Hi everyone,

I had to split this chapter in two, so the rest should be up in a few days.

I just wanted to address a major theme in this story: mother's homes. First, I know that there are lots of great programs out there for women with unplanned pregnancies. In the past however, many agencies went unregulated. There was also a large black market for infants, as U.S. Laws forbid the adoption of infants from different religious backgrounds, so there were very few Jewish babies available for adoption. I"m not at all saying that this is what will happen in this fic, I'm just giving a little bit of historical background. Having said that, I will say that this story is fiction and I did take creative license because of that. There are a few stories that have inspired me however, one of them is a film from Ireland called, "The Magdalene Sisters", and another is "Butterbox Babies" a non-fiction book published in 1992. Neither of these stories took place in U.S. (Butterbox babies happened in Canada), but due to cultural similarities, I don't think that it's too much of a stretch to imagine that something could have happened somewhere in the U.S.

Thanks for reading, and for any and all comments you care to leave! As always, Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.


BPOV,

I was more nervous that day than I had been in ages. In fact, I can't remember in all my adult years being as anxious as I was.

I got out of bed at the usual time, though truthfully I had been awake for hours. I wasn't accustomed to Anthony's little cot, though I fit just fine. I didn't really think it was the bed that kept me up, though. I knew the true source of my anxiety was that in less than 24 hours I would have to recount a tale that I hadn't told anyone in nearly 12 years, I would have to inform my children that their father had found us and convince them that we were safe (even though I didn't completely believe that myself), and most of all I had to trust Edward. I had to trust that after he heard my tale that he wouldn't tell anyone of my location, or that he had seen me, and most of all, he wouldn't run to Elizabeth Masen and tell her all about his grandchildren. I hadn't seen Demetri or Felix for a long time, but I didn't doubt that woman had ways of keeping track of me. My only hope was that Edward would be an ally in this, and he may understand why I had to do what I did, and why, if I was pushed to do so, I would run again. I wasn't wealthy, but I had some savings tucked away. And after working with the girls at the mother's home for so many years, I had contacts from here to California, ones who would understand and keep me under wraps. If all else failed, Angela still had family in Brazil…

No, this wasn't the time to rehash this. I had long ago set a plan in place in case Elizabeth decided she wanted my children after all. Now was the time to sleep and face the day well-rested.

The morning was still chilly, the yard still coated in a carpet of white crackling frost. However the sun was waking up each day a little earlier, and now instead of waking up to pitch black, the sky was a deep blue gray. There was some cloud cover, but the sunset last night told me that it would dissipate before my morning chores were done. We were in for a warm, sunny spring day. It hadn't rained in almost a week, so I knew what that meant: today would be perfect for planting.

Seth and Sam were expected to be here at 8am, just as I would normally finish breakfast and the children would head off to school. Since Jacob had gone, two of his cousins helped out on the farm regularly from April to November, and then in the winter months they came by occasionally to help out with the livestock or maintenance. I had learned a lot on the way, so I could do a lot of the repairs myself now, but it was always nice to have an extra hand. When Jacob was alive we worked this farm together; It was never meant to be done by one person.

After waking, I drank some black coffee and ate a chunk of brown bread. I hadn't meant to wake Edward up, but my rooster managed to stay out last night, so he gave a most unwelcome wake up call outside the window. I didn't want to see Edward in the morning. I was afraid that seeing him laying my my bed, his hair tousled, his skin emanating a warmth from being under the covers, well I just didn't think I could handle it. He did wake though, and so of course I brought him something to eat. I wasn't ashamed of my home or my life, but I wondered how he saw it through his eyes. After Carlisle left and entered my room, I wasn't prepared for the way that my cheeks heated up when I saw in him laying in my bed. My imagination hadn't done it justice. The air inside the space was fragrant with his masculine smell, and I wasn't at all prepared for the sight of his muscles flexing as he stretched. His head was bandaged and he looked tired, but still beautiful to me. Seeing his bare arms, and his chest muscles flex from beneath his undershirt, I could help but remember what it was like for those arms to be wrapped around my waist, holding me possessively.

