Rochester, New York
April 1933

Blood. It's a life force. It runs through so many creatures' veins and when it stops flowing they cease to exist. For our kind it was our life force as well, but while it gave us sustenance it always destroyed a life in the process. It was a vicious cycle of death. Carlisle, Edward, and I compensated by taking the lives of animals instead of humans and in that way were we any worse than humans who ate the meat of cows, pigs, lambs and the like? Animals drained dry to fill their bellies; the difference was that they were less likely to have to meet the animal's eyes before they ate it.

We kept ourselves filled and for Edward and I it was a constant battle to keep ourselves sated enough to resist the throbbing human heartbeats around us. We had to hold our breath at the sight of a cut or turn and walk away at the sight of an accident. Carlisle, on the other hand, would run toward the accident and help without a second thought. Edward and I, no matter how good we became at resisting, always knew that we were just a human taking a tumble and gashing a knee away from disaster.

Every day before he came home from work Carlisle conducted a thorough inspection of his person to make sure he wasn't bringing home any of his work on him. He, of course, was sympathetic to our struggle. He wanted to ensure that we were always comfortable in our own home – that it was the one place where we didn't have to hide and we could be ourselves.

The scent caught in the unseasonably cold crisp air when Edward and I were just a few blocks from home. It hit us both at the same time immediately ending our conversation over the positive and negative attributes of Fay Wray as a leading lady after seeing her that night in her third movie of the year.

We looked at each other through the lightly falling snow and Edward pulled my arm tighter into his. "Let's get home," he said and we picked up the pace. It was late as the movie had been a double feature and few souls were still awake let alone out and about.

I hoped that as we got closer to home we would be getting away from the scent, but as Edward opened our gate a look of absolute horror, far worse than anything Fay Wray emoted in the hand of that giant gorilla, marred his beautiful face.

"Edward? What is…?" The scent was here. It was strong. It was at our home. Carlisle! What had happened? Something was terribly wrong.

"Esme! Wait!"

I was through the front door and Edward was at my back. The home in Rochester was fit for a doctor, but wasn't grandiose. With one passing glance over the first floor I knew he wasn't down there. My eyes fell on the drops of blood on the runner going up the stairs. I flew up the stairs into the dark hallway. The only light was coming from our cracked open bedroom door.

Edward was beside me as we pushed the door open and I was met with a sight that even my vampire brain couldn't fathom at first. What was happening here?

On our bed lay a disaster. It was a scene of violence. It was appalling. It was obscene.

The remains of a young woman lay on top of the comforter and pillows I had so selectively purchased for our marital oasis. Her clothes were tattered and bloody. These weren't the clothes of a beggar who time and filth had caused to deteriorate. They were fine materials akin to what I would purchase for myself. There were welts wherever I could see her flesh and her blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt. I could hear her heart thumping in her chest. Then my eyes studied the face of this stranger and I knew her. I knew her! The woman hailed in society as the most beautiful young lady in all of Rochester, New York; the fiancée of the wealthy young Royce King; Miss Rosalie Hale.

I knew my life was too perfect. My happiness too great. At times I wondered how fate could have allowed me to fall off a cliff and land in Carlisle's arms. Of all the millions of women who had moved through this world during his existence, what made me so special that I deserved him? Maybe it was just an experiment of fate that I conveniently came along so soon after Edward so he changed me too. All I knew in that moment was that he had found a woman more beautiful than I could ever be. As a vampire she would make me look plain and unappealing. I was being replaced.

Edward's arm wrapped around me and pulled my back against him. "This has nothing to do with you," he hissed in my ear.

I looked at Carlisle. He hadn't moved from the chair he had pulled up alongside the bed. His head and shoulders were bowed. His elbows rested on his thighs while his hands clasped one of hers. He looked defeated and broken. I was torn between my yearning to comfort him and my desire to rage at him. How could he do this to me? To us?

"I found her in street. She had been beaten and raped and left for dead." Carlisle's voice was hollow. "I tried to help her, but her injuries were too severe. I wouldn't be able to save her life. I couldn't leave her there. She was so beautiful and young and had so much before her. It seemed like she could have so much to live for. It was too much waste to let her go. It was a split second decision."

