Grace sat there on Edward's knee, tugging on his copper hair gently. She looked more like a three year old than a one year old. And of course, she didn't recognize me. None of them did. Which was for the best, I guess. Not that it didn't hurt to see them all look at me unknowingly. Alice introduced me to the rest of the family, and it hurt more to see their frowns deepen at the mention of the Volturi. She assured them that I wasn't one of them in the sort of way they thought. Edward hardly looked at me, but the others, especially Grace, stared at me like a science experiment. And I stared back at her. I think Alice noticed me staring, and mistook it for curiosity about her originality. "So… how did you come to get Grace?" I ask, clearing my throat, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Well…" Alice smiles, and they all look at her fondly. Edward hugs her closer, almost protectively. "I don't know if you were with them by then, but the Volturi got her - we don't know how exactly – and due to the blood and the heartbeat, they couldn't keep her, so Aro got in contact, and…!" I stare at her wordlessly. I hadn't even considered that it would be the Cullens to adopt her. It was better than any stranger, I guess. And Edward was acting like her father. I tried not to get upset at that. How could I let them know? If they hate me, how could they want to keep with my daughter, if it meant staying connected with me? Would they think differently of her? I'd have to see.
"And as you can tell, it seems she has taken a shine to the family. Edward never leaves her side," Esme smiled proudly at them.
"Can you read her mind?" I blurt out, before thinking it through. I can't be blamed, though. Seeing them together like family is perfect, in the wrong way.
"How would you know about that?" He asks sharply, speaking for the first time.
"I-I.. Aro told me about your powers." Good save.
"No, I can't." He replies rudely. "I can't read yours, either." The first sign of emotion - other than anger – show up on his face. A sadness, the same, glassy eyed look Alice had earlier.
I had not thought of that. Would he have recognized me already, by my mental silence? Or something else, maybe it's obvious, and they're all bluffing. "It's my invisibility, my mind always appears invisible, unless I wish otherwise." Which was partly true. They were different powers.
"She can think people to flames!" Alice smiles, as if boasting. It didn't get the reaction she expected, but it was the one I expected. They all silenced, and I could feel tingles of the atmosphere on my spine. Distrust. Resentment. Fear. I didn't know if Jasper was projecting, or if I had just become quite intuitive. The room was still.
Suddenly, Grace struggles out of Edward's arms, slowly and timidly, like a mouse, and she totters toward me. I stare at her with wide eyes, threatening to fill with tears at any minute. Does she recognize me, accept me? "Grace," Jasper says, trying to take her back, but Rosalie stops him and watches, a slight smile on her face. Grace reaches out to me, expecting to be held. I oblige with shaky hands. I grab under her waiting arms and hoist her onto my knee. Instead of sitting there, she stands on them and looks into my face. I keep my hands around her for balance, but she reaches out to touch the bare skin of my cheek. It's like that first day again. The first connection. She knows who I am. Her voice resounds in my head, Mom. And then I don't hear anymore. I gasp, and hug her lovingly. Then, she's out of my arms. She's in Edward's arms, at the other side of the room, staring confusedly at me. I can feel my eyes filling, ready to overflow, but never do. It stings like mad. I can't vent my sadness. It's trapped in me.
"Edward," Esme chides. "It isn't the first time people have had a reaction like that to her. She's an angel, as you've said. Remember Rosalie? Mary here meant her no harm," Who? Oh, me.
"I don't trust her, Esme. And I have no problem with saying that aloud, to her face." He growls. Then to me: "You get that? I don't trust you, and I would rather you didn't interfere with our family. We've went long enough without another vampire around, and-"
"Edward!" Esme gasps, looking embarrassed. Rosalie glares at him, while the rest stare at me apologetically.
But it's too late. My worry and sadness has turned to anger. "So now she's your family?!" I yell, standing up and taking the too-defensive. I was going to carry on with "So where the hell were you last year?" But when the family's heads whip in my direction, I mumble, "I thought you adopted her." Nobody answers me, and there is a long silence where everyone expects someone else to speak.
"I think us Cullens are all due to hunt," Carlisle mumbles, looking around the room at his family. They all nod slightly, not looking anywhere in particular, especially not near me.
"Mary, your bedroom will be the third on the left upstairs, we'll be back soon." Alice says quietly, slipping out of the room with the others. Edward is the last to leave, with Grace.
"She hunts with you?!" I ask incredulously. Sure, I knew she drank blood – my blood – but I didn't think of her hunting, not this young. Edward doesn't answer, but instead leaves the room. When he leaves, Rosalie returns. I watch her stupidly, worried. Rosalie never liked me as a human, and now I'm someone else.
"I'm sorry," She smiles apologetically. Yes, she smiles at me. "We're all a bit tense right now, if you understand. We have a psychotic vampire hell-bent on revenge for her dead lover, seeking out a 'dead' girl Edward loves," She laughs ironically, looking right at me, right through me. "We're going to her funeral tomorrow, if you'd like to come. I suppose she means something to you?"
I clear my throat, eyes wide. Rosalie knows. "How do you know?" I ask.
