I stood at the door to my father's bedroom, warring with myself about entering. Never once in my life had I been allowed into this room. Charlie was gone, and I had to go through his belongings. I knew there were important documents I needed to find, and there might be some information about my mother or other family I may have. I wondered if I would find old love letters or pictures, or if he had really gotten rid of everything that summer.

Alice stood behind me patiently. She sensed my trepidation.

They had not found any trace of my mother or any other family yet, but it had only been two days. In the meantime, Dr. Cullen had convinced my social worker to let him take temporary custody until further arrangements could be made. He had also taken it upon himself to find out what happened to my mother. The family apparently had many contacts and resources for this kind of thing, and he was confident he would make some kind of progress. I was hoping I could find something in this room that would help.

Alice and Edward had taken time to help me pack up things I wanted to keep, and decide what would be sold. There wasn't much either way as we lived a modest life. I had been spending some time at their house, but insisted on sleeping in my own bed. They had done so much for me already, that I didn't want to intrude on their privacy any further. While they were a wonderful family, there was still something odd about them that I couldn't quite put my finger on and it left me with a lingering unease. I had a crazy theory that they might be guardian angels. They were ethereal and otherworldly, and they all shared the same strange eye color though they were not biologically related. Leading me to consider this insane idea was that they seemed to be intent on protecting me, and it was this family that rescued me and stood by to help me through the aftermath.

"You don't have to do this, Bella, if it's too difficult. I could go through it for you, or if you need more time..."

I shook my head, cutting her off. "No, it's ok. I need to do this." I flashed her what I hoped was a confident smile and willed my feet to move forward. It's just a room. I told myself.

Standing in the middle of the room, I decided to start simple. I headed over to the dresser and began rummaging through the drawers. There wasn't anything in there besides a small amount of clothes. Next was the nightstand which hid nothing more than a Bible and some other miscellaneous books. I checked under the mattress, and there was nothing. Disappointed, I decided to head into his closet. Edward came through the bedroom door with his arms full of empty boxes.

"I thought you might need these." He set them down on the bed.

"Thanks. Everything in the room can go, I just need to go through the closet and I'll be done."

Alice and Edward started throwing clothes in the boxes, and I stepped inside the closet. It wasn't that big, just enough for me to stand inside. There weren't many clothes hanging in there, so I pulled them down and tossed them onto the floor outside the closet. Then I tossed out his shoes on top of those. A couple of blankets were folded in the corner and I went to toss those out of the closet with the clothes, but underneath them there was a box. This was what I was looking for. I promptly sat down in the middle of the closet and pulled it towards me, staring at it like it would bite me.

I bit my lip and ripped the tape off the box, opening the flaps quickly. It was packed full of all kinds of papers. So I started sifting through them. Deed to the house, titles to the cars, bills, birth certificates. I paused when I saw my birth certificate, slowly reading over the information, my fingers tracing the raised seal. There was more paperwork, but nothing that held my interest, until I reached a manila folder. I was about to open it when I noticed Alice standing at the door to the closet.

"Hey Bella? I have some things I need to do, so Edward is going to stay with you tonight."

I glanced over at Edward and his brow was creased. "Oh, that's not necessary. You both have done so much for me already, you don't have to stay. Just go and do whatever you need to, I'll be fine." It was embarrassing to think of Edward being forced to take care of me. I frowned.

"It's not a problem Bella. I don't mind, really. Maybe we can watch a movie or something?" He sounded almost interested in spending time with me, and gave me one of his crooked smiles.

"Sure, whatever you'd like." I shrugged, though a grin quickly spread across my face as I turned back to the folder.

I couldn't explain my strange fascination with Edward. There was just something there that pulled me in. I knew there was never any hope of reciprocation on his side. However, I could enjoy the time I was able to spend with him. He was intriguing and surprisingly wise for his years, and I wanted to dive into his mind and explore for hours. I felt that if we could ever break through the walls that seemingly divided us, we would find a strong connection between us. It was unexplainable, one of those things you just feel.

I gently opened the folder. The first document was my parents marriage certificate, and my mother's maiden name was now revealed to me. Higginbotham. I stifled a giggle. Of all the absurd names, my mother's maiden name was Higginbotham. Well, that shouldn't be too difficult to trace, and I hoped that she had indeed resumed use of her maiden name, since nothing could be found of Renee Swan. I solemnly laid the certificate on the floor and continued to sort through the rest of the documents.

