A/N: Ok.. OK... remember... I have rules! I see I have some more in need of hand holding.. ya got it! Tissues in the trash cans please..they are getting a little deep.. and remember.. nerf balls are soft.. you really dont want to hurt me! 1 of 3...

28

EPOV

My family stands to the side as we watch journalists and families explore Lizzie's room. My mother has tears in her eyes and a death grip on my father's arm. Emmett is busy talking to some of the patients who are well enough to traverse to the room.

I try to keep memories of Lizzie looking all thin and sickly at bay, but it's no use. Being back in this hospital and in this wing especially brings it all back. Feeling the need to get out and get some air, I catch my Dad's eyes and motion that I am leaving. I know that he understands, anything to do with Lizzie still affects me.

Lizzie was a surprise addition to our family. I was ten and Em was eleven. We all doted on her, she was loved, spoiled and the princess of the family. Even with the large age gap between us, we shared a special connection.

She was diagnosed with childhood leukemia when she was four. It devastated our family. We all rallied around her, doing whatever we needed to do to help her fight the disease. With Dad's connections at the hospital, Lizzie had access to the latest treatments and therapies.

She spent the next three years in and out of the hospital, in and out of remission. My parents did the best they could, trying to balance life with two healthy kids and one sick one. Emmett and I did whatever we could to make things easier on them.

When she died, a little more than three and half years after her diagnosis our family fractured. Dad threw himself into his work; Emmett escaped into college and I threw myself into my last year of high school and my music. We left mom to fend for herself and it was almost too late before we realized how bad she got. That summer I graduated high school we got family counseling and dealt with the demons of our grief.

When I finally stopped my trip down memory lane, I found myself in the memorial garden. Without conscious thought, my feet walk me to the place I always go when I come here. I kneel down at the brick and trace the letters with my hand:

Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Cullen

Our Angel in Heaven

"Miss you every day, Princess."

With a heavy heart, I force myself upright and start back down the path to the hospital. I glance up ahead and pause.

It can't be? Can it?

The profile looks like her. But the woman before me is ill, very ill. A soft smile graces her face and I can see traces of the woman I used to know.

Before I can process anything else, I speak, "Bella, is that you?"

A/N: Thoughts? Ok... next one... they are face to face...