I'm so sorry for the delay, guys! I have no excuse to offer except, life gets in the way. I realize I have probably lost some readers due to the long silence, but I would appreciate a review or two. Or possibly more.

I'm going to try and update sooner in the future. That said, on to the story, and i hope it was worth the wait. Next chapter, things are really going to start heating up and coming to a head.

Charlie's POV:

I stumbled to the coffeepot on autopilot, hardly able to register the floor under my feet. I'd gotten all of four hours of sleep last night.

I'd lay in bed listening to Bella scream herself awake, then stumble down the hall and throw up in the toilet.

The first time I jumped up and had my gun out before I was fully awake. Racing down the hall to Bella's room, I flung open the door. Only to find her huddled in a ball on the floor beside the bed, shaking with terror. I tried to comfort her. I really, really tried.

It hadn't worked. Helpless, I could only go back to bed. She wanted to be alone – it was written in every line of her body.

She'd been home for a week. This wasn't working. I didn't know what to do. It was almost like when…he'd abandoned her.

The blaring of the phone shattered the silence. I jumped, the sound cutting through the fog surrounding my head.

"'lo?"

"Chief Swan, it's Dr. Cullen. I hope I didn't wake you?"

I glanced at the clock, irritated with the man for calling so dang early. 8:00…oh. Good thing it's Sunday.

"Uh, no. Not at all." I tried to sound alert and failed.

"I was calling to discuss Bella, actually."

I frowned, carrying the phone and my coffee to the kitchen table. "You were?"

"Edward has expressed some concern as to how she's been handling everything. Alice has noticed as well."
I rubbed my forehead. "She isn't handling it, Dr. Cullen. I thought it would fade, but it's only gotten worse."

He made a soft sound of sympathy. "She's lost weight, I've noticed."

"She can't eat. When she does, it doesn't stay down. She doesn't sleep, she sees shadows jumping out of every corner…"

He sighed. "Charlie – may I call you that?"

I murmured assent. "Charlie, I know what you must be going through. But honestly, from one father to another, she's not going to just recover from this. I've seen this type of trauma before."

"What do you suggest?" I finally forced out past the lump in my throat.

"I want your permission to take Bella home to live with us for awhile. Some of my adopted children came from traumatic situations before they came to us, and I believe they can help Bella."

My gut reaction was No. Absolutely not. I don't want her anywhere near that boy.

The pause stretched on too long. "Charlie, I assure you the kids will be well-supervised. Esme and I are capable of handling things. I'm sure you know what I mean."

I blushed even though he couldn't see me. "I trust you," I said quickly. "I just…I want to help her. I don't want her to go."

I sounded like a small child. I really needed some sleep.

"I understand," he said again, his voice full of empathy. "I honestly do, Charlie. But she can't go through this much longer."
Screams filled my mind. Bella's screams. Bella's nightmares.

"She'll be ready to go by lunchtime."

"We'll take good care of her, Charlie. You have my word."

I stared at the phone in my hand, after hanging up. Would I be able to live in this empty house alone again? Not come home to a hot supper and a smile? Just knowing someone else lived here was enough to get me through every day a little easier.

I could do it if it would help Bella. I couldn't handle it if she sank back into depression again.

That would destroy both of us.

"Bella?" I hated to wake her, but it was already ten. She needed to get packed. The lump under the covers barely stirred.

The phone rang downstairs – hesitating, I turned and hurried down the stairs, diving for it just before it stopped. "Hello?"

"Charlie?"

"Yeah, Mark, I'm here."

"You okay, man? You sound out of breath."

"Sure. What do you need?"

A few minutes later I hung up and dialed another number. "Hello, Dr. Cullen? It's Charlie."

His answering greeting was kind but confused and a little worried. "Is there something wrong?"
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Sort of. I got a call from up in Seattle – gang activity resulted in multiple homicides. They're calling in backup officers, and one of my deputies and I have to go up there. I was wondering…I know it's a lot to ask, but could Esme come and help Bella get ready?"
That my daughter needed help preparing to stay at the Cullen house spoke volumes. She'd spent long weekends all the time with her best friend Alice.

"Of course," Carlisle's reply was instant and warm – not that I'd expected anything less. "Esme and I will be right over."

"I'm about to throw some things in a suitcase and be gone," I said, "I can't be back for at least a week."

"We'll take good care of her, Charlie."

I sighed. "I know, Dr. Cullen. Thank you."

I just wished it was me she wanted to look up to.

Carlisle's POV:

Esme and I were there right after Charlie's cruiser disappeared down the road. We exchanged glances, neither of us needing words to express what was on our minds.

Esme knocked loudly. A few moments went by and no one answered. When a second knock failed to get a response, she pushed the door open and we went on inside.

"Bella?" I called. "Bella, it's us – Esme and Carlisle. Where are you, sweetheart?"

No answer. I could hear her heartbeat upstairs – it was slow and steady.

"Asleep," I murmured to Esme. She nodded – she'd heard it too.

I started to climb the stairs, but she put a hand on my arm. "Let me, dear. You stay down here."

I pressed a quick kiss on her lips. "Call if you need me."

She disappeared around the curve of the stairs. Wandering into the living room, I found myself facing a row of pictures above the mantel.

My lips quirked up as I studied Bella at two, glaring at the camera with arms folded and a pout on her rosy lips. There she was again, about four this time, holding a teddy bear that was bigger than she was and smiling brilliantly. Eight, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere but looking into camera lens.

Eleven, dressed in an impeccable school uniform. I frowned a little, leaning in closer. I could see it, even at such a young age, even through a picture. Her eyes were tinged with maturity, testifying to a soul older than her years.

How old was Bella before she was forced to become the adult? I wondered. Bella had told us little about what life in Phoenix was really like, and Edward had only filled in a few of the blanks. But meeting her mother in the hospital in Phoenix, after James' attack on Bella…I could well imagine Bella being forced to step in and give an adult's care to her mother.

Fourteen-year-old Bella looked solemnly into the camera. She didn't look unhappy, just serious. And far older than a teenage girl ever should.

"She's an old soul." Renee's words flashed back at me, and I agreed. But what had made her that way?

Thoughtfully, I turned away from the pictures and sat down on the old couch, resting my elbows on my knees. Some anxiety was to be expected, with the trauma Bella had gone through at the bank. But the days had stretched on, and her paranoia was only increasing…something deeper was going on here.

The gunman had only been a catalyst. Whatever was happening to my adopted daughter – for I fully thought of her as such – had a much deeper root.

Sounds on the stairs drew me to my feet. But my smile of greeting died on my lips as Bella came into view.

Esme had brushed her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, but it looked limp and tired. Bella's eyes were half-closed, exhaustion pulling at her lids. And I could see very clearly how much weight she had lost in just a few days – weight that had taken us several weeks to get back on her thin frame.

Esme supported her gently, keeping an arm around her shoulders so she didn't stumble. In her other hand she carried an overnight bag. As her eyes met mine, I saw my pain and questions reflected back at me.

Questions for which I had no answer – at least not yet.