Divorce papers.

Scanning the dates, I realized that was what happened the summer I was fifteen, when my father disappeared and then, upon his return, wiped my mother out of lives completely.

Then I understood his behavior that summer. Marriage was sacred. The vows he made to her were irrevocable, sworn before God. The idea of her wanting a divorce was unimaginable to him, as she would always be his wife, even if they were no longer living together.

I took some time to read through the documents and found that he had granted the divorce on one condition.

My strangled cry brought Edward running to the closet. "Bella? Are you ok?"

I stared at him in shock as I realized what my father asked of her...what my mother did.

"What is it Bella?" He was beside me now, and I handed him the papers that were shaking in my hands. After he'd had time to scan through them. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, reaching out to grasp my shoulder. His mesmerizing topaz eyes found my own plain brown ones, and he saw there were no more tears. Now my eyes burned with fury.

I always assumed something tragic had happened, most likely that she had died. I never imagined that she simply signed away all rights for me, effectively abandoning me to my father, knowing exactly how I'd be forced to live, what I would be forced to endure. She could have fought for me, she could have saved me. Instead she traded my life for her own freedom and happiness. The newspaper clipping that was still laying in the folder showing that she had traded me, for a new husband. And now I had a new name for Dr. Cullen to trace. I would find my mother and her new husband. The anger I felt for the three years after she left me had dissipated after I assumed she died. I forgave her. I had to. But now, knowing that she cast me off like last year's worn out coat, anger was not a strong enough word for what burned inside me. Fury. Rage. How dare she get a happily ever after while I was stuck in an everlasting nightmare. How dare she enjoy comfort in another's arms when I'd been left to suffer alone.

The contents of the box were crammed back inside of the box and I moved it to my room along with the other pieces of my pathetic life that I would be keeping.

Bitterness. That was a new flavor. One I had tried avoid through the years, always trying to make the best of what I had. Always accepting that things were as they were for a reason. I was abandoned to an unknown world now, and I was bitter. I sat on my bed and basked in it. My brain thought of all the spiteful things I could say and do to her to hurt her. Forgiveness was a concept I'd forgotten in the corner of my father's closet.

Eventually Edward ventured into my room to tell me he had ordered pizza. He wanted me to pick a movie. I followed him downstairs, but I don't remember much else. I seethed, and he watched me, concerned, but understanding. At some point I fell asleep and that was the night the nightmares began.

A young brown haired woman was sitting on a swing hung from an ancient tree. Her hair flew out behind her as the wind rushed past. Her smile infectious, her laugh contagious as the blond man pushed her. The sky was bright blue, the sun blazing overhead. A picture perfect scene, until you looked into the shadows. There was a girl, her brown eyes wide and frightened. Her skin pale and stretched too thin over her delicate bones. Pain and anguish twisted her face as she tried to reach the happy couple. Vines bound her to the edge of the dark forest and she could not escape. Red welts covered her arms and legs from where she tried to escape. The girl's deafening screams and pleading cries unheard by the couple that were lost in each other's eyes. Blood splattered the grasses below the girl, mixing with the salt of her tears. "Mother" The girl's screams continued until her voice rasped in whispers.

I bolted upright, covered in sweat, my throat raw. Strong arms wrapped around my torso and smooth velvet murmurs whispered past my ear. The movement of his lips against my hair soothed me as I crashed back into reality.

He held me in his lap and attempted to soothe the whimpers that I could not quiet. I vaguely thought that I should be enjoying his embrace, but the pain of my mother's betrayal ripped a hole through my chest that overshadowed anything else. I fought sleep until nearly dawn, when I finally gave in as the first slivers of light began to thread their way across the horizon. Then I slept, dreamlessly, peacefully, and I woke five hours later, still in his arms. He never left my side, and we didn't speak of it. I excused myself to go shower, and when I came downstairs again, he had breakfast waiting for me.