When I remembered that feeling, I couldn't reconcile those memories with as person who would want to send me away, only to choose another fiancée. He treated me like the center of his world. I Could it be true? I wondered. Could it be that he had never meant to push me away? I considered this idea, the thought that he hadn't chosen another and all that time had wanted me. Then he thanked me for letting him use our 'guest' room, and the only thing I could do was turn and walk out. Where in this small house would we have so much extra space that we could allocate some of it to only be used by guests? The concept was ludicrous, and it brought me back reality.

The reality was, Edward was eighteen when we were together, and if he did really love me, it wasn't Marie Black that he had loved. He had loved a girl that no longer existed; Though I hadn't died, I was not her anymore.

I was proud of who I was, but I didn't have the same privileges and opportunities that were given to me back in Seattle. I had lived a life of hard steady work and simple rewards. As Jacob use to say, "In farming you don't make much of a living, but you can make one heck of a life". This life that I loved was so different from what Edward had ever known, I wasn't sure he would recognize it's value. I didn't have the attributes that he expected from a woman. I didn't even have a guest bed! What would he see in me now?

Despite the way my heart fluttered when I saw him, I couldn't think about how he made me feel physically, it was just too dangerous. He would meet his children, and I would always be their mother. But I was sure that as much as I wanted to re-live the past and feel him hold me again, it would never be. What would he do with a farmer's wife?

On top of that, I felt guilty. There was a man that was laying in my bed – the one I'd shared with Jacob for eight years, and it was shameful that this man could arouse such feelings in me. Even if that man was Edward. Especially if that man was Edward, considering Jacob's feelings on that part of my life.

I quickly hurried out the back door and took a deep lungful of crisp spring air. I immersed myself in my gardens as soon as I was done in the barn. A farm was an excellent place in which to keep one's mind occupied, as there was always too much to do. I began in my gardens, as I found this work the most relaxing, and my favourite time was in the spring.

On the south side of the barn, opposite to the house, Jake had built an impressive glassed in lean-to, where I was able to start a whole multitude of vegetables. When I came to the Black's farm, though I had twins, I would often work with Jacob's sisters and I learned a lot about growing, canning and preserving fruits and vegetables. Eventually Rebecca and Rachel got married, and ended up moving west, but by the time they left the farm we had an impressive market garden, and we even supplied the local grocer's with vegetables, fruits and berries in the summe, and canned goods in the winter. Keeping it up was no small task, but it came with big rewards. In gratitude for the knowledge that was passed onto me by the Black sisters, I in turn taught the girls at the mother's home. The girls who helped me with growin and selling the produce were given a portion of the profits, and in turn I taught them also how to keep a ledger to run their own business. With the vegetable garden I was able to contribute to the farm financially, and we were able to save some money. I was still able to make a bit of money from the produce, and the rest of the farm profit, from the crops and the cows, I shared with Seth and Sam. We had a simple life, surely. But we had a healthy one, too. While there were certainly risks, I knew in the end we had each other.

Jacob had a head for numbers, so along with running the farm we were able to put away a little bit of money each year. Most of it went into savings for the children, a little into a rainy day fund. We were both survivors of the depression, and we knew that a little could go a long way; but we didn't want to have to live that life ever again. It was better we thought to live with what we needed, so we would have it when times were slim.

As I rounded the corner to the barn, I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. The vegetables were certainly my pride and joy. I walked amongst the rows of spinach that were already budding up, pulling a brave weed here and there that dared grow larger than the rest. The weeds this time of year were tiny and I'd take a hoe to them soon. In our glass greenhouse, I admired the broccoli, onion and carrot sprouts that had started. On the other side, I went and looked at the peas. I allowed the peas to grow up a trellis on the side of the greenhouse – they benefited from the support, and in the summer they would provide a bit of insulation so that the vegetables inside wouldn't over heat. I looked at the garlic, lettuce and leeks, and then grabbed the hoe and began my work. Soon after, Seth and Sam arrived, hitched up the team and went out into the fields; they were planting wheat today.

