A/N: I'm acknowledging all of your reviews before I start rambling:

Thanks go out to:

HermioneLF,
sovoyita (you should all check out her story, 'Blinding Lights', it's so good),
CallalillyAngel,
Bloodredeclipse (the reason Bella freaked out with the basketball team was because one of them said 'great shot' and that triggered the gun memory)
modernxxmyth,
xo-harlequin girl-xo,
ericcaxx,
Luvntwilight,
Horsefreal01,
TwilightNerd,
bouncestep of thunderclan,
babygirl71,
Charmed Chick4,
waterdemon9,
FindingEdwardformyown,
IceWouldSuffice,
RAWR.cookie.,
XXLilPixieCalledSTRADXx(no Aimee, clingfilm will not be used as a murder weapon in this story lol good idea though)

I have tried to keep this as realistic as possible, Bella's past and her condition have happened to many other people and I was actually surprised that this story has touched some of you. Bella's condition is real and is extremely hard to recover fully from, some people never regain the ability to talk and some never interact with any other person. Her 'recovery' so far is actually based on a true story that I learnt about a while ago from a friend. According to professionals, having strong or familiar memories can either increase the condition or make it fade away, so in this case, for her to interact with Edward makes her mind bring back pleasant memories of her youth instead of conjuring bad ones.

The drama is far from over and I'm bringing in 'him' now, this chapter is a little more… darker than the others because some of it is from Phil's POV. Also I have no idea how police stations work so this is based off the one episode of Law and Order I watched months ago.

Sept 3rd 5pm Forks' Police Station

Charlie Swan

I couldn't believe it. Almost ten years of being subjected to that… it was inhumane, sickening, unforgivable.

Swerving sharply to avoid hitting the trees lining the road, I decided that driving without a coherent thought was not a good idea. Calming down, I finally took in my surroundings and turned off the highway to go to the station.

I knew Bella was safe at home. Edward had always been a good friend to her before and we had never gotten any trouble from the Cullen kids. I was still extremely anxious to get back to her.

The worst part was the fact that I had only found out about Renée now. At the night of the incident, I had gotten a call to say that an armed robbery had taken place at the house and that my ex-wife had been killed. I was distraught that she had died but was shaken by the fact that Bella had been in the house during it. Now, from what Edward had told me, she could have been in the same room.

I pulled the cruiser aggressively into a spot outside the door and stormed out.

"Hey Charlie. What's got you in so late? I thought you asked Mark to cover you so you could go home early this week," John sat behind the desk, waving at me as I walked in. He quickly stood up once he noticed my anger. "What's happened?"

I ran my hands through my thinning hair and took deep, calming breaths.

"I need to see if I can start an investigation on a suspected murderer. I have information that he physically and mentally abused his wife and stepdaughter. I also know that he is a known alcoholic and drug user."

Mark nodded and took out the keys to the back rooms. He keyed in the code to the new door lock we had fitted a few months ago and unlocked the grill. I slid it back and pushed open the door. Walking past the empty cells to the back rooms, I felt that I had to bring this… psychotic maniac to justice. I sat down in front of the computer and picked up the phone.

"Downtown Phoenix station"

"This is Police Chief Swan from Forks, Washington. I have evidence against a Phil Dwyer from your area, that he committed a murder and physically abused his wife and stepdaughter. I want to ask for an investigation."

I tapped my fingers against the metal table and waited for the officer to process the information.

"We will see what we can do and send any information to your station. For information, do you know who Mr Dwyer killed?"

I inhaled sharply and switched on the station's computer.

"His wife. Renée Dwyer."

"We'll launch the investigation as soon as possible and be in touch soon."

I put down the phone and tried searching any files for information. After hours of searching all I could find out was that he played for a minor league team before moving to- I froze and scrolled down.

Phil Dwyer was last seen a week after his wife's funeral in Phoenix. He then transferred to a team in Seattle to be closer to his stepdaughter who currently resides with her father since her mother's death.

I choked and slammed my fist into the table.

He was in Washington, only a few hours away from here.

I quickly searched all minor league teams in the Seattle area but none of them had anyone by the name of Phil Dwyer.

I groaned in frustration but then something hit me.

He knew that he would be out eventually.

The only person who knew was Bella. If she told anyone then he knew he would be in trouble.

He had changed his name to avoid the police.

Sept 3rd An apartment in Seattle

Phil Dwyer

It was too easy.

The law enforcers in this money-run country were too easy to fool.

A couple of phone calls and a few thousand dollars later, I had a new identity, a new look and a new job. The system was too easy to con.

