I continued with my daily life as usual, finishing off my freshman year at the University of Alberta with my typical perfect grades, engaging in all the usual family activities, but thoughts of Renee were never far from my conscious mind. It was easier with a vampire brain, which could hold so many things at once, to worry about her and make plans to see her in the future, without letting thoughts take precedence.

I wrote letters to her much more frequently than in the past, and continued to get updates from her on a regular basis. At first, these continued to be confident and optimistic. Then, as the weeks passed, the details became more worrying, and the tone more bleak. She wrote a couple of letters that seemed angry and resentful, then her discussion of her health became more resigned. She hated it all: the constant exams and tests, the side effects of her medication, the dreary atmosphere at the oncologist's office. The one thing that she spoke of with any pleasure was Phil's constant patience and support. That didn't surprise me. Phil was a good guy.

It was sometimes horrible, having to hear about what was happening but unable to be there for her. I stood by, hoping I could at least see my mother again, be there to help her through the worst of it. My family was with me through it all. Carlisle monitored the progress of her disease, which was even more dire than I'd feared. The cancer was advancing rapidly, and nothing seemed to have much affect.

At last, the time came when the end was inevitable and close. "She'll probably be hospitalized before long," Carlisle explained. "The doctors are suggesting mostly palliative care from now on."

"You mean, there's nothing further they can do, apart from keeping her as comfortable as possible?"

"Exactly." I felt an arm around my shoulders, accompanied by Esme's clover-and-almond scent, as she moved to my side and hugged me protectively. "If you would like to arrange to be with her, this might be the time to start making preparations." Edward moved to my side, taking my hand.

I nodded. The others began moving quietly toward the dining room, and I followed, embraced on both sides as I walked. Carlisle stood beside Esme. "What needs to be done?" he asked the family at large.

"Plausible travel arrangements," Jasper offered. "I don't think you actually have to go to Africa and return from there, but we should make sure there is a flight she might have been on. She should probably travel by air to Seattle - it would be expected that she'd stop to visit Charlie on the way - and fly from there to Phoenix."

"I think you should write to your mother, telling her you're on your way to Arizona. Don't give travel details, just say you're coming."

"I'll do that right away," I nodded.

"You need a good supply of coloured contacts," Alice said. "I'll get those today. Make sure you have plenty with you at all times. You might be sitting up in the hospital for days, and you don't want to run short."

"There's the question of her appearance," Rosalie said. "Bella's supposed to be pushing thirty. Can we pull that off?"

"I think so." Alice looked me over critically. "A more mature hairstyle would go a long way. Speaking of which, Edward, you're supposed to be over thirty yourself. You're going to have to bite the bullet and use product while you're visiting Renee. Your usual hair is way too youthful."

"I can manage that," he said, although I mentally sighed at the idea putting his beautifully unkempt hair under restraints, even temporarily. Jasper gave me a quick smirk, evidently picking up on my reaction, and I made a face back at him.

"It's Bella her mother will be focusing on, I imagine," Esme said.

"True." Alice looked thoughtful. "We should get you a wardrobe of slightly more mature clothing. Can you spare a few hours for shopping, maybe tomorrow?"

"If you think it's necessary."

"I definitely do. You should dress just a little bit matronly, too offset your looks. If you were human, I'd suggest cutting your hair."

"That's not happening," Edward said.

"No, of course not. But putting it up..." She deftly coiled my hair into a twist on the back of the head and held it in place, studying the effect.

"That's good," Rose told her. "It adds a few years."

"Yes. Okay, after the shopping, get in some practice with hairpins. Also makeup."

"Makeup?" I wrinkled my nose slightly.

"Not that you need it, but it'll give the impression you're hiding something. Crow's feet and such. And it also looks a bit more mature, or at least different from the last time she saw you."

"I suppose so. New clothes for Edward too, then?"

"Definitely."

"What about Nessie and Jacob?" I turned to where they stood, together at the foot of the table. "Are you still planning to come along? It's not strictly necessary any more."

Nessie looked up at Jake. "I want to go. I still want to see her while I can."

Jacob nodded. "We're going. We can arrive at different times, if that makes things more believable."

"Not necessarily," Emmett told him. "Bella and Edward could have, maybe, come back from Africa, stopped off to visit Charlie, and met up with you two while they were there. Jacob and Ness might've offered to come along for moral support."

