terribly short service to cover an entire life. I held Charlie's hand the whole way through.

"It's official," I heard Billy mutter to Charlie toward the end.

My father agreed quietly. "We've been to more funerals than weddings."

The wake was being held at the Clearwater house. It wasn't far to travel and soon we were all crammed in together, dozens of people whose only common ground in some cases was knowing the same dead person. I noticed Charlie standing in the living room with Billy and half a dozen others. One of them I knew to be another cop who'd joined them on fishing trips from time to time. They were talking heatedly. My heart sank. And just like that, Jake was at my side.

I slipped into his embrace like slipping on a favorite sweater in the winter. He held me and didn't pressure me to speak.

After a moment, I whispered, "I hate this," into his skin. "I hate lying to him."

"I know," he stroked my hair. "We'll find her before they even leave for the hunt. He'll be safe, I promise."

It was a promise he couldn't keep. Not for certain. But my strength was waning and I crumpled deeper into his hold, choosing to believe his happy lies. This is the best I can do? At least I managed not to cry.

Jacob took my hand then and led me out the kitchen door.

In the backyard, the pack was gathered (in the loosest definition of the word). Each of them fidgetted in agitated, isolated movements. They were the individual pieces of a machine now torn apart. Limb from limb... Leah was with them now. She wore a simple grey dress that might have been her mother's and kept balling the fabric of the skirt in her fists. The look in her eyes was impossibly distant as she glared at the ground. Paul brushed past her. He shifted more than any of them, pacing back and forth wildly. He was trembling slightly. I realized somewhere in the back of my mind that he was pacing to keep the change at bay. Only Jacob stood perfectly still.

"So what do we do?" Paul demanded action, hotheaded as always.

"We increase patrols," Sam began laying down his laws in the calm and considered words of the alpha. "We won't risk being caught off guard again."

"Vampires don't sleep," Embry pointed out. "We're gonna run patrols day and night?"

"We'll take it in shifts. Paul, Jared, you'll patrol with me while the others are at school. Then switch. Nights will be more dangerous... I'll handle that."

"You can't go out there alone."

They kept speaking in this military fashion and the words were coming out before I realized.

"Should we really be talking about this today?" I asked out of respect.

"I don't know, Bella," the way Leah said my name chilled me to the bone. "Which do you think would be a better day to talk about it? The day before or the day after his funeral?"

"I only meant..." but I couldn't finish my excuse.

"Maybe you should take Bella home?" Quil suggested gently to Jacob.

I knew I wasn't the one who could argue so I looked at Jake and waited. He was furious, that much was obvious. I could see it bubbling beneath the surface. But he didn't speak so I couldn't tell if he was angry at them or at me.

"No, it's okay," I said briskly to spare everyone - including myself - further discomfort. "I'll get myself home."

I turned and left before anyone could disagree. I tracked down Charlie and explained as quickly as possible that I was leaving but he should stay. I almost literally ran into Emily on the way out. We exchanged the usual, overacted apologies then paused instead of dancing the awkward yet traditional side-stepping routine. We were still. And she was looking at me like she'd overheard every word when I knew she hadn't.

"It's tough," she nodded. "Being on the outside. And not being, at the same time."

I stared at her. It was rude. But I couldn't quite believe she'd put it into words. We weren't supposed to talk about our plight because it wasn't as great as others. But she had a point... This was a difficult place to be; somewhere between the magical world and the mundane.

I pulled her in for a hug. It was so unlike me but she was kind enough to put her arms around me and not make it weird. When we let go, we were "normal" again.

"Sorry for your loss," I recited. "He was your uncle, I think?"

"Once removed," Emily answered dutifully. "But yeah, he was a good guy. He's gonna be missed."

I nodded and offered her an apologetic smile. We said our goodbyes. She mentioned that my hair was "nice like that."

The journey was uncomfortable at best. We'd come to La Push in Charlie's cruiser so I had to take the bus back. It was another ten-minute walk to the house where I realized the keys for both my truck and the front door were inside. I managed to climb in through a window that'd been left open and pondered for a moment whether it was even all that dangerous (it wouldn't be any more effective at keeping out vampires if it were closed). I grabbed my keys and headed back out to the truck.

I almost couldn't remember the way. In fact, I probably didn't remember the way but the good thing about looking for a mansion in the middle of a forest was that there would likely only be one. I assumed. Even so, my poor coordination led me off the path a dozen times. At some points it was so unclear it even was a path, I thought I'd gotten lost yet again. The tires got stuck here and there but I was lucky enough to break free without too much trouble.

By the time I found the Cullen house, I was already exhausted. How the heck would I handle what was inside?

I knocked. And I thanked whatever unseen force it was that made Esme answer the door.

"Bella, what a lovely surprise," she smiled and invited me in.

I stepped inside. "Hi, Esme." Why was I mumbling? This was embarrassing, I shouldn't have come...

