Usual disclaimer applies.

March, 2012

~53~

Pulled over on the side of the highway, I lift my head up from the steering wheel which I have been crying over for the last twenty minutes.

So Edward Cullen is your brother.

Deal with it Bella.

It really shouldn't come as such a shock, an electric jolt that sets my teeth on edge, my stomach instantly queasy. I knew about Renee and Carlisle. I knew how much Esme hated me, even from the time I first met Alice and Edward three and a half years ago. But I guess looking at your husband's illegitimate child would make anyone spiteful.

And being that Carlisle is one of the wealthiest men in the state of Washington? Yeah, I can see why Esme felt she needed to protect her assets, why she went to the extreme of threatening my mother. This information, this fact, if it holds true, could be worth millions.

And the irony is choking. I have been working so hard, busting my ass, to win the Cullen Scholarship, which is in fact money that I should already be entitled to.

But that thought just makes me want to throw up again.

I'm thinking like a money-crazed bitch.

Yeah, that's not who I am.

No matter who my biological father is, Charlie Swan will always, always be my dad, the man who raised me, who loves me.

Oh, Dad.

I swipe my fingers across my cheeks, trying to stop the endless tears, and take a shaky breath. Fumbling with the keys, my hands unsteady and limp, I manage to start the truck.

I can at least take comfort in knowing that I won't have to drive far to reach home.

~SW~

I step through my front door, dropping my school bag to the floor. And I already feel better. The air smells like home, a mix of food smells and vanilla from the candle that I like to burn in the living room. I take comfort in the photographs that line the mantle of the little electric fireplace that stands against one wall, pictures of Dad and I from over the years.

The ones of Mom were taken down.

The apartment is quiet, and I know Dad isn't home yet. But judging from the time on my watch, he should be any minute.

I move through the open space of the living room, heading towards my bedroom. And I gasp when I catch a glimpse of my face in the hallway mirror.

My hair, which was light and flowing this morning, is matted down, tucked behind my ears. My eyes are glassy and red. Although I don't wear much makeup at all, just a small amount of mascara, it seems like every stitch of it has ran down to coat underneath my eyes.

And then there's my skin.

Despite having brown hair and brown eyes, I have very translucent skin. Meaning that whenever I exercise, cry, or am out in the heat, my skin blotches. This used to be a big problem to me as a child because I cried more often, like any child does, and was embarrassed by the instant red my face would turn.

However, looking at my face now, I don't think it's ever been so bad.

I am not just red and blotchy. Underneath the red, I am sickly pale, with sallow cheeks and white lips.

In a word, I'm a mess.

And this is not something that will go away by the time Dad gets here. I won't look any better even if I take a quick shower now. And I just know my voice will be completely unrecognizable too.

But I think… I think it might be better this way.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I think I need to talk to Dad.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You gals are awesome :)