Sorry there were no updates yesterday. I do not own any of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight characters, settings, etc.

I'd dozed off while watching TV a few hours after watching the movie on the couch. I woke up to the sound of the doorbell. I yawned, put the TV remote on the coffee table in front of me, and stood. I started toward the doorway, first looking out the window. I couldn't see anyone, but suspected it would be our nearest neighbor, Betty Hemmingway. She lived a couple of houses away, considering the fact that our house was in the woods, for the most part. Anyway, she lived close by and was good friends with Esme and Carlisle. She usually came here when she knew I was home alone. She liked taking care of me when that happened. Maybe she brought some dinner or something. I opened the door and peaked out. No one was there; just a note on the doorstep. I stepped out to the porch to get the note, and a cool breeze brushed past me, making me shiver. I looked around after taking the paper, and saw a shadow move ahead of me. Shaking my head, trying to make sense of things, I went back inside the house, locking both the door and the dead bolt behind me. It was getting darker outside; many people get scared of the dark. I was not one of these people, but this situation made me more scared of anything around me.

I sat on the couch and examined the letter. "Isabella" was scribbled on the front of the envelope. I hated when people used my full name; I liked Bella and that was all. But, some people-like that nurse in the hospital-didn't know that was what I preferred. Maybe whoever this was from knew that, too. I carefully opened it, trying not to break the envelope. Once I got the letter out, I began reading.

Bella,

Once someone has left your life, don't think they're gone for good.

One sentence. That was the whole letter. I read it again, thinking of reasons why I got this letter. But then, I thought of it. What was the reason I was home alone today in the first place?

My father.

I didn't even want to think of him as my father. I was ashamed to have even known him. But, he was blood related to me all right, and I had to face that. And this letter…it was from him.

I'd thought when I was 10 and first came to this house that he was gone forever now, and I'd never see him again. But now I knew that anything was possible, and maybe, just maybe, he'd find me.

Wait. He did find me, since he was able to get this letter here in the first place! Soon, I felt dizzy, and the pictures on the TV were fading, becoming more blurry by the second.

Then I collapsed. In front of the TV, past the couch and the coffee table. I don't know how I ended up there, but somehow I was able to begin pacing back and forth, holding the letter, and then fell because of shock.

"Bella? Bella?" a faded voice asked. I felt coolness on my forehead, and I swallowed. My throat ached and I was thirsty. I opened my eyes and saw Edward, looking down at me. He was holding an ice pack to my forehead. His T-shirt allowed his muscles to show in his arm. I couldn't believe I found myself to look there. But, it was true. He had great muscles. The rest of his muscles showed through, like on his chest and other arm…

"Bella? What are you looking at?" he asked. I blinked and looked up at him.

"Sorry." I said.

"What happened to you?"

"I…um…" I looked to my right and left for the note. I had to show them. This was serious now. I had to tell them everything that happened having to do with my dad. "Where's the note?"

"What note?"

"That one." I pointed to the floor by the TV, where the paper lie. He stood, leaving the ice pack on my head. He took it and walked back over to me. He read it, but it only took a minute.

"Is this from…?"

I nodded slowly. "I think so. He rang the doorbell and left it here."

"Fuck," he muttered. "Mom? Dad?"

Esme and Carlisle walked into the living room, Esme carrying a tray of soup for me. She smiled at me nicely, and Carlisle crossed his arms when he stood near us. He knew something was up.

"What is it, Edward?" Carlisle asked.

"Look at this," Edward handed them the letter. Carlisle took it and put it in front of he and Esme so she could read as well. Both of them got looks of shock on their face. Esme dropped the soup, making it go all over the carpet.

"Bella…" Esme said. "Where did you get this from…?"

The police officers put the letter in an official envelope for evidence. There were two officers-Officer Stanley and Officer Williams. Officer Williams talked quietly to Esme and Carlisle in the kitchen, while Edward and I sat in the living room with Officer Stanley. He'd told me he wanted to ask some questions. I was shaking from nervousness, and to my surprise Edward held my hand to comfort me. I took a deep breath.