"Bella," Alice appeared with a small, happy smile. She approached from what I vaguely remembered was the living room. Of course, she recognized the clothes instantly. "You look -"

"Don't," I cut her off. "Please, don't."

Before I could feel any guiltier about looking good, Rosalie, in all her effortless glory, came down the stairs.

"Great," she said with a fake smile. "Now we'll never get rid of that smell."

"Rose, have some discretion," Esme chided then placed a hand on my shoulder. "How's Charlie?"

"Um, not great."

I didn't know how to elaborate and thankfully I didn't have to. Esme drew me in for a hug that was somehow much warmer than she actually felt. I'd missed her more than I realized. I tried not to dwell on the feeling. I pulled away and hesitated, looking around then turning to Alice. She knew what I was going to ask.

"No," she said. "The guys have all gone hunting."

"Lucky them," Rosalie shot me one last glare before walking off. She seemed to hate me more now than she had before. Or maybe I was just remembering it wrong.

Alice led me into the living room, sensing I needed to talk privately. It was an empty gesture since all other ears in the house could still hear us, but it was appreciated nonetheless. As we walked through, it dawned on me. This was the first time I'd been here (properly here, inside, invited) since my birthday. She'd sensed that, too, and deliberately chose a room where the party had not taken place. Or maybe it wasn't deliberate... Maybe it didn't cross her mind at all.

"Alice, I need to know what you know about Seattle," I implored. "About Victoria. The guys are going nuts. They're gonna get themselves killed. Please?"

Alice turned to me and frowned. I kept inspiring that reaction in her. She seemed sympathetic but the way her gaze dropped to the floor meant she also seemed hurt. So that's what small talk was for? To convince someone you didn't just show up at their house unannounced to take what you needed and run? I should've made it seem like I came here to see her. But I'd been too busy telling myself this wasn't all just an excuse to see her; my motives were pure, noble. Any pleasure I took from visiting the Cullens was an unfortunate side effect that Jacob - all the wolves - would simply have to forgive.

"We've been tracking the situation since it started," she finally spoke. "It's definitely not human. I just... can't tell if it's Victoria who's behind it. I know she's involved, I can feel it. I'm just not sure she's the one pulling all the strings. And I can never tell what she's going to do next."

I did a mental double take of what she just said and stared at her like I was waiting for the punchline.

"How is that possible?"

"I can't see the werewolves. They block the visions, I don't know how. I haven't been able to see your future in weeks."

I don't know why that hurt my feelings. It was a strange thing to get upset about. If anything, I should've been thrilled. I treasured my privacy more than my physical health. Being safe from Alice's prying third eye should've registered as a blessing. And yet all I could feel was that distance between us. My absence from her visions was a tangible way in which I was losing her as a friend. It meant the future I'd once fought for was well and truly lost and being faced with that stung. It was wrong, but this was the saddest I'd felt all day.

"Bella," his voice calling my name was still musical. It was just the song that had changed.

I looked up with dread to see Edward standing in the doorway. His hair was wilder from running and his eyes were burning topaz from having so recently fed. I'd grown so accustomed to his scowl I'd almost forgotten his smile. He seemed genuinely happy to see me. He was radiant.

In my peripheral view, Alice's head turned from me to her brother and back again.

"I'm going to excuse myself from the room now," she announced with a glowing smile.

My glare did nothing to change her mind. She made her way out in the direction from which he'd arrived. As she passed him, they shared a look; one of their private conversations. Something in the new slope of his grin gave it away. Anger flared in me. It felt like I was being ambushed, like they were working together to corner me. He drew nearer to me. He was literally breathtaking and I hated him. Truly and furiously, if only for a moment. I wanted to spit on his perfection. I wanted to worship it.

"How are you?" He was in front of me now.

Broken. Exhausted. Conflicted. Please hold me. "Fine."

We were quiet then and the silence screamed my secrets at him. I searched for something to say. His eyes were searching me. And they didn't drop any lower than my own gaze but I pulled my jacket closed across my chest all the same, feeling exposed under such intense scrutiny. A shiver of excitement went through me before I could stop it. He would've seen that. Hopefully, he would just think I was nervous.

"You're worried about Victoria," he stated. "We'll take care of it, I promise."

I believed him. It couldn't possibly be fair how easily I put my faith in this man. I didn't deserve to bend to his will or to want to. I wanted to stop. But his eyes were like molten amber and I was sinking blissfully into my destruction. I felt at the mercy of a force far stronger than myself. It was the most I could do to keep still and study his face. Maybe I was just imagining it but something told me he wanted to kiss me. I knew deep down that if he did, I would let him. And I knew, a truth buried even deeper, that it was not just because I couldn't physically stop him.

But then it all came flooding back.

"You promised it would be like you never existed," I blurted out. I could see in his eyes how deeply that cut him and I was angry enough to take pleasure in that as I marched away. "You lied."