We all looked at each other. "That works," Rose said. "Nessie looks the right age now, I think, but what about Jacob?"

Alice studied him. "Late twenties, he's supposed to be. You should get a haircut, Jacob. And maybe different clothes. You look too much like a college student."

"I am a college student," Jacob pointed out.

"But you should have a different cover story."

"Auto mechanic?"

"That'll do. Nessie could still be in college, though."

"You should work out your cover story between you before leaving for Arizona," Jasper advised.

"Will do." Jacob looked at Nessie. "How old does Renee think you are now? Twenty, twenty-one?"

"Twenty. And don't forget she knows me as Vanessa."

"What else?" Rosalie asked the group.

"The sun. Bella and Edward will have to make sure they can stay indoors during daylight hours," Jasper said.

"Arrive in Phoenix in the evening, just after sunset," Alice said, "and try to establish evening and night visits as the norm. Maybe, like Carlisle said, taking the night shift with Renee, and going back to your hotel before dawn to, supposedly, sleep during the day."

"If your visit extends into the day, or if you end up staying with your mother around the clock," Carlisle added, "you will have to stay on until the sun sets."

"Have some clothes on hand," Alice added, "just in case of emergencies, that you can use to cover up. Long sleeves, big hat, sunglasses. It won't hold up to scrutiny for long, but it could at least get you from the house or hospital to your car."

"For that matter," Esme said, "check in advance and see if your mother's hospital has underground parking."

"Good idea." I quickly ran through all this in my head. "It seems tricky, but possible."

"You'll have to stay alert," Jasper told me. "I know the situation will be...distracting, but you have to be aware of anything that might draw attention. I'm sure Edward can help with that." Edward gave my hand a squeeze.

"Try to stay accessible by phone," Carlisle advised. "Alice can contact you if she sees any difficulties arising."

"I will. How soon can we leave, do you think?"

"A week or two, I would estimate," Edward said. "We have to allow a reasonable time for us to have discontinued our work in Africa, packed up and arranged for a flight home. Then, the time it would take to stop in Washington to see your father, gather up Nessie and Jacob, and book a second flight to Arizona. It will also allow time for your letter to reach your mother before we show up."

"Good. I'll start getting ready."

We all looked at each other once more. Apparently that was all for now.

I began by writing a brief note to Mom, telling her I was coming to Arizona as soon as I could settle things and arrange a flight home, and sending it by courier to our contact in Africa. I didn't provide details, so she wouldn't be expecting me at a particular time, or try to have Phil pick me up at the airport. Tomorrow would be shopping with Alice for my thirty-year-old's wardrobe. Edward went to the computer to check up on Arizona weather patterns, and to scan for recent events in Djibouti, just in case we were asked.

I went up to Edward's and my room to start the preliminary packing. At least underwear didn't have to be replaced by a more mature version. I packed a first layer in a large suitcase, and added some traditional African clothing and handicrafts we'd once bought, just in case. Renee would expect at least a few souvenirs of our time there. After than, I seemed to be at loose ends for the moment. I stood looking out the window, making plans and going over possible situations.

From downstairs, I heard Alice and Rosalie agree to go shopping for the men's travelling clothes, which they seemed to find a simpler proposition than my own, that would require my actual presence. Emmett and Jasper announced they were leaving to hunt. Edward was discussing the trip with Jacob and Nessie, Esme making useful suggestions as they went.

I wandered down the hall, intending to return downstairs but for some reason stopping at the open door of Carlisle's study. I went in, my eyes going first to the wall of books behind his desk - I'd actually read a few of them by now - then turning to look at the array of paintings that set out his life story. The first time I'd come here, Edward had taken me through the first part of the display. Now I was familiar with the entire wall, including a few new paintings which had been added since my arrival.

After the large portrait of the Volturi with Carlisle came other paintings, standing for stages in his life. First was a painting of the eastern coast of the United States at the time he'd arrived, stowed away on a ship; and an old pen and ink sketch of the interior of a nineteenth century hospital. It didn't look very sanitary. After that there was a long pause, chronologically, before the first painting denoting the appearance of Edward in his life.

Most of Carlisle's family were represented by landscapes. A lithograph showing a pleasant residential street in Chicago of 1910 stood for Edward's human life, and the occasion of his meeting with Carlisle and everything that followed. Beside it was a small, rough pencil drawing of a hospital morgue, which I now knew had been sketched by Carlisle himself.

