We spend another three months near Inuvik. At first the two of them accompany me on every trip into town, Jasper poised like a coiled spring in case anything goes wrong. But gradually, it gets easier, just as Alice promised it would. The thirst still rages. I have to hold my breath for long stretches, which makes it impossible to talk to anyone, and I have to hunt immediately after. But slowly, things improve.

My new goal is to give Jasper and Alice some privacy. I am painfully aware of what they've forgone by being here at my side for so long. "It's all relative, Bella," Jasper assures me. "After this long together, a few months is sort of meaningless." But I feel the guilt keenly, and so I work hard at acclimating, and after a few more weeks of chaperoned trips, I swear that I am capable of going to the movies for the evening by myself. Inuvik's one-screen theatre has only been open a week, and Jasper frets that it will mean too many people in an enclosed space. Alice sits quietly in front of the fire for a while, thinking about my plan, until a slow smile spreads across her face. "Jazz, it's okay."

They both fuss over me like new parents, making me promise that I won't breathe as much as possible, and run if I have to. Alice squeezes my hand tightly. "I'll be watching," she swears earnestly, "If anything changes, we'll be there."

I roll my eyes at her with slightly more confidence than I feel. "Don't be watching too closely." I poke her in the arm. "That is definitely not why I am trying to leave you alone."

Alice winks at me. "Bella, I am an awesome multi-tasker."

The evening is a qualified success. I don't remember anything of the film, because I have to concentrate so very hard. Every muscle in my body strains, and I break off one of the arms on my brand-new theatre seat, tucking it guiltily under the seat in front. The willpower it takes is extraordinary, but the pride I feel as I leave and run home more than makes up for it. I will not be a monster, I have not relinquished my soul.

My "graduation" is the annual Inuvik Muskrat Jamboree, a four day celebration that includes muskrat skinning, log sawing, and dog-team races. The whole town turns out to welcome spring, and after three days of festivities surrounded by hundreds of people Alice announces we can finally leave the frozen north.

Though it felt like a prison at times, I find I am sad to see Jasper close up the cabin. It's the only home I've known in this life, and I'm so uncertain about the future that I don't want to leave it behind.

We run south at night through the Yukon, and I'm staggered at the distance the two of them covered a year ago to bring me to safety. Jasper makes me stop every hour to hunt. I feel overfed and disgusting, like eating a Thanksgiving dinner on top of Christmas lunch.

We time it to reach Vancouver after dark, and make our way through the outer streets carefully before checking into a hotel. The feel of a city is completely different. I'm over-sensitized, itchy, raw. Jasper and Alice retreat to an adjacent suite. I can hear people in almost every room in the hotel. It's distracting and disorienting. I click on the television to try and drown it out.

The gleaming chrome and marble bathroom is like an alien planet after the cabin and its rustic outdoor tub, and I am struck dumb by the mirrored wall. This is the first time I have seen my new reflection, and I am absolutely unrecognizable. My hair looks like something out of shampoo commercial, falling in dark, shiny waves over my shoulders. I strip hurriedly out my clothes, staring in appalled fascination at my strong, pale limbs and flawless opalescent skin. I press one palm against the glass, and this stunning stranger lifts a hand up to press against mine. My eyes have taken on the Cullen's familiar golden hue, and I'm so glad to have missed seeing them when they were red.

I pull the hotel bathrobe around me and drag an armchair over to the sliding door, spending the rest of the night with my bare feet propped up on the balcony rail, watching the street lights unfolded in front of me, listening to every note in the symphony of the city.

Alice books us night flights to Chicago for the following day.

Being back in civilization agrees with Alice immensely. I start to realize what a sacrifice it has been for her to be so isolated. She disappears first thing and returns to the suite by late afternoon laden down with shopping bags and boxes. Two bellboys trail her into the room, equally burdened.

"I really, really wanted to take you, Bella. But I thought it would be fastest this way," she says as she unzips a brand new, empty suitcase on my bed, and starts hauling brightly colored clothes from the shopping bags and clipping the tags off them as she packs them into the case. "You were going to protest a lot, and we don't have that much time. Plus, there's still New York." Cosmetics, shoes, underwear, hosiery, all neatly stowed in the bag. Finally she tosses a pair of designer jeans in distressed denim and an unbearably soft grey cashmere sweater at me. "Here, these are for the flight."

I'm at a loss. "What are you talking about? What is all of this?"

Alice looks at me like I've left my brain in the Yukon. "Duh, Bella. Clothes. You weren't planning to bring lumberjack chic to Chicago were you?" She waves at the dishevelled pile of plaid and wool, and the filthy pair of boots, that I've abandoned on the bathroom floor in favor of the hotel robe. To be honest, I hadn't given it the slightest thought. Now that I realize what she's done I start to poke around in the suitcase. Absolutely nothing I just watched Alice pack looked like something I would wear, but Alice swiftly zips the Samsonite closed and wheels it out of the room. "No time, Bella-bear," she calls sweetly over her shoulder, "Let's not miss our flight."

Jasper and Alice argued on the way here about whether we should fly or not, but to be honest, being shut in the aircraft with all these people doesn't seem any more or less uncomfortable than going to the movie theatre. I hold my breath, close my eyes and feign sleep, and before long the bright lights of Chicago are rising up below us.

Alice sprints ahead of us from the gate, every muscle visibly straining to force herself to move at a human speed, and suddenly the crowd parts a little and I see them. Alice has leaped at Carlisle, arms thrown around his neck, and Esme's whole face is lit up with joy. I stumble a little and slow down. Jasper turns, and I plaster what I hope is a convincing smile across my face.

He looks at me apologetically, something like sympathy crossing his gorgeous features, and I realize only now that some small part of me still assumed Edward would be here.