It being mid-spring, it didn't take me long to take care of the weeds. I gave the plants a little water as it hadn't rained in a while, and then transplanted some of the young plants. After consulting my farmer's almanac I decided to plant some tomatoes in the greenhouse and some beans in the fields

That work took me nearly to noon, and was proud of myself that I was allowed to keep my head mostly clear. A few times thoughts of Edward popped into my head, and I pushed them out. I realized at some point though, that the thoughts I had of him were not negative ones. I wasn't thinking about his reaction to my story, or how he may not take to my children. No, when I thought of Edward, my mind immediately went to the scruff I noticed on his chin, or the shape of his form under the quilt this morning. I remembered how his reddish hair looked brown indoors, but reflected gold in the sun. I thought about how he looked in my bed, how it smelled, and thought that I wouldn't mind keeping those sheets on for a while. Just the thought of him having lain where I slept…

These were dangerous thoughts though, and I knew it. Whether or not Edward had married Lauren, or had planned to or what have you, he had made it very clear all those years ago that I was not suitable for his world. I won't ever forget his insistence that I was no good for him "like that". At the time I was shocked beyond belief, but it didn't take me long to realize what he meant.

The fact was, no matter which wealthy man had married my mother, I would always be the daughter of a poor lumber worker. This wasn't just about money. I knew that my accent and choice of words were different, the way I carried myself, the things I thought. After he told me he couldn't have me the way I was, I saw what he meant. In the end, he needed someone who could navigate the waters of his social circles, and while others had been trained on sailboats, I was rowing a dinghy. I did need to learn more about those ways, and I was willing. I was willing to come back and be the person he needed, and I was willing to wait.

When I got pregnant, everything changed. And then when I spoke with Mrs. Mallory and received the letters, I realized that while I was able to wait, Edward wasn't. Now, he says he never wrote those letters, and while I wanted to believe him, part of my believed that he felt so guilty, that it has blocked out what he did. Regardless, I took them as truth at the time, which steered my destiny to what it was now.

I was not the same Isabella he knew way back when, though when I looked back, I wish I was. Because in spite of all that has happened, I still see the Edward I loved so dearly. The catch was, if he didn't love me enough as a teenager, he wouldn't love me as the woman I had become. I was a lady, and a farmer's wife. I knew less about his way of than I ever had, and I knew there was no place for someone like me there. I wouldn't have measured up to what he needed or desired, not after living for almost a dozen years in the mountains.

So I tried to block those images out, when his smile crept into my memory, I pulled at the weeds harder. When I remembered how his eyes twinkled, I planted twice as fast.

And then it was lunch time, and I realized that the moment in which I'd have to tell my story was nearly upon me.


I smoothed by blue dress as I walked up the steps to the Cullen's. I tried to take deep breaths, but my throat felt dry and constricted.

Instead of entering through the front, I slipped down the stair to the back door. I stopped at the pump, and with the cup hanging dangling from a string took a large gulp of cool water. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and entered through the kitchen.

Esme was there, and she greeted me with a warm smile. It was such a relief to know that my closest friends didn't hold it against me that I concealed my true identity, especially since I was linked to one of his old college friends. Fortunately for me, Esme and Carlisle had heard enough horrific stories from pregnant women ending up at their door step that they took my tale in stride. They understood that my main motive was keeping my children happy and by my side.

Esme's kitchen for me was something of a dream and an oasis for me. I had sat at her large table many times drinking coffee, sharing stories and concerns, and getting advice. Esme was more a mother to me than anyone had been. My own mother had loved me very much, but her carefree childlike ways had prevented her from seeing problems beyond her own perspective, and Jacob's mother had passed on when he was just 9 years old. So it wasn't surprising that I lingered in the kitchen a bit too long before going out to see Edward.