Next was a beautiful landscape of rural Wisconsin in the fall, Esme's final human home and the site of her momentous encounter with Carlisle, next to a tiny pen and ink sketch of a tree - presumably representing the one Esme had once fallen from. It was accompanied by their marriage certificate in an ornate frame, merely a preprinted official form on yellowing cardboard, which had been filled out by the minister who had married them many years earlier. This was followed by a watercolour interior, showing a dim room with a piano in one corner, the lonely piano representing the period when Edward had gone off on his own for a time, leaving an empty space in the little family.

Rosalie's appearance in the family was next. A lovely pastel drawing of a Rochester, New York neighbourhood in the winter showed her home city. Beside it was one of Carlisle's very few copies, as opposed to original paintings: a small print of John Collier's The Child Bride. I'd never heard an explanation of the Collier print, but I knew Carlisle still felt some remorse over his decisions regarding Rosalie. Close beside these was a watercolour of the woods of Tennessee, where Emmett had very nearly been killed by a bear while hunting.

A collection of miniatures, showing scenes from Civil War-era Texas and 1920's Mississippi and various points leading northward, were arranged around a central item, a modern painting of a mid-century diner - the site of Alice and Jasper's first meeting.

A beautiful oil painting of the Alaskan forest stood for the Cullens' friendship with the Denali family. Beside it was an old woodcut of the homeland of Tanya and her sisters, rolling hills with a castle-like structure in the background, and a second image of Volterra representing Eleazar's time there.

My entry into the history was marked by a painting of the Arizona desert I loved. Nessie was introduced through a painting by Nessie herself, showing a dark-haired girl holding a toddler tightly in her arms and looking rather fiercely at some unseen point in the distance. Beneath that was a peculiar painting by an unknown 1980's artist, a memento of our confrontation with the Volturi. It showed a fifteenth century army standing prepared for battle. Nearly hidden in one corner of the formation was the diminutive figure of Joan of Arc, defiantly holding up a shield. That one was a little embarrassing; Edward had confirmed that Joan was supposed to represent my part in the near-battle.

The final image on the wall, at least so far, was a plaque bearing a relief carving on the traditional Quileute wolf totem. Both an acknowledgement of the pack's part in keeping us safe, and of Jacob's new place in our family.

I heard the whisper of someone approaching, and looked up to find Carlisle in the doorway. "I'm sorry. Should I...?" I moved to leave the study.

He smiled. "No, not at all." He looked over my shoulder at the wall display. "Reflecting on family history?"

"I suppose so. I was just thinking how much this feels like part of my history, now. It's strange. It's very different from...you know, from my original family." Even with Renee and Charlie still alive, the human part of my life often seemed like an insignificant prologue to my real life.

"Different in many ways," he agreed. There was a brief pause while I studied the display a moment longer. "Jasper believes you're feeling guilty."

I looked back at him in surprise. Carlisle wasn't usually this direct about personal issues. He let others come to him, if they chose. "He'd know better than I would, probably," I laughed.

"Probably," Carlisle agreed drily. "I hope it's not over the family's involvement in your upcoming trip."

"No! Not at all. It's a lot of trouble but...well, I know I'd do the same for any of you. It doesn't bother me any more." There was a time when I'd been overwhelmed by the lengths the Cullens would go to make my life easier or more pleasant, but that was in the past. My family would do anything for one another, and over the years I'd grown comfortable with that. I'd even learned to appreciate the joys of showering a loved one with immoderate amounts of help and support.

"I'm glad of that." He paused. "If there is any aspect of this event which is troubling you, my dear, I would be happy to help if I can." This was even less typical of Carlisle, and I turned to him curiously. "Forgive me; Jasper thought your reaction was quite emphatic, and extended over many weeks. Esme and I were concerned."

"Oh. I guess I know what he means." I grimaced; this was an unpleasant confession to make. "It's just that, for months before I got that first letter from Mom, I'd been complaining to myself over how much trouble it all was, staying in touch, keeping secrets. I was going to have to find a new story before long, and new excuses to keep from seeing her. I kept wishing the whole problem would resolve itself somehow and then...it did."

"But why should that distress you so? You certainly did not bring this on."

"Oh, I know! It's silly, really. It's just that this solves the whole question so completely. It saves me a lot of trouble. I hate that I was wishing for just that."

"I'm sure you were not wishing for your mother to become ill, to die."