After I finished eating I entered the living room to face the last piece of my past that needed to be dismantled. The altar. It had not been touched since that Sunday. The only piece of that set up that I considered keeping was the family Bible, though part of me screamed for it's destruction. Unsure if I would regret burning it, I decided to keep it until I knew for sure what I wanted to do with it. So I took it up to my room and placed it in one of the boxes.

When I returned to the living room, Edward was standing in front of the table draped in white linen. "Do you want me to get rid of this for you?" He asked quietly.

"It's just a table." I murmured, removing the candlesticks and handing them to him. "These can go in the trash." I turned back to the table and removed the linen cloth, following him to the large black trash bag and shoving it inside on top of the candlesticks.

Sensing his eyes on me, I turned back to the living room to find the braided leather of the whip clutched in his hands. It was kept in a lined box under the table and I had exposed it when I removed the cloth. Edward's jaw was clenched and his body trembling with rage. His once amber eyes suddenly black and frightening. The police had already gotten rid of the other pieces my father had, since they had been laying in the open in the living room when his body was found. This was the last of his instruments of torture, it was the whip he reserved for me. I flinched from the expression on Edward's face, but then steeled myself and returned his gaze with my own determined stare. We regarded each other for a minute before he stalked out of the house.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, the broken door of the closet caught my eye where it was propped against the wall. It had been ripped from the hinges, splintering the wood. That struck me as odd since they could have just unlocked it from the outside. I stared into the closet that had been my prison every Sunday since we moved here. Every house we lived in had one and it was nothing remarkable, nothing anyone else would even look twice at. The next family that lived here would most likely keep their winter coats and vacuum in this closet, never realizing that it once was used as a cell for a young girl who had no other choice but to submit to her father's will. There was blood on the wall. My blood. There had been no one here to clean it this time. I headed to the kitchen for a sponge and poured some bleach in a bucket of water. When I faced the closet, I halted at the threshold, my panic spiking at being in that tiny space again. Letting the anger take over, I pushed the fear to the back of my mind and knelt before the wall. The anguish of those days I huddled in this dark space washed over me anyway. I began scrubbing the wall, and as the blood began to fade, the tears escaped. By the time the wall was clean, I was sobbing. The bleach and my tears trying to erase the pain, but nothing could scrub away the invisible reminders that would remain with me as long as I lived. This life was not something you could forget, it would always be there bubbling beneath the surface, reminding me of what was stolen from me.

I felt his arms around me again and he dragged me from the closet. "Enough Bella. It is done."

As soon as I could quiet my sobs and breathe without shuddering, I stood up and went to the bathroom to wash my face. When I came out of the bathroom, he was waiting for me outside the door to my room.

"I'm ready." I told him and he nodded in understanding. We loaded the few boxes that held my possessions into the bed of my truck and locked up the house. I followed him back to the Cullen house. Alice met us at the front door with a sad smile as if she had witnessed the entire night. Maybe Edward had called ahead.

"Carlisle is waiting for you in his office." She hugged me briefly.

I headed up the stairs with the cursed box, and set it on his desk. He regarded me for a moment before standing up and coming around his desk to embrace me. A father's embrace, something I had never known.

I pulled away reluctantly. "Everything is in here."

"What did you find Bella?" He asked gently and my eyes flashed with the fury still raging in me.

"My mother," I spat the word, "signed away all rights to me in exchange for an easy divorce so she could marry someone else."

"I'm sure it's not what you think." I cut him off with a glare.

"See for yourself, it's all there in black and white."

"Did she know?"

"She knew, and she didn't even try to fight for me." The venom dripping off my words. Then the floodgates opened up and I told him everything.

"When my father decided that no church was holy enough for him, he took matters into his own hands. He slowly became more controlling through the years. Everything my mother and I did was watched and dictated by him – what we ate, what we wore, how we spoke. Did you know that I had a time limit in the shower? If I spent too long in there it meant that I was touching myself too much. Everything was a sin in his eyes. If I ate too eagerly then I was gluttonous, if I ate too slowly I was enjoying my food too much. There was nothing but school and chores and prayer. Then Sundays changed and I was suddenly plunged into a nightmare. We were forced to wake up at three in the morning, sometimes earlier. We were allowed nothing to eat or drink. We had to confess our sins for the week and he decided how many lashes we deserved. If he thought we did something more than what we confessed, he added to the total. How many lashes do you think an eleven year old girl can take the first time she feels a whip biting into her back? Can you even imagine the terror I felt? Can you imagine any mother who would stand by and watch her daughter be bloodied and beaten by the very man who is supposed to love and protect her? She never once tried to stop him. After he whipped me, I was locked in a tiny, dark closet for the rest of the day. Nothing to eat or drink, blood left to cake on my bruised flesh. I was a child!" I screamed. Thankfully Dr. Cullen didn't try to calm me or touch me, he knew I needed to get this out.