"Mary Sparrow? Marie Swan, perhaps?" She laughs, though it's not mocking or cruel now, it's almost friendly.
"What else do you know about me?" I whisper. Whatever she knows seems to have changed her opinion of me, will it change the others' too?
"I know you're scared." She smiles again. "You're afraid to tell anyone else, about how they'll react after going to your funeral, how Edward will feel about you, since he left you, and has an adopted daughter. You think he's not interested? The only thing that has stopped him killing himself was having the responsibility of looking after Grace. Then again, any one of us could've looked after her. That was last year, when he left you and we first got her. Now that you're 'dead'? I don't know if he'll cope."
I stop what I was about to say, shocked by what she's saying. But I don't know if I can trust her. "You say that Grace is his adopted daughter? Who decided that?" I ask suspiciously, either very angry - or pleased - with Aro, or very worried about what Edward knows.
"Oh, Aro did. He called Edward to go, and the rest of us went. It's just because Edward is alone, and because she looks most like him, what with the… Oh!" She gasps as she understands. "Bell- Mary, I really should get in the habit of calling you that, for now. Mary, tell me exactly how you got to be with the Volturi." She says solemnly, though a hint of a smile is on her face.
"They found out about Grace. They knew that I knew about... vampires, and they offered to help me with her… birth. When I awoke after she was born, they'd changed me. They found out that I wasn't yet thirsty, meaning it would be stronger when I was, so they sent me away to deal with Mom and Dad…" My eyes go watery, "And when I got back, she was gone. Aro had sent her to be adopted – by you, obviously – and he then found out that my thirst and anger are channelled into my powers, rather than desperate hunger. I became his assassin, and now I have only two more jobs. Victoria, and then the Volturi. He used information about Grace to bait me, manipulate me to do his bidding, and it hasn't been forgotten." I say, as simply as I can. Rosalie has a shocked smile on her face. It takes her a moment, but eventually I think she's going to speak.
"I always thought she looked like you, in a way. And she recognizes you?"
"We have a strange Mother-Daughter bond, it was reconnected earlier. So yes, she does. She called me Mom." I give her a watery smile.
"Jasper said he felt something, but he wouldn't tell us anything. I think you'll have to have this conversation with Alice and Jasper again soon; there's nothing he won't tell her – in private. Then she'll be here, wanting answers. Though I doubt he could get your true identity from your feelings, unless you're really projective." She sighs, and smoothes out the creases on her jeans. "So now you need to decide what to do?" She says it like a question.
"Nothing. You know, Alice and Jasper will know soon, and… I don't know. Nothing, for now." She scowls at me, like she's not happy with the idea, but says nothing else about it.
"…So yes, Mary. I don't want you antagonizing my family again. We've let you in, given you a room, and offered you help on your mission. Can't you be thankful?!" She yells suddenly. I'm startled, but she winks, just as the door opens and the family walk in. They stay silent, and Rosalie focuses all her attention on shouting at me. I don't listen, I only nod when I need to. Grace and Edward walk in last again; his eyes are trained on me instantly, widening as Grace walks toward me, then clambers up onto the sofa beside me. She doesn't need to touch me this time, I can hear her thoughts. She tells me all about her time without me, as though it was a holiday rather than separation. Edward is in nearly every memory. He's an amazing father. My shoulders shrug as my breathing hitches, and forgetting them all, forgetting everything but her thoughts, I bury my face into my hands and start dry sobbing. I can't believe I missed so much of her life already. It's only been a year, but she's seen and done so much. I can't believe that the family has become so strange; her real father thinks he's her adopted father, and everyone thinks me – her mother – to be a stranger.
I hear Jasper mumble "Maternal instincts," so I'm guessing they all looked to him for my strange behaviour. I stand up, holding Grace, and I place her gently in Edward's waiting arms. He gives me a cold, distant look, but I just smile sadly, and twine a strand of chocolate brown hair loosely around my finger, before letting go and walking away upstairs.
For the rest of the night, I lie on the bed in my room, and wonder. I think about everything that has happened tonight. What will happen, Grace, Edward, everyone. If she didn't know me, I would have thought it better to leave Grace with Edward, and burn to ashes with the rest of the Volturi. But she knows me, she loves me. I can't let her go. And Edward? I honestly don't know. In the end, I start crying again, despairing over what to do.
Sometime later, Rosalie comes in for me. It's time to go to my funeral. How ironic. Nobody asks why I'm coming along, but I can feel that they're all thinking it. This is very personal to them – more personal to me, really – and I'm intruding on their mourning. I can still hardly believe Edward is upset about me 'dying'. It was shocking before, when Rosalie told me about his suicidal thoughts through the year. We all pile into Edward's Vanquish and Carlisle's Mercedes. I'm in the back, beside Grace, in her car seat beside Rosalie. Emmett is in the front beside Edward, and the others are in Carlisle's car. When we approach the church, it looks different from yesterday. Then I realize it, there are lots of flowers. I stare wide eyed, and again, open my mouth before thinking: "I wonder how all these flowers got here since last night?" Not everyone at the service could've have brought a bouquet each, or even two each, there are too many. Edward stiffens in his seat.