It was even easy to fake a recommendation from one of the top sales companies in the country. They even used to have an employee who had the same name as me and looked like me. All I had to do was waltz into the office, shove the paper in front of their faces and joke about how my old 'boss' used to enjoy talking to my new one.

I had secured the first six months rent on the apartment using cash. I never used cards or cheques; their too easy to trace. Good old cash never leaves a mark, and plus my landlord was easy to buy. A couple of grand and I had his word that he had no clue when I was here or when I wasn't; just in case someone came along to question him.

All I had to do was lie low here for a few weeks, gain a reputation as a nice, warm-hearted salesman and then go for a little visit to Forks.

The girl was cracked enough that I had faith in the fact that she wouldn't open her mouth for a while. But then again. I'm never one to take chances. Her mother was the result of that.

The woman had somehow grown curious over the years as to why an old name-tag that I had forgotten to throw out had 'Kevin Hill' on it. She eventually snooped around and found out that it was my old name. Once she had found out that, she had to go.

It was only a matter of time before I disposed of her. She was getting on my nerves and her daughter was a piece of filth. They constantly got in my way and didn't tell enough people what a wonderful and supportive man I was.

Renée even commented on my drinking habits. The woman doesn't even know what else I did and she complained about my drinking?

The girl was just as worse, I hated her from day one and she hated me. I managed to intimidate her though, eventually. She realised it was wise to do as I say and avoid me otherwise.

The police in Phoenix were easily fooled. I had managed to get the gun covered with DNA from a wanted criminal in the area who was already on the run. When they found the weapon after I called them, distraught with what had happened, they came and immediately knew who had touched the gun. I had magically happened to be wearing gloves every time I handled the gun.

I sat in my apartment, waiting for the delivery. Once the bell rang I got up and made sure the television was on.

A tall, thin guy stood there in the uniform of the local pizza place. He held the box in one hand while squinting at his order sheet.

"One large, extra olive for Mr Enton?"

I smiled broadly and let him in. He went and put the box on the table and opened it. I pulled out the cash and swapped it for the gear. He then thrust a large envelope at me, muttering, "Your sides."

I took it and let him out, glancing around to make sure no-one was there. No chances were taken. The same employee of the local pizza place always delivered to here. He kept quiet and was discreet about exchanging the drugs and any other things I needed. Like this envelope for example.

I opened it up and examined the contents.

Perfect.

Inside was a detailed map of Forks, the high school and the area where the girl lived. Photos of the town were given to familiarise myself to it. I knew that as the weeks past, I would be supplied with more information.

It was the standard procedure. An amateur would go straight in without the right knowledge, get caught, and then be sentenced. If you had any experience you would wait, that was what the people supplying me were looking for. They had to find out if I was trustworthy and experienced, otherwise their cover would be blown.

I looked at the maps, memorising every street, every turn, every place. I then looked at the photos, matching every street corner and every shop. Some people thought that this was unnecessary but it was crucial. I had to know everything. I never knew if I had to ask the employee at the clothes shop whether he knew of one of the girl's friends or if I had to stop for gas and dig around the gas station for any information. Every piece mattered and every clue would be used.

Satisfied that I had successfully memorised as much as possible, I pulled out a six-pack of beer and settled down in front of the television. The phone rang at exactly ten-thirty, as expected.

"Hello?"

"Hey Frank, it's Sam. Sorry to bother you so late at night. The meeting for tomorrow has been cancelled and been rescheduled to next Monday. I'll fax you over the details soon. You don't have to come in tomorrow as you were meant to be out of town."

I smiled.

"I'll come in anyway. Can't let the team down. There's a huge project starting soon and I want to do all that I can do."

"You do too much around here as it is. I'll see you tomorrow then. Have a good night. Bye."

I hung up the phone and turned off the television. I picked up the cans of beer and brought them back into the kitchen. Hiding the gear and dumping the half-eaten pizza, I made my way into the bedroom.

I had managed to get one of the newly built apartments near downtown Seattle. If I rented one of the cheaper ones in the suburbs, then it would be like hanging a giant neon sign over my head. The police always looked in those for criminals. Also they usually had shorter rent periods which would indicate the person not wanting to stay for too long. Staying in one of the more luxurious blocks, and having a six month lease, I put out the idea that I was a wealthy business man working in the area.

I lay down in bed and went over tomorrow plans in my head. I wouldn't get another pizza delivery for a few days but I was getting the computer tomorrow, another plus. Soon I would have access to the Internet, and the use of one of the most sophisticated hacker systems available on the market.

A/N: That's the second part, short, I know. Just so you know, I'm making Phil up so don't think he's real or anything. I have no idea what's out there but so far he is fictional. Review and tell me what you think. It would be brilliant to surpass yesterday's record of 12 reviews and hit the 65 mark.