"No, of course not! But...you understand. I was kind of wishing she would just go away, in a sense."

He smiled gently. "'In a sense' makes a great deal of difference. You merely wished for a less inconvenient arrangement with her."

"I know."

"You did, of course, realize she would die one day."

That startled me. "Well...yes."

"Merely being aware of that fact, planning around it, is not a betrayal of your mother."

"No, I know." I looked at the floor, biting my lip. I wouldn't have used the word betrayal, but having heard it, it seemed to fit my mood. "I'm sure it seems silly. After all the trouble I made, trying to stay in touch with her, and with Charlie, you'd think I could put up with a little inconvenience."

"You're not responsible for your mother's condition, Bella. Even if you had privately wished her away, you would not be. If that were the case, how many of us would be guilty of the death of another? It is not always possible to keep our thoughts from wandering in that direction." He smiled at my surprised look. "I once endured a great deal of guilt over just such a train of thought, one that was far less benign than yours."

My eyes opened wider; I could not imagine Carlisle wishing anyone harm. "You?"

He smiled again, and glanced almost imperceptibly downward at the floor. I know what he was thinking: who was in the house that could hear him right now? Jacob and Nessie had less acute hearing than the rest of us; only Esme and Edward were present and privy to our conversation. Apparently Carlisle was fine with that. "When I found Esme, after her fall, and she came to live with Edward and me, she...I'm sure you are aware of the circumstances of her previous marriage."

"Yes, she told me about that." Esme's husband had been cruel and abusive to her; he was the reason she had fled west.

He hesitated a moment. "After Esme had been with us for a time, she and I...very much wanted to marry. However, she was still, technically, married to Charles Evanson. She could not even divorce him at that point, since she was believed dead.
"We could have simply accepted that the marriage was, for all practical purposes, dissolved, and have a second wedding while the first husband was still alive; or for that matter, dispensed with matrimony altogether, as most of our kind do. However, I did not want to offer Esme that kind of disrespect."

I nodded in understanding. Whether or not I found this attitude too idealistic, it was typical of Carlisle.

"Charles Evanson could expect to live for many more years at that point. Moreover, I had come to know that he had been the cause of a great deal of Esme's suffering." His eyes dropped to the floor again. "The kindest woman I'd ever known had been injured and driven to despair by this man, the same man who was keeping us apart." Carlisle looked at me directly. "I hoped for his death." I kept my face impassive. "And shortly thereafter, Evanson did, in fact, die. It was an unexpected accident. My fondest wish was fulfilled, and I was overcome with guilt."

"But Carlisle," I protested, "you weren't responsible for this Evanson dying! It was an accident. You'd never have done anything to hurt him. And besides..."

"I know, my dear, I know." He smiled at me again. "One cannot help but be struck with a sense of remorse in such circumstances. I was merely making a comparison with your own situation. You defend me without hesitation, yet my thoughts toward this person were far less benevolent than yours toward your mother. I am merely urging you to attend your mother's sickbed unburdened by needless guilt." He took one of my hands in both of his, in a familiar, fatherly gesture that always warmed my heart. "You have been a loving and devoted daughter, under trying circumstances. You are now about to pay your final obligation to your mother. Please, allow yourself to do so in peace, and with a clear conscience."

His words went straight to my heart, and I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. If I could produce tears, I probably would have cried. "Thank you, Carlisle. I will. Thank you."

He smiled, pressed my hand once more, and left me alone with his books and his visual history.

Alice and I went shopping the next morning, as planned. Her approach was a little different than usual: normally she worked to make me look chic and gorgeous, but this time she was working on making my cover story more believable. We went to a large department store at the mall.

"You never shop here," I observed.

"The clothes are a little bit further down the quality spectrum," she told me, flipping rapidly through the racks. "But designer labels might draw your mother's attention. Plus we're going for older and just the teeniest bit frumpy, remember?"

"Actually, I'm supposed to have been doing relief work for the past few years," I mused. "Shouldn't I be wearing worn out jeans and stuff?"

"I thought of that," she replied indignantly. "The story is, you dumped or gave away your worn out stuff before leaving Djibouti, so you could travel with just carry-on luggage. Then you bought new clothes when you arrived in Washington. That's why I'm using a chain store," she concluded, handing me a pile of blouses to try on. "You could buy any of these things in a mall in Seattle."

"Alice, how could I have doubted you for a second?" She was meticulous when it came to maintaining the outward trappings of our cover stories.