"So, Isabella." He said. "Or would you like me to call you Bella?"

"Bella." I answered.

He nodded. "Okay. So, how old were you when you first came here?"

"Ten."

"Mm-hmm." He wrote something. "And do you like the Cullen's?"

"Yes."

"Do you like living here?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone else ever live here? Or just the four of you?"

"Their other kids, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Alice. But they're not living at home anymore."

"Oh, right. And do Esme and Carlisle treat you well?"

I knew where he was going with this. "Yes, they're very nice."

He looked at Edward. "May I speak to her alone for a minute?"

Edward nodded. "Sure." He looked at me and then stood and walked away. I looked back at Officer Williams.

"How is Edward? Is he a nice guy?" he asked carefully.

I nodded. "Very nice."

"And…does he act kind to you…? He wouldn't hurt you, correct? That's what I'm-"

"He would never hurt me. Not like my father did."

"Okay, then. Speaking of your dad. May we talk about him for just a moment?"

No, I thought.

"Do you remember the last time you saw him?"

I nodded slowly.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

I thought about how to tell the story for a moment. Then, I spoke. "He was being his usual self. Except then he seemed worse; this time, he was going to actually kill my mom, I think. So I called the police when I had he chance."

"And what was the last thing he said to you?"

"I'll get you, you little brat."

He wrote that one down in his notebook. "And how about your mom? Do you remember her?"

I nodded.

"Do you miss her?"

"Yes."

"Was she a good mom?"

"Well, she couldn't raise me the way she wanted because of all my dad had did. So she couldn't finish to raise me. That's why I was taken away from her. She didn't choose it, if that's what you mean."

"Was she ever like your dad?"

"Never."

"That's good. You know she loves you, Bella. Your dad did, too."

I looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. "He doesn't love me. And I don't love him."

He didn't say anything; maybe he knew I was right. If my dad had loved me, he would've stopped drinking from the first time I told him it was bad when I was about five.

"Daddy, when are you going to stop drinking icky beer?" I asked as I stood next to the kitchen table, where he drank yet another can of beer. I'd learned from the news of a man who drank and drove. Mom said it was bad for people to drink. I wondered, Why did Daddy drink?

"Never," he answered, chugging the last sip.

"But Mommy says it's bad for you."

He glared at me. "Well Mommy doesn't know shit. And you're as stupid as she is, so shut the hell up. Kids…"

"Daddy, don't curse." I said, stomping my foot. I was a persistent child, until I knew that he would hurt my mom and I.

"Don't tell me what to do, you brat!" He stood abruptly, the cans of beer-along with the new one he had just opened-fell off the table. The one full of beer fell on me, causing the beer to go all over me. I looked down in disgust and started crying.

"You got me all wet!" I cried.

"Good! You annoying idiot!"

My mom walked in the kitchen and saw me covered in beer. She gasped and ran over to me.

"Are you okay, honey?" she asked.

"She is not okay!" My dad yelled.

"Why's that?"

"She's like you." He left the kitchen, slamming the front door of the house shut behind him.

My mom told me not to worry as she cleaned me up. But, I did worry. And that worry lasted for both of us for five more years.

"Well, give us a call if you need anything else." Officer Stanley told the four of us as we stood by the front door. Officer Williams was by their car already, writing on the bag that held the letter. "Keep her safe." He told Carlisle and Esme. "She should only go to school, and then come straight home. Only until we figure this out."

"What about her being home alone? Is that okay? Like today…she passed out because of what happened, and no one was here."

"As long as the dead bolts are locked and all windows are sealed tight, she can stay home alone."

In case of what? I knew the answer, but I still wondered anyway. Would he really go to those extremes of breaking in to hurt me? Probably.

They both nodded. I looked at Edward; his teeth were clenched shut, and he glared at the officer. I wished I could know what he was thinking then.

"Well, again, give us a call. If anything comes up, we'll call you." The officer said. "Have a good night."

"Thank you, Officer." Carlisle said, closing the door behind him. He locked the dead bolt and the other lock on the glass door.