And then the scream filled the room. Somewhere inside her the venom had spread enough that she had some level of consciousness and a cry of pain rattled her battered body. I stared at her arm and watched a bruise fade away before my eyes.

"Kill me! Please! Kill me!" she cried out. Her striking blue eyes were open now, wide and pained and pleading at me and Edward. She gasped for air. "I'm on fire! Please! Put it out! Make it stop! Make it stop!" She sobbed. Tears were still able to fall from her nearly violet colored eyes. How soon would it be until they stopped falling forever?

I pitied her. I knew the pain that she felt. The fire of the change was unforgettable. Nothing that Charles had ever done to me or even the pain of childbirth compared to the hell I thought I was burning in when I was going through the transformation. I longed for an end to it and feared that I was in it for eternity. She was conscious and knew her complete destruction, death, would be the only release from the agony that hurt her more than whatever else happened to her that night.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle?" Edward growled. "Rosalie Hale?"

Carlisle's hand tightened its grip on her as she whimpered, her body writhing with the slow torture making its way through her veins.

"I couldn't just let her die. It was too much – too horrible, too much waste."

There was a subtle pause as Carlisle's mind gave way to something that was left unspoken. Edward's hand squeezed my shoulder. "I know," he said quickly to Carlisle.

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," Carlisle whispered, his eyes moving up to her frightened and anguished face.

I felt grief weighing me down and reminded myself that all I had ever wanted was his happiness even at the sacrifice of my own. "Of course you couldn't," I surprisingly heard myself say.

"People die all the time." Edward's voice was hard. "Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put on a huge search – not that anyone suspects the fiend."

For the first time since I had entered the room I tore my eyes away from the scene in front of me to look at Edward. He did this to her? Her fiancée? Royce King?

He nodded once with a look of repulsion on his face. "And others," he whispered.

My hand flew to my mouth. Edward had warned me that his thoughts were less than gentlemanly, but I shooed him off. I didn't want to know about the man's indiscretion. Maybe I could have done something that would have saved her from this horrible fate.

Edward grabbed my chin and made meet his eyes. He slowly shook his head "No," as his eyes told me it wasn't my fault. I went to look away, but he pulled me back into to reaffirm the "no."

He was right. I couldn't have known this girl's fate, and an unmarried man's private impure thoughts were not enough to act upon. I nodded my understanding and he kissed my forehead.

I stepped out of Edward's reach and left the room. The scent of the blood was too strong. The visual was too much. The new thoughts racing through my mind were overwhelming.

I walked across the hall to my office and leaned against the door frame as I flicked on the light switch. Slowly I moved forward into the room and removed my coat and hat that were still damp from the snow. My eyes closed and I took a deep cleansing breath. She hasn't done anything wrong. She's a victim. She needs your compassion.

I crossed to the bathroom and turned on the hot water as it would take a few minutes for it to get warm. I retrieved the basin from under the sink and a new bar of soap, washcloths and towels from the closet. With the filled basin in hand I returned to the room that had been ours, but currently felt undefined with this tragically beautiful girl on our bed. I placed the items on the nightstand by Carlisle and moved to the closet to see if I could find something that might fit her. She had several inches on me. A pair of pants I wore to hunt, a blouse that might fit over her ample bosom, two dresses and a skirt were placed in a pile. I had two nightgowns and I was not giving her the one I wore on my wedding night. I grabbed the other one and my robe, which I knew might be the only thing that fit her. I opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of underwear I had not yet worn. I threw them on top of the pile, carried the load back out into the room and put it down on the chair in the corner.

"Carlisle, we should get her cleaned up. She's been through so much…" I turned and saw that he had already picked up a washcloth and was gently stroking it over the arm closest to him.

Edward, for her modesty you should go, I thought while I gestured to the door with my hand.

"I'll be in the hall," he said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

I couldn't meet Carlisle's eyes. "We should undress her. These clothes reek and the smell will only get stronger for her." The easiest way to remove her soiled clothes would have been to rip them, but I knew the sound of ripping fabric in a fit of violence and I was sure it would ring in her ears.

She flailed on the bed and her eyes shot open again. Their hue wasn't as blue. They were darker purple. She pleaded with her eyes.