She grinned and pushed me toward the fitting rooms.

Fortunately it was spring, and possible to buy clothing appropriate for the Arizona climate. Alice found me several pairs of lightweight pants, a dozen or so tops, a dress just in case a slightly formal occasion came up, shoes and sandals. She also chose a new suitcase, my old one supposedly left behind in Africa, and an oversized handbag for carrying emergency cover-up clothing, as discussed. "I should buy pyjamas," I told her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Since when do you wear pyjamas?"

"I used to wear them to sleep in. It's possible I'll be spending the night at Mom's sometimes. I should have something a person would wear to bed."

"True, but pyjamas would make you look so youthful. What about a cotton nightgown?"

"If you think that would be better." I hated nightgowns, but this was a disguise. She found me a couple of sleeveless nightgowns in rather staid designs.

"Edward will love those," she snickered. "Actually, he would love them, if you were wearing them." I made a face at her, but I knew it was true. On a whim, I ran to the menswear department and picked up a pair of pyjamas for Edward as well. An entirely new experience.

"Anything else?" I asked, looking through our selections.

"One more thing." She led me to an area that offered clothing suitable for office work, suits and the like. "We need to get you a black suit."

I laughed. "A suit? What am I going to do with a black suit in the middle of Arizona?"

She hesitated. "I thought you should have something to wear to...well, when it's over. I mean, the whole reason for this trip..."

"Oh!" Something to wear to a funeral. "Yes, of course. That was stupid of me. I guess I almost forgot why I'm going there in the first place." I stood still, momentarily frozen with stress. I was picking out something to wear to my mother's funeral.

Alice put an arm around my waist, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I'm sorry, Bella."

I hugged her quickly. "Which one?" I looked around at the suits. She zeroed in on one, a lightweight black skirt and jacket. "This will fit. You don't have to try it on." She pulled a blouse off the rack to go with it, and found a pair of low-heeled black pumps. She added a wide-brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses. "That should do it."

"Okay." I added it all to the pile.

"I think we're done." We headed for the nearest checkout.

A quick online review of events in Africa and the recent activities of our theoretical relief association was conducted at home, followed by one more hasty briefing with the family just before we left for the airport. Nessie and Jacob flew with us to Seattle, we drove to Forks for a quick reunion with Charlie and others, and boarded our flight for Phoenix the next morning.

The sun had just set as we left Sky Harbor, Edward and I in a rented Volvo with all-important tinted windows, and Jacob and Nessie in an economy car which fit their cover story. We found a hotel in a central location with underground parking. Edward and I took a room on the third floor, while Nessie and Jacob occupied two rooms on the eighth floor - close to each other, but not actually adjoining. Were the separate rooms only for our benefit? I had no idea what to conclude about their actual sleeping arrangements at this point. Edward may have known, unavoidably, but he said nothing about it to me, and I was happier remaining ignorant.

After checking in and stowing our luggage, the four of us gathered in Edward's and my room. We agreed that Nessie and Jacob should put off their meeting for another day, rather than all descend on my mother at once. Edward and I would meet her and gauge her condition first, then at some point Jake and Nessie could go to see her as well.

Finally, fighting down feelings of stage fright, I called my mother's number. Phil answered. "Phil, hi. It's Bella."

"Bella! We got your letter. Where are you calling from?"

"From right here. Phoenix."

"You're already here? I thought..."

"I know, I should've given you some advance notice."

"No, I'm just surprised. Wait, let me get your mom."

There was a long delay while Phil apparently carried the phone to Renee, then a whispered discussion I supposedly wouldn't be able to hear. Then I heard my mother's voice through the earpiece. "Bella? You're here?"

"Hi, Mom." Her voice took me by surprise. It was so subdued. Normally, Renee would have reacted to my arrival with squeals and exclamations. There was a trace of her old exuberance, but it was hidden under layers of weakness and fatigue. "We just got in."

"Edward came with you? Well, of course he did. I got your letter, but I didn't know how long it would take for you to actually arrive."

"Neither did we; that's why I didn't give a date. Sorry I couldn't be more specific."

"Well, that doesn't matter. Can you come over now?"

"If it isn't a bad time."

"Of course not. You remember the directions? Where are you, anyway?"

"We're at the hotel." I named the place. "Yes, I remember. We'll be there soon."

I hung up and looked at the others. "Well, here goes."