That´s What Little Girls Are Made Of...
Chapter One-Twenty-Eight
Edward
Alive!
Alive!
He thinks Carlisle and Esme are alive!
Jesus, could this really be true?
Automatically and unconsciously, hope, so strong, like the tentacles of a mighty sea creature, thread, entwine, grip, and consume me. I don´t even remember giving myself permission to believe in such a thing.
A year and seven months roughly, give or take a day.
Five hundred and forty-nine days...
Thirteen thousand, one hundred and seventy-six hours...
Seven hundred, ninety thousand, five hundred sixty minutes…
Forty-seven million, four hundred thirty-three thousand, six hundred seconds…
Give or take a fucking few!
Why now?
We were in the process of rebuilding our lives, moving on, and healing. Why the fuck now, after all this time? I sprang to my feet and began pacing the floor. "Why are you people doing this to us?" I choked out past the baseball-sized lump in my throat.
Ripping a hand through my hair, I tried to get my anger under control. Of course, that all went to hell when I heard Bella let out a soft sob. Instantly, I was at her side. "Shh, Baby Girl," I cooed, pulling her into my side. "See what the fuck you´ve done?!" I lashed out. "Haven´t you people hurt us enough? You couldn´t tell us a goddamn thing over a year and a half ago, what makes you think we want to listen to you now? What makes you so certain that this isn´t another fucking dead end?"
Tightening her grip on my shirt, Bella wailed, "What if they are still alive, Edward?" Looking at me through stormy mocha eyes, Bella pleaded with me to give the detectives a chance to explain. "What if we ignore this and something happens to them? Or worse, what if they´re hurt and we don't help them? For all we know, they could be somewhere suffering from memory loss or something."
Leave it to my girl to be the voice of reason. Pulling back, so I could look her directly in the eyes, I asked, "Are you sure, sweetheart? I don´t want you to get your hopes up only to be crushed again when this turns out to be nothing."
Ignoring our present company, I ran the pad of my thumb across her cheek to catch a fallen tear. For longer than was probably considered polite Bella and I engaged in a silent conversation. And when we were done, I had my answer. "Marcus, Demitri, I apologize for my prior outbursts. I know that you´re only here to help, but this is by no means easy for us."
"I understand, Mr. Cullen," Marcus said, speaking for the first time today. "I can assure you that we´ve thoroughly looked into this, and nothing has been taken lightly. Facts have been checked, rechecked, and rechecked again to ensure that we not cause you both any more pain than necessary."
"Okay, so you have our attention," I encouraged, confidently speaking for the both of us. Bella was glued to my side, wide-eyed, taking it all in.
Nodding my head, Marcus continued. "Like Demitri has said on more than one occasion, things just didn´t add up. For instance, our initial assessment of the crash was that it was an accident, but after getting all the components of the plane that we could recover from the wreckage back to the lab, we´ve discovered that the whole thing was, in fact, staged. And we believe your grandfather was instrumental in making that happen."
"Grandfather," I spat nastily, "If you mean, Eleazar fucking Cullen, that son-of-a-bitch is no relation to me," I growled, causing Bella to shiver at the mention of that bastard´s name. "If he was behind all of this, I want to know, and I want to know right now!"
Goddamn it!
I should have killed that fucker when I had the chance!