Eventually I felt the snap of a towel on my backside, "Get out there Bells, that boy's been waiting for you all day. Any longer and he'll have worn a path in my carpet. Go on!" I rubbed myself and looked backwards as I headed for the kitchen door, Esme chuckling and shaking her head as she seasoned a roast.

I pushed through the door of the kitchen, and Edward immediately turned to the sound. I thought I saw a look on his face as I came through the door, as though he relaxed a bit, and I immediately felt guilty for having kept him so long.

As I sat down in front of him, an image of my mother flashed before my eyes: Elizabeth sitting uninvited at my tiny kitchen table, looking around with disgust. Her eyes were the same color green as Edward's and she held her eyebrows the same way when she was appraising someone or something. It reminded me of when Edward was a boy, and just how attached he was to her. Edward would tell her everything, and always listened faithfully to her advice. He wore the clothes she purchased, he studied when she told him to study, she even encouraged him to apply to certain colleges – which she mistakenly thought were too difficult for me to gain acceptance. I remember that When I told him the reason she wanted him to attend certain schools all those years ago, we had an argument over it.

I suddenly realized that I needed more guarantees from him if I was to breathe a word of this story, or of my children. Thankfully, he didn't seem to bat an eyelash, and I was even impressed when without thinking he promised to treat Sarah the same as the others. I knew I had to lay my expectations all out on the table if I was going to do this. If not, I would run. There was no other choice.

looking at him at that moment was like looking at an older face of Anthony. I knew the lines of tension in his face, not just from him, but from his son. I knew he was trying to mask his nerves and the multitude of emotions that were firing through his body. I also knew from raising Anthony that he was probably just minimally aware that those emotions existed. Unfortunately for me, I'm not a mind reader. I couldn't guess at what he was feeling. I only knew that he was keeping it at bay under the surface of his own thoughts, and it was showing, just barely by the downward curve of his mouth and the wrinkles between his eyebrows.

I shivered in realization that even though I didn't know what to expect from this man, that I knew him. He was with me every day from the moment I left him. My children were a product of him, and it was ultimately up to me whether he would ever have the pleasure of knowing just how wonderful they were. The weight of my responsibility was daunting, and the only reason I didn't run out of the room at that moment was that my children deserved to know their father. Yes, I was only here by some sort of strange coincidence on a dark road, but perhaps that was what I needed. Maybe that was a sign, that I needed to be doing things differently.

After finishing my tea ritual, I felt much calmer, and I began to tell him my story.

"I started off in Louisiana, at a finishing school owned by the Voltura family. It was beautiful old plantation with a large mansion, and each girl had their own room. I had everything I needed physically, but emotionally it was difficult for me. I was living with other society girls who knew far more than me, and I often felt behind. Luckily, they knew nothing of my past or my mother and Judge Dwyer, but I was afraid to get close to them, in fear that they would figure out that I wasn't one of them. I attended classes as required in diction, hostessing, household management and sewing, but other than that I kept to myself. Although life in Seattle was hard for me, I missed it terribly. I wrote letters to you and my mother nearly every day, and most of my spare time was spent was completing a letter or starting some sort of correspondence. I also kept a journal, which is now long gone.

"I knew I was pregnant that day in the garden, when you said goodbye. I tried to tell you, but I guess I was speechless. I thought you didn't want me, and I was scared to tell you I was pregnant. I was convinced that I would be even less desirable as a wife, as not only would I be uneducated, but I would also be a pregnant bride, and of course embarrassing for your family. I was also a bit shocked, you could say so I didn't think to tell my mother or anyone, I just simply let them move me away. About 3 weeks after I arrived, I was supposed to get my cycle. I missed it, but decided that if anyone asked I could blame it on stress. Afterward I had other symptoms, and I felt nauseous at every meal, but I told the nuns that worked there that my body was just adjusting to the new climate and cuisine.