"She stopped hugging me. She stopped cooking and cleaning. She wouldn't even talk to me, no matter how much I pleaded with her to take us away. Then one day she was gone. She left without me and I never heard from her again. I was twelve years old and I had all the responsibilities of school and the house, in addition to being whipped bloody every Sunday. I slipped into quiet acceptance. What else could I do? So I played the part he wanted me to. I learned to steel myself against the pain, and I never cried out again. I embraced it. It was the physical manifestation of the emotional agony I had been left with. Sundays ceased to exist for me, whatever happened on that day was forgotten as I went to sleep that night."

I had stopped yelling, the rage melting into quiet fury. "Then...then when I was fifteen and I thought my mother had died...he never told me what happened, he just got rid of everything that reminded him of her. This crucifix is the only thing I had left. I thought my mother was dead and this," I ripped the chain from my neck, "was all I had. He thought that a symbol of God would comfort me when my own mother had abandoned me? God abandoned me long before my mother did." I scoffed. "That was the year everything changed for me. I abandoned my father's beliefs and found my own way while still playing the part and biding my time until I could escape."

I met his eyes with my own. "You want to know why I never told anyone? Why I never tried to leave? At first they had scared me into believing that I could never tell anyone because I would be taken away and made to live with strangers, or worse, in an orphanage. Then later, he managed to convince me that what I had was better than the unknown. He played on my fears and insecurities, kept me secluded. We moved so often that I never had time to learn to trust anyone enough to say anything. I mean, after being abandoned by your own mother, would you willingly walk away from the one person you had left? My father clung to his religion, to his God, with every fiber of his being, because it was all that he had left. And in turn, I clung to him, because he was all that I had."

"And now I learn that she went on with her life and started a new family. She never came back for me, never tried to rescue me or fight for me. Maybe she even had more kids with her new husband. What did she do to deserve her happily ever after? What did I do to deserve all this?" I flung my hands up hopelessly.

He was beside me again, holding me as fumed. My skin was on fire and I was panting from my rant. "Bella, you didn't do anything. You didn't deserve any of this. I'm so sorry." He tried to comfort me. Slowly, all my emotions faded away, and I was filled with an eerie calm. It was almost like slipping back into the numbness I was so used to, only I could still feel the rage bubbling below the surface.

"Did you know that he never hugged me?" His arms tightened around me. "Alice was the first person to hug me in years." I stated blandly.

"We will find her Bella, if you are sure that is what you want?"

I nodded, and he released me. The absence of his touch making me feel suddenly hollow. "I need to be alone." I whispered and I knew he understood.

Placing one foot in front of the other I left the safety of his office and retreated to the looming forests that surrounded their beautiful home. I found a tree that had fallen and sat on the trunk. I needed to come up with a new plan. Everything about my previous plan hinged on me being eighteen. But at seventeen there was not much I could do, as I was considered a minor. Would I be allowed to go to her considering she gave up all rights to me? Did that change now that my father was dead? In order to do anything, you had to be eighteen. I couldn't even rent a hotel room. Slowly, I formulated a new plan. It was not ideal by any means, but it wasn't as if I had much of a future at this point anyway.

I'm not sure how long I was out there, but I was startled by the clearing of a throat. Alice. I had not even heard her approaching.

"How are you?" She asked softly as she traipsed across the forest to join me on the tree.

"I've been better." I said, forcing an insincere smile.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched me. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find her." I answered honestly.

She nodded, unsurprised. "When are you leaving?"

It was I who was surprised that she had somehow known what I was planning. She shrugged.

"When I know where she is." I whispered.

"What if she doesn't want you? Where will you go?" Her voice quiet and resigned, no hint of her usual exuberance.