"Miss Hale, I'm Esme Cullen. I know you are in excruciating pain. I can't make it go way, but I can promise you that it won't last forever. It eventually will subside completely. You have been through a horrific ordeal tonight and I would like to help you get cleaned up. This is Dr. Cullen…"

"She knows who I am. I explained to her what's happening to her."

"You know then that he's a doctor and he will not harm you or act inappropriately. He'll be completely professional."

She gritted her teeth and bobbed her head before squeezing her eyes closed again.

I began to remove her spoiled wardrobe. What was left of it was draped over her. Every button had been wretched apart. Seams had been torn. I held my breath as my fingers worked over the bloody material. There was bruising that still needed to heal on her chest and torso. I started to lift her skirt to remove her shoes but stopped at the sight of the blood flow that smeared her ripped stockings.

Edward, please run a bath. I heard the water start running in the tub a moment later.

I took off her shoes and left her bottom half clothed while I wrapped a towel around her top half. I lifted the simpering woman in my arms and said coldly to Carlisle, "Burn it all. I'll place the rest of it in the hall after I get her situated."

Edward opened the door from the outside, his head turned away as I passed.

Once inside the bathroom with the door shut, I set her down on the ground and slowly finished undressing her. In a way I was glad that she was distracted by the pain of her transformation, which overshadowed any pain from the brutality that had ravaged her womanhood. The men who did this had to have set upon to destroy this poor girl. I wasn't a person of faith or belief, but if there was a higher power in that moment I asked for her to heal.

She kept her eyes closed. I didn't know if she was squeezing them tight out of pain or if she was trying to shut me out.

I turned off the water and put her into the tub. She didn't resist or even move as I moved to cleanse the filth from her body. As I scrubbed her fingers I could see from her nails that she had clawed at them, trying to defend herself. I tried to be a gentle as possible but also thorough. She cried the whole time. This poor trampled flower…

Edward can you please have Carlisle bring the nightgown, robe and underwear that are in the pile?

The knock on the door made her flinch. I opened the door a tad and kicked the dirty clothes out while taking the new ones from Carlisle's disembodied hand. I could smell the fire burning in the fireplace downstairs.

I got her out and of the tub, dried her off and dressed her. Her body was like dead weight although no problem for me. I was relieved that the clothing fit.

Carlisle stood as I entered the bedroom with her in my arms. The linens had been completely changed. I put her back in our bed and she shrieked. He took the same seat beside her and picked up her hand again. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her.

I went to the closet to retrieve my own change of clothing and swiftly retreated out the door to my study again. I quickly changed and went downstairs to burn my outfit. Edward was waiting for me in the living room.

"This isn't about you, Esme," he stated once again.

"No, it's about her," I hissed.

"He's not in love with her."

"Yet. She's going to be glorious once she is transformed."

"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice rising. "She's not you! Rosalie Hale is not Esme Cullen. She may be the most attractive woman to ever walk this earth, but Carlisle only has eyes for you. You are his wife and you are beautiful. He's distraught and right now I think he is a goddamn fool for bringing her here and for doing this to her, but his heart hasn't gone anywhere. It belongs to you."

I sat down on the sofa. It was all too much.

I felt the cushion lift ever so slightly as he took the seat beside me. He slid his arm around me and both our heads turned upward at the sound of agony from above.

"He's telling her everything," Edward spoke quietly.

"Can she comprehend? Does she understand?" I asked, my voice strained.

"Somewhat. The pain is overwhelming her at times, but she is finding it hard to not listen. She's scared and desperate. She was grateful to you for washing her."

"She cried the whole time," I mumbled

"Wouldn't you? She had already been fatally traumatized tonight and now her body is going through the worst trauma any human can experience. I hope she forgets what happened to her. I hope it erases from her mind."

"It won't. When you have been through something so horrid…when your body has been so completely violated no matter how much you wish to forget, those memories are the strongest. "

"I'm sorry, Esme. The images of what they did to her are brutal and she keeps replaying them like she doesn't want to let them go."

"'They?'"

He looked so grave. "It wasn't just Royce. He had four drunken friends with him."