"By the time I had missed my third cycle, I was starting to show. I noticed that my dresses were tighter, so I started to hoard food in hopes that it could be passed off as weight gain. I knew that I couldn't hide it forever, so I was buying time. I had no plan, and I didn't know who to turn to. By the time I had missed it a fourth cycle, Other people began to notice as well. A very nice teacher, Sister Judith, asked me to confide in her. I thought I could trust her, and maybe get some direction as to what I could do, or where I could go, but apparently her loyalty lay more with the academy than with keeping confidence.

Just two days after telling her, I was escorted into the office, and my mother and Judge Dwyer were there at the desk with the headmaster, Marcus Voltura. My mother had tears in her eyes, and I knew that she knew. I couldn't look at her. I looked at Judge Dwyer, and I could tell he was angry. They asked me to admit in front of everyone, so I did. I told them you were the father. I saw Philip give my mother a look, and then asked me to leave. Of course I just sat outside the door and listened.

"It was an election year for my step-father, and he was worried about how this "incident" would tarnish his campaign. Marcus Voltura offered him a solution: he had a brother who ran a Mother's home in North Carolina, one that was very private, and had a good reputation for "discretion. "He was sure they could find a place for me. He told Judge Dwyer that "these things happened all the time," and that I could be transferred there without anyone finding out about my condition. Judge Dwyer jumped upon it immediately, and my mother agreed with his dutifully.

I moved to North Carolina three days later, riding in the train with my mother and Judge Dwyer. He told me more than once that I may as well not bother contacting you, because he wanted to keep this under wraps. He told me that he'd tell you himself, and told me in no uncertain terms that if this were to be revealed to the media, that his career would be ruined, and he would hold me personally responsible. I told him I wouldn't stop writing you, and I remember his words like it was yesterday, "Write him all you want, Isabella, he won't want to hear from the likes of you after this." It was hard not to believe him.

"He never told me," Edward interjected.

"I know that, now. But at the time I wasn't sure if he had told you, or not, or had told you something completely different. I had no access to telegraph, so I knew that he could certainly get to you before any letter of mine would reach you. Still, I tried to write to explain, hoping you would believe me.

"Life at the mother's home was very different than the finishing academy, although my mother still called it "the academy" and still asked how I liked my "classes". There was no school there at all. The only thing that was the same was that most of the girls there also came from upper class families. Most of them didn't want to be there, and many of them, like me were hoping to reunite with their boyfriends once they were out. Some of the more experienced girls told us it was a lost cause, that by the time we were done our "nine month sentence" our boyfriends will have moved on.

While the finishing school made money from tuition, the mother's home made money from guaranteeing discretion for the important parents of the residents who were there, such as me. One of the effects of this "discretion", is that we were all far away from our families. No one who was anyone would have their pregnant daughter in the same state as them, as it would have been much easier to be discovered. Because of that, visits from family were often sporadic.

"The result was that the school had a lot of freedom in how they operated, and what they did behind close doors, and what they represented to families was completely different. Behind the fancy tours and information packets they gave to parents, The Volterra Mother's Home was really a source of cheap labour for the town. The home ran a laundry service that was used by several families and a few restaurants in the vicinity, some of the girls with smaller bellies were hired as temporary maids in some homes. Other residents were relegated to the kitchen in private homes where no one but the cooks would see them. As my belly grew quickly, because there were twins, I spent more time in the laundries than anywhere else.