"I'm not sure. That's something I'll have to figure out when it comes up."

"You won't wait until school's out?" She asked, though she already knew the answer.

"No." I breathed more than spoke.

Alice's eyes glazed over in a faraway look and we sat in silence for a while. She suddenly twitched, bringing my attention back to her tiny form, her eyes watching me intently.

"You should go. I'll help, but you have to promise me that you will call if you need anything. We'll always be here for you."

Her declaration was confusing, but I nodded. Not sure of how another teenager could possibly help me, but I trusted her. "I promise."

"Come on, let's go back to the house. I'll take you out for dinner, just me and you."

I followed Alice back to the house as she flitted gracefully over the debris littering the forest floor which caused me to trip on five separate occasions. After a quiet dinner with Alice, we returned to the house, and I insisted on sleeping on the couch, not wanting anyone to be put out by giving up their room. Everyone retired to their rooms, except Edward. He stayed behind playing the piano softly as I drifted off to sleep, and when I woke screaming from my nightmare, he was there to comfort me as he had the night before. I wasn't ready to go back to sleep, so we sat in darkness on the couch and talked for hours.

"Tell me about your childhood Bella. What is one of your best memories?" He asked softly.

"That's easy, baking with my mother. Every Saturday was baking day. We would start the dough first thing in the morning, each with our own aprons and mixing bowls. I usually ended up with more flour on me than in the bowl, when I was younger at least. We would sing together and she would tell me stories from her own childhood. Elbow deep in dough, the methodical kneading was therapeutic. Kind of like working away the troubles of the past week. The scent of yeasty dough rising, then the smell of fresh baked bread that permeated the house. It was a sense of accomplishment to pull those loaves out of the oven, knowing we were providing for our family. Sure, it was easy to pick up loaves of bread at the grocery store, but baking the bread was an experience. Not to mention, it tastes so much better. Charlie usually spent his Saturdays fishing, so it was just us two, and it was nice to spend that time together."

Edward smiled down at me, as he was still holding me. I felt safe, and right, curled up against him. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"How about you?" I asked. "Do you have any memories of your mother?"

His brow creased, and pain flashed through his eyes, before a breathtaking smile broke out on his face.

"Yes I do." He replied quietly. "Cookies. My mother loved to bake as well, and she always made sure there were cookies in the house. Every day when I would come home from school she would have some sitting out for me. We'd sit down together at the table and share them while I told her about my day. The house, and my mother, always smelled like fresh baked cookies. It was comforting."

I watched his face as he answered, the delight of the memory made his eyes twinkle. "What was your favorite cookie?"

His expression clouded over for a moment, as if he had a hard time remembering. "Sugar cookies I think. Simple, but with a hint of lemon. At Christmas time she would decorate the tree with them, like ornaments. Of course she would bake more every couple of days because my father and I would eat them off the tree. She would scold us lightheartedly, but that was what they were there for."

"Sounds nice."

His eyes met mine. "What about you? What's your favorite cookie?"

"I'm not sure. I honestly don't ever remember baking cookies, and I haven't had any to eat in years. Your mother's sugar cookies sound nice though."

"You never baked cookies? Not even for Christmas?" He asked, astonished.

"We didn't really celebrate Christmas." I shrugged. "Maybe as a small child, but I don't remember what it was like. Once my father started delving deeper into his religious ideals, we stopped. The Christmas season was about the birth of Christ, and the traditional celebrations had too much root in paganism and commercialism. We prayed, and fasted instead."

Edward frowned, and began running his fingers through my hair. He suddenly stiffened and dropped his hand, releasing me from his embrace.. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just realized that I didn't ask..."

"Edward, it's fine. I don't mind. It was nice...comforting." I smiled warmly at him. I enjoyed his affection. For a little while, I could believe someone cared about me. It filled a need in me that I didn't realize was missing.

He moved to stand up. "Well you should get back to sleep now. I didn't mean to keep you up. I should get to bed too."

"Sleep well Edward."

"You too Bella."

I watched his retreating form as he headed up the stairs, then curled into the side of the couch where he had been sitting, inhaling his scent greedily. It wasn't cologne or even fabric softener from his clothes, it was unique, indescribable, and it was delicious.