"Why were you here last night?" He asks angrily. Tell him the truth, tell him the truth, the truth. Don't lie, Bella.
Of course, I swallow the truth, "I was passing through to evade the werewolves." Grace sighs sadly beside me. She knows that we are going to my funeral, and she understands, to some level. She wants me to tell him the truth. Edward looks at us through the mirror, and his honey gold eyes harden and turn darker.
Suddenly, the car swerves to a stop. "Mary Sparrow, get out my car." He says, fighting hard to keep a calm voice. Rosalie's eyes widen, and her mouth forms a shocked 'O'.
"Edward-!" She starts, but he cuts her off.
"Rosalie, she isn't what she says she is. How can we know?! I can't read her mind, so we know nothing about her. She's messed with Grace's mind. She's messing with yours. She must be the first person you've both instantly trusted. It isn't natural. She comes here, with all these secrets. She's part of the Volturi, for goodness sake! She's coming to this funeral, for a girl she doesn't know! All right, she needs clues. What sort of hunter relies on word from humans to kill another? Why does she want to go to this funeral?! Seriously?! Get out the car." He snarls.
With a pleading look in her eye – a look I'd never have expected to see – Rosalie takes a deep breath to counteract the points in his rant. "Edward. I don't want to say this, but it's the only argument I have, and it's right. You can't read Grace's mind, and you trust her. You couldn't read Bella's mind-" He blanches, and looks almost grey skinned rather than alabaster. His hands tighten on the steering wheel, and there is a loud creek as the metal under leather and plastic moulds into a new shape. Rosalie played a rough card – "and you trusted her enough, well, let's not go into the things you trusted her enough to do…" The gearstick is gone with a crack, the steering wheel has a gap where he's split it. She's tearing him apart with guilt, "And don't you think it's possible that Grace knows her? That I know her? Bella might have known her, you don't know, because you left her. And about Mary's secrets, Edward? Don't you have secrets? Or are they free-for-all? Can I tell Mary? I suppose she knows... Just because she won't tell us things about her life, she's turning us against each other? Mary might want to go to this funeral to see people she once knew. Mary, stay in the car." She stops, but only for a second. Enough time for me to see the cunning glint in her eye. "No, actually, get out the car, and take what is yours. You don't need to stand for his crap. Not after everything else."
There is a minute of tense silence. Rosalie is smiling sweetly at me, knowing she's put me in a position to be exposed. So I was wrong to trust her… sort of? She did help me sort things out, but not in the way I would've liked. This probably wasn't the best way to confess a delicate matter; on the way to my own funeral. Actually, I'd quite like to disappear. But I don't. It won't do me any good. I have to be brave. I look at Edward. He's got his head on the steering wheel, looking down at his knees. He thinks Rosalie meant handbag, or something. I swallow all my self-consciousness, my worries and fears, raise my head, and begin undoing Grace's seatbelts. In seconds, I'm up and out of the car, holding her in my arms confidently. Then, I continue to walk to the church.
Edward is in front of me in seconds. As scared as I am, I keep my head up high and stare straight at the pits that are in his eyes. Emmett is beside him, too. I wondered if Rosalie had told him anything, since he said nothing in the car, but I guess not. Then the rest of the family are there, too, leaping out of their cars, and joining sides, as it were. Alice and Jasper go to stand by Rosalie, beside me, and Carlisle and Esme stare at us in shock. Esme stares at Grace in my arms, and she puffs up. "The Volturi can't take her back, not after they wanted rid of her. She's a Cullen now," She says, going to stand by Edward. I wonder briefly what Carlisle will do, but I see it in his eyes; he can see the connection, Grace, Edward and I. He knows who I am. He inclines his head to me, without smiling, and he walks away, to the other funeral guests to try warding them away from the argument.
"What are you doing with Grace?" Edward asks, no longer trying to reel in his anger. It flows from him like a waterfall, threatening to engulf me, change me into a weak, frightened Bella Swan, make me hand over my daughter and run away. But it won't. I have to be strong to get what I want. What I need. I go for the lowest blow I can think of at the minute, not caring that I'm about to confess, not caring that it'll wound a suicidal vampire's already unstable emotions.
"Well, considering you're the one that gave me her in the first place?" I leave that to boil for a second, turning into a first-class bitch. But I don't care, not now. I lean toward Grace and gently rest my chin on her head. Quietly, I whisper, half to her, half to Edward and Esme, "No, she's not a Cullen, she's a Swan."
AN: Okaaaay, cliffie? Idk :P I sorta read it detachedly... I wouldn't be a good editor - except spell check; grr! :P - so yes, again, feel free to tell me what you think, honestly. There is nothing I love more than a review that tells me what I've done wrong in the story, or chapter.. as long as you're not mean :P
Okay, I had my English exams today,, yes, nice. NOT. My writing exam, I'm certain I failed it. It was about freakin' gargoyles! The close reading, i did okay in... i think (yn). I know, I know. You don't give a damn. You want to hear about Twilight ;) Well, I'm a merchant of stories, & I shall deliverrrrrr!
Just, please. Please. Don't ask me about Gargoyles. It's not worth it. (:
Rachee (: xxx