I knew I couldn't physically become ill, but I felt something akin to nausea wash over me. I remembered how helpless I felt. How any attempt to fight him off was pointless. He was stronger and bigger and when he was determined to have his way with me there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was torture and that was one man making me feel completely helpless. One. Against five men with adrenaline and testosterone, even with her statuesque height, she stood no chance at all. It explained why her body was so grotesque. I couldn't suppress the memory of the damage I saw when I removed her skirt.

I was angry…furious even. How could this have happened to her? Why? I remembered the announcement in the paper. They were marrying soon. Why would Royce King destroy her? Who else would he destroy? Was he that certain that she was dead when he left the woman he was supposed to make his bride next week broken in the street? He knew that she would not survive to accuse him. He and his friends mutilated her and killed her. For what? Would death have been better for her? The mental anguish she would have to live with would be terrible. I knew of its horrors, but I had Carlisle to help me through it...

I was furious at Carlisle, too. I understood his compassion. I loved him for it, but he brought this stranger into our lives for what? Why her? What was the attraction? Why was he so compelled to bring her into our lives for eternity? Edward's words of assurance held little value. She would be beautiful, elegant, and I was sure she was bright. She was younger than me by quite a few years. She would be glorious and in need of his help and guidance and I would just be Esme.

I wasn't angry at her though. I felt so sorry for her. Her life and the future she thought would come with it had been robbed from her. Would she have rather died than face the fate before her? For all the endless possibilities this life gave us it was also limiting. It was a blessing and a curse. I woke up to a dream come true. What will she have? She doesn't know us and the one near encounter that we had with her proved that she didn't care for us from afar. Of course my dream may be turning into a nightmare at that very moment and maybe he'll be her dream come true.

I heard her cries through the floorboards and drifting down the stairs.

I could understand Carlisle's reasoning for changing Edward at Elizabeth Masen's urging. I could understand him changing me, a face he knew, conversed with and treated as a patient. This made no sense at all. Too much waste? Waste of what? Her beauty? Her youth? How many patients had he lost before of similar stature? Why her?

Edward rubbed my arm. "I'm furious at him too and the whole situation. His head is focused on her, but not the why. We're going to have to leave here soon. She's too recognizable. We're going to have to get far away from Rochester. She's probably missed already."

"I'm sure her mother is wondering why her daughter hasn't come home. She's hoping she fell asleep somewhere or is with a friend or with her fiancée. Anywhere but dead in a ditch, but she is dead. She will never see her daughter ever again."

I had walked away from my family. I had abandoned them for the sake of my child – to protect my unborn baby. She had no choice in this at all. She would never be able to see her mother and father again. They weren't deceased like Mr. and Mrs. Masen or let go of like my parents. They were alive and living somewhere within this city and worried about their daughter.

I could hear Carlisle speaking to her. He was explaining what was happening and what she would become. The word "sorry" kept appearing in his speech. If he had to apologize that much then why did he do it? I don't remember that man being sorry with me.

"He said it quite often with you, too. Even though she is bad shape, she was only dying. You should have been dead. You didn't even come around completely until the change was finished. He explained it all to you, but you couldn't hear. You were trapped in your body and your head. You would scream at times, but you thought you were in hell. He apologized every single time you screamed and inside his head, his thoughts were begging that you would forgive him for what he had done. He is asking for forgiveness now. He's…" he trailed off. I looked at his face as he searched or maybe he was focusing on Carlisle's thoughts.

"He's what?"

"…hiding something," he said slowly.

"He is in love with her…"

"Esme, stop letting your mind wander there. It's not true."

I felt even more doubtful. Carlisle rarely hid anything from Edward.

"So what do we do?" I asked with a sad sigh.

"We wait."

The next day was gloriously overcast after the snow. By 9:30 a.m. I was out the door on my way to Sibley's department store. She would need lots of clothes.

It has been a grueling night. Edward sat with me in the living room as we listened to the cries and screams and Carlisle's lessons and pleas for forgiveness coming from above. Edward practically pushed me out the door.

"The transformation probably won't be complete until at least tomorrow, but I'll stay just in case. We're going to have our hands full with a newborn vampire very soon. As mad as I am at him, I won't leave him alone with her. Take the car."

Behind the wheel of the Packard, I made my way through the streets with my hat low and my coat pulled up high. It was still cold and few people were out for a Saturday morning in April. I hoped that I would make it through my outing without running into a colleague of Carlisle's or one of their wives.

