You're going to have to trust me a little bit that this will be okay in the end, okay?

-x-x-x-

"I wonder if I'll ever have to decide which is worse, life as we're living or no life at all."

- Susan Beth Pfeffer, Life As We Knew It

28

I had heard those words before. They hit me with the feeling of each one of my organs being ripped open and filled with lead and bricks.

"…We think your mother may have been involved in an accident this afternoon, and you were listed as one of her next of kin."

I stared at them, mute. Ben gurgling in the room behind me snapped me back, and I turned around to get him off the floor.

"Have you tried her boyfriend, Phil? He would know more than me," I mumbled.

"He's not available to help us at the moment," the female replied.

Not available. What did that mean?

"I have my nephew; I can't leave right now," I mumbled again.

"Miss Swan, I'll drive your vehicle. You can bring him with you," she said.

I'll drive. She didn't think I could drive myself? She caught my eyes and must have read that I was desperately looking for another out.

"Isabella…" she said, softer this time.

"Okay, let me just get his baby bag."

I sat in the passenger seat Emmett's X5 as we followed the male detective in his unmarked police sedan. I stared out the window, Seattle flashing by me: buildings, trees and people all a blur of melded, muted tones. When we were almost at the hospital, the female, whose name I'd learned was Lauren, spoke into a radio on her shirt, then glanced at me.

"Your father is Detective Swan?"

I nodded.

"He'll meet you at the hospital as soon as he can," she replied cautiously.

I was taken to a private waiting room in the surgical ward. Ben was asleep in his stroller in front of me, and I was glad I'd thought to grab it on the way to the car. I looked up as a doctor and a plump, gentle-looking lady in a suit walked in. Counselor her badge read. She looked familiar. As the doctor opened his mouth to speak, a hand came onto his shoulder from behind and he turned. Edward. I watched as he said something in the doctor's ear and then moved past him into the room. I registered that he had scrubs on and looked very handsome for someone who also looked quite tired. The other two stayed, taking seats opposite me. Edward sat next to me, his body angled toward mine. He took my hand and kissed my cheek. My hand being held by his had been one of my simplest comforts. This time it felt a little different, like an anchor attempting to hold me to him, to the world.

"Hi, beautiful." His smile didn't reach his eyes. In the last month, all his smiles had been reaching his eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Dr. Newton," he prompted, then swallowed audibly. I looked to the other doctor, while Edward kept his gaze on me.

"Miss Swan, your mother was shot today." There it was. That moment where the world suddenly feels like it's tipping off its axis, and as it turns upside down, you have to scramble as the ground beneath you disappears, trying with all your might not to fall off into the black oblivion of the atmosphere. Doctors knew about that moment and how it wiped out sight and sound. That's why he paused before he continued.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you that she died from her injuries about an hour ago. Police say she was caught up in an argument between her boyfriend and another man. Her boyfriend, Mr. Dwyer, I believe it is, was shot as well. He's in a coma."

He paused to give me a moment to digest his words. I really didn't want to digest them at all. I just stared at him, waiting for him to tell me it was really a mistake and it was somebody else named Renee Swan. Waiting for him to say that my mother was in Phoenix, where she was supposed to be.

He didn't say that, so I shook my head in denial, hoping it would encourage him to.

"I hate to ask you to do this, Miss Swan, but we need you to identify the body," he nearly whispered.

I turned my head away from him and stared at the wall with a scenic painting and a poster for grief counseling. We're here to help.

I felt Edward's hand tighten around mine.

I nodded.

"Are you sure you're ready? We can wait," Edward whispered.

I was never going to be ready. I moved to stand, showing him I just wanted to get it over with. He helped me up, holding me pressed to his side to make sure I was stable when I started to sway. I tried to speak to say that I couldn't take Ben with me, but words still failed me, so I gestured to him instead.

"Bella, this is Linda Cope; she was with your family last time you were here. She'll stay with Ben for us," Edward said, gesturing to the lady.

Last time you were here. When your sister died. I looked to her and she gave me a reassuring smile, standing to take my place beside my nephew. A few months ago. Leaving this baby without a mother.

The warmth of Edward was all that kept my body moving as we followed the cold, sterile corridor that led to the morgue in the guts of the hospital. The walls were a horrible paisley green and it smelt like formaldehyde.

"Sorry about this, they should have kept her in the room but it's been a busy afternoon. I protested, but they needed the space," Edward said, sympathy evident in his voice. I felt bad for him. He shouldn't have to do this for me.

I managed another nod.

As we got closer to the double doors, I wanted to vomit. The chill, the smell, and the encompassing green felt like punishment for my mother being down here and not in a regular room. None of her family had been with her when she died. They needed the space.

A man with a grey beard in a lab coat unlocked the doors and let us in. We followed him over to a gurney and he said something to me, but I didn't hear him.

He shifted the white sheet back from the long, slim mound that lay in front of me to reveal the face.

The face that was definitely my mother's.

She wasn't quirky or annoying, she wasn't defensive, she wasn't late or absent or ignorant.

She was dead.

In that moment, I had my answer. We had no more chances. I felt everything that, as a teenager, I had questioned whether I would or not, and more.

Sadness, guilt, resentment, despair, pain.

I had my answer, but it was too late.

She was gone.