CHAPTER 6

"I hope you realise that this is the first time you have visited this apartment… and I've lived here for years."

I smile abashed, "I didn't think the truck would make it, and that leaves public transport."

"I know, I'm just teasing. I couldn't ask you to squish yourself against strangers, no matter how much I missed you."

"I missed you too," I look around at her well furnished apartment. "Please tell me all of this isn't yours."

She looks around at the many items. "It is, but I'm just going to take the smaller stuff, the landlord agreed to take the rest of the stuff in exchange for my notice at no charge, he'll be able to get more for the apartment furnished anyway."

"Okay, then you go do the bathroom and your bedroom, I'll get started on the living and kitchen."

She walks off so I turn on the T.V. so we have some background noise to work to. I start packing everything small and personal in the boxes we picked up on the way here, not really paying attention to the items or my packing method, but rather the T.V.

"Hi, this is Kori Turbowitz on location at the Seatlle P.D. where the new Drug Strike Force, or D.S.F. as they have come to be known as, have once again arrested yet another drug supplier, the fifth in as little as a year. We will cross now to Force administrator Sergeant Rob Gordon."

The camera switches to a middle-aged man, ignoring all of the questions thrown at him by the press and focuses on a sheet of paper in his hand. He clears his throat, and looks up. "Silence please." The white noise lowers to a small buzz. "It is no secret that there is an epidemic in this city… one I intend to cure. This war on drugs can seem tiresome, but it is days like today that make the difference between winning and losing the war. The alleged was caught through a sting operation with the help of informants and undercover operatives. This is the DSF's fifth major bust since we established eleven months ago, and I think it is fair for me to say, we will all be sleeping a little better tonight. There will be no questioning time, thank you." He then walks away, leaving a noisy buzz in his wake.

The camera then flicks back to the reporter. "That was founder and administrator of the D.S.F., Rob Gordon speaking, confirming as much as we already knew. The alleged has been identified as local man Roy Hodge a local butcher. There isn't much known about Hodge at these early hours of the arrest, but we have footage of his transfer that we will cross to now."

The screen flicks to a shakily held camera that has been thrust up against a police car, the alleged shown cuffed in the back seat beside an officer. The officer opens the door, shoving the camera out of the way. The screen flashes the ground, then the sky, before settling on the two men bustling with another group of officers toward the police station.

"Mr. Hodge, do you have anything to say?"

Hodge takes no time in yelling a response so all can hear. "It wasn't me! I'm innocent! I was set up… set up I tell you!"

"By whom, Mr. Hodge?"

"That Volturi fellow… what's his name? Aro! That's him, it was Aro Volturi!"

The screen then flashes back to the reporter, but I turn it down, not wanting to hear anymore. I continue to pack away more of her items, a new bout of confusion and disbelief churning in my brain. I move on to the kitchen and notice the only things in here are the utensils and cookware and necessities. "Do you want any of this kitchen stuff? We have most of this crap at home anyway." I holler through the apartment.

"No, just take anything you want though."

I pick up a bumble bee spatula and I find one of her baby spoons that has her name engraved on it, but I leave the rest.

"Alright, I'm good," she huffs, juggling two boxes and two garbage bags full of clothes.

"Let me help," I offer and load her with my small box but take the two garbage bags in exchange.

"Thanks, we just need to return the keys downstairs to the owner."

She leads the way downstairs to a small office with a window and one of those slide trays that allows small exchanges through the bulletproof glass. But why would a small apartment building need bulletproof glass?

"Thanks Mr. Volturi, I appreciate everything you've done for me," my sister smiles genuinely at the man.

"No problem Rosie, and good luck with your business, I'll see you next week then." My eyes widen at this news, but I still my tongue, I will bombard her with questions when I get her alone in her car. "And is this the infamous Bella?" He asks, eyeing me… scrutinising me.

"Yes, but you will have to excuse her, she has a congenital birth defect that doesn't allow her to act like a normal person." I offer him a small smile with a nod, it's enough to pass as a greeting. "Well, must be off, need to get home to unpack."

"Well, drive safe… wouldn't want anything happening to you now."

His reply sends a chill up my spine, so I pick up the garbage bags and force my feet forward, which prompts Rose to move. We fill up her boot and back seat, and it isn't until we are on the highway that I start asking questions.

"What was that man's name?"

"Felix Volturi, why?" She shoots me a worried look.

"And why will you see him next week?"

"What has you wound up so much?"

"Please Rose, just answer the question." A deep-seeded bubble of dread fills my gut before she even speaks.

"His father was the one that gave me my business loan, I need to drop in once a month to make repayments."

"His father, as in Aro Volturi?"

"Yes… I don't understand what you are so worked up about Bella."

"How much did you borrow?" I ask, needing to know.

"A bit…."

"And how much is a bit?"