I wanted to know what Detective Robinson had said, but I could not ask. Because I was not supposed to know about him and him talking to Esme, Carlisle, and Edward. I'd have to wait until they'd tell me. If they'd tell me. Esme and Carlisle went upstairs to go to sleep, but Edward and I remained downstairs. He still looked pissed off.

"Edward…?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to me. "What's wrong is that your father…is just… no offense, but, such an asshole!"

"Trust me, none taken. I know he is, Edward. But you shouldn't worry about it."

"Why wouldn't I worry about it?"

"Why would you?"

"Because I care about you, Bella. And if anything happened to you…well…" he trailed off. "Anyway, I couldn't stand it if anything happened. I want you to be safe. And…I know I haven't been the kindest person to you in the world these past years, even though we were supposed to be friends. But you are my friend. So I don't want you hurt."

I smiled. "Thanks, Edward."

He looked like he wanted me to say something else. I didn't know exactly what, though. The way he looked at me…it was different than ever before.

"You know…I can stay home from school tomorrow. My mom and dad will let you if you need to. And I can stay and be with you, if you want. Unless, of course, you want to be alone. I understand that."

"I think I'll go to school tomorrow. I think I'm fine."

"You think or you know?"

I thought about that. How was I guaranteed safety going to school everyday? Now, everything I did would be taking a chance.

"I think." I said. "I'll never be able to know anymore." I began walking toward the steps. He followed. I went into my room and pulled the sheets of my bed down and lay. A deep pain was in my ribs, probably from falling to the floor when I'd passed out, and it reminded me of something.

I saw him about to walk past, but I spoke so he wouldn't leave me here alone. I wasn't ready to go to sleep yet. I wanted to talk.

"I remember when he broke her ribs," I said disturbingly calmly, staring off into space. I didn't know what was wrong with me; maybe I was still shaken now from passing out before.

He stopped and looked in my room. "What?" he asked, walking in. He sat on the bed, looking down at me. I sat cross-legged and upright. I looked into his eyes and continued the story.

"My father. He broke my mother's ribs once. All of them."

"How?"

"Well, they began arguing because my mother was seen talking to another man at a bar. My father had gone to the bathroom. He came back and saw her talking to this guy, younger than him. He was so angry. When didn't he get angry, anyway? So he went up to them and asked, 'Who is this, Renee?' in a calm voice. My mom answered, 'this is a friend from work.' My dad didn't like that answer. He didn't think my mom should talk to anyone at work; just work, no talk. So, he said to the man, 'I think you'd better leave before I bust your head open.' The man was smart; he left just like that. Now, my mom was frightened to even look at my dad's face. But, she did-right in his eyes. And he said to her, 'Come outside. We're leaving.' Of course, my mom left right away without a chance to say goodbye to everyone. They went outside into the cold night, and he took her hand forcefully and led her to a secluded area. An area by an old, big dumpster. No one ever went there, except for the garbage people to pick it up. But my dad and mom went. First, he slapped her across the cheek.

"But then he decided that wasn't enough punishment. So, with all the strength he had, he picked her up and threw her toward the dumpster. She crashed into it, hitting her stomach on the edge of the inside and outside of the dumpster. She then slid into the garbage, head first on a piece of old scrap metal that had been thrown out."

"Did he take her to the hospital?" Edward was intrigued.

"No. They came home that night-I had been alone since my dad wouldn't let my mom stay home or get a baby-sitter-and she was limping, holding her stomach. She'd told me what happened and went to the doctor when my dad was at work the next day. All her ribs were broken or fractured. She quit her job after that. My dad made her after finding out she talked to other men there."

"So…was it all from jealousy?" he asked.

"Partly. But partly just because he wasn't a good person."

"I feel bad that you had to go through all this and I didn't."

"Don't feel bad for me. I just need help."

"And that we will give you."

"I know you will."

"Well," he stood. "I'm going to go to bed, I guess. Goodnight, Bella."

"'Night."

He left the room, and I drifted off to sleep, not realizing how tired I actually was.

Good chapter? Thanks to everyone who has read!