I parked the car and ducked into the store on Main Street and passed the counters of cosmetics, handbags and jewelry to access the stairs to the second floor. Once there I systematically made my way through the departments picking out clothes that would fit her and would be appropriate for her newborn stage. I also tried to find things that were somewhat fashionable for a lady of her age and stature. I was sure Miss Hale was a fashionable creature and the last thing I wanted was to garner ill will for a mousy dress.

I stockpiled pants and shirts and several dresses. I moved on to coats and sweaters then sensible shoes, a pair of boots and one pretty pair of heels. I went up a flight and picked out undergarments. What would she want? She was young. Would she want something on the frilly side – pretty and perky? Would she want something plain and dull after the attack on her? Maybe she wouldn't want to wear something that would be alluring to the opposite sex. Although undergarments had changed through the years, there had always been some with a little lace or frill that made it more attractive than just a necessity. I was never drawn to those until I had Carlisle in my life. Even before we were engaged I found myself choosing the prettier ones. I didn't know if he would ever see them, but knowing that I was wearing them made me more confident.

I picked out all plain ones and handed them to the girl helping me, satisfied in my choice, but as I passed a display of nicer lingerie on the way to the counter I relented. I picked up a few attractive brassieres and underwear to add to the pile.

After I paid, I returned to the street level. It was much busier than it had been when I entered. I picked up hosiery, sunglasses, gloves, belts and hats. I slipped out a side door onto Clinton Avenue. I was carrying what I knew was too many bags for a woman my size. I had to pretend to struggle a little with the load. No one was chivalrous enough to help me. I loaded up the car and took my place behind the wheel. When I was a few blocks away, I turned left instead of right towards home. I wasn't ready to go back and face what was happening there.

I turned again and again, taking a path away from the university. I drove and drove until I spotted an area that I could pull off overlooking the Genesee River. I turned off the car and sat there staring at the flowing river in front of me. The water would never flow from me, but at that moment the floodgate of emotions opened and I sobbed. I had never felt such despair in this life and I let it pour out of me.

An hour went by and I knew I had to get back to my house of horrors.

Edward wasn't on the first floor when I carried the shopping bags into the living room. I stopped and listened. It sounded like Edward and Carlisle were wrapping up a conversation. I wondered if my return ended their talk.

"What are we going to do with her?" I heard Edward ask, the concern and worry present in his voice.

Carlisle sighed. "That's up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way."

"Not at first. She's too frightened to be alone. "

"I will impart upon her everything that I know about this existence."

"It's more than an existence, Carlisle. It's a life. A life you created. Don't let that slip your mind."

"I know what I have done."

"No, you can't even begin to understand what you have done. Your wife just arrived home. I'm going downstairs to see her. Maybe your mind should stop screaming to the heavens for penance and start thinking about Esme's feelings and the explanation she deserves."

A moment later Edward entered the living room. I threw my arms around him and whispered, "Thank you."

Edward comforted me in his arms and said, "You have vowed to me repeatedly that you would be whatever I needed you to be. Today I return the favor."

The end was near by late afternoon the next day. Her bruises had melted away and Edward said that the rhythm of her heart indicated that it was it was attempting to pump the venom and blood. Soon the venom would win and freeze her heart forever in silence.

I still felt completely discomforted by this scenario that I could have never foreseen.

I had clothes laid out for her. I knew it may take several attempts and destroyed garments before she was dressed.

Carlisle stayed by her side, still holding her hand as her heart slowed.

Edward held my hand as we stayed several feet away from the end of the bed, ready to jump into action if she tried to flee, or worse, attack.

Her heart faltered, but then beat. It did the same thing of falter then beat. I anticipated another beat, but was met with silence.

"Miss Hale," Carlisle said gently.

I could see her open her eyes. She sat up and without a glance in Carlisle's direction her eyes met mine. They were deep red and she was heartbreakingly beautiful and I felt alone.

Author's Note

What do you think of Esme's reaction to Rosalie so far? Please review and share your thoughts!

Thank you for your reviews! I loved reading your reactions to Royce's appearance in the last chapter.

Thank you to my pre-reader, December LeNoir, and my betas, sweetishbubble and batgirll8968.