"You would think that girls from upstanding homes would run right away to daddy and tell him about the deplorable conditions, right?" I chuckled humorlessly, "That's what I thought, though I'd never been amongst pregnant socialite girls. They were the black sheep of the family. Some were rebellious, most weren't. But because we were all pregnant, we were all seen as loose, and it was easy to disregard our claims. The few girls who tried to tell their families that they were being used as nothing more than glorified slaves were laughed off, their parents were given a "detailed" tour of the home, and then the girls were made of an example of afterwards, as they always ended up cleaning toilets for a couple weeks after making their claims. We learned very quickly that trying to tell anyone the truth was futile."

I looked up, and saw that Edward saw on the couch with his hands clenched on his thighs so hard, his knuckles were a bright white. I placed by tea cup down and poured him another, "We can't do anything about the past, Edward. Everything I'm telling you right now happened a long time ago."

Edward nodded his head, but didn't unclench his fists, "I swear Isabella, if I had known-"

"I know, Edward," and I bent my head down. I didn't know, really. I mean, I knew what he was going to say, but I really didn't know yet if I believed him. I believed he thought that's what he would have done, in retrospect. But at the moment? I wasn't sure whether he would have been the hero he thought he should have been, or whether he would have followed the words and Advice of this mother once more.

"The work schedule was run by an evil woman named Jane Drew," I continued, " Jane had a personal vendetta against pregnant women. Hearing some of the girls talk, they thought maybe she was forced to be an old maid and jealous of all the unwed mothers she had to take care of. Others thought she believed that sex before marriage was the worst kind of sin, and she aimed to make us all contrite. This woman had no compassion, and thought that rigorous work routines and back breaking labour were the answer to our 'predicament'.

"I continued to write to you, and while most of the girls around me were hoping their children would be adopted, I refused to go that route. Every day that your babies were in my belly, I loved them more and more. How could I not? And when they kicked the first time, I felt so…connected."

I stopped and blushed, realizing that I was rubbing my stomach in front of Edward, and was starting to daydream of those early times.

"After a while, I was desperate to get out of there. I was physically and mentally drained from living in that place. Eventually I convinced myself that if you only knew what had happened, you would come and get me;"

"I would have," Edward responded quickly, "Please believe that, I never would have left you there had I known, I would have taken responsibility;"

"I know, Edward" I said, putting up a hand to stop him. "I know. But this is a hard story to tell so, please, I need to finish." I partly said that because I hoped it was true, and partly to placate Edward so I could finish my tale.

"I started to call every week at first, each time being told you were not home. Eventually I spoke with Mrs. Mallory, and she informed me that you and Lauren were practically engaged." I saw Edward's fists suddenly uncurled and he jumped up from his spot and began to pace. His fingers flexed at his side and his jaw was strained. Instead of interrupting myself again, I stood up, and placed a hand on top of his and he relaxed. He stared straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly, his hand came up to rest on my. Honestly, it felt so good to have his hand on me. Too good, and I felt torn between standing there forever, and running back to the safety of the sofa. Eventually I tugged on his hand, and he sat down, this time opting for the seat beside mine. It was heaven and hell to have him so close, especially in that moment, as my tale was far from over.

"Even after speaking with Mrs. Mallory, I didn't believe her, so I became determined to find my way back to Seattle to come and find you. I even went to Aro and asked for my emergency money, claiming that I had a friend in need, but he called my mother, and she and Phillip denied my request. Even so, I found a way to gain access to my file in Aro's office while I was cleaning it, and took some of the money out. I didn't dare take all of it, lest he noticed that it was missing.

"Just before that time, things began to change for me at Volterra. After one of my check-ups Dr. Voltura, who we called by his first name, Aro when he wasn't listening began asking me if I wanted extra things. This was unusual as he was typically dispassionate and cold in demeanor. He even asked Jane to put me on "light duty", which was unheard of. I did take some of the lighter jobs when I physically couldn't take it anymore, but I usually tried to do the same work the other girls did as I didn't want to make them jealous. One of the duties I could still manage was sweeping and dusting the main hallway in the home.

"After Dr. Voltura denied my request to return to Seattle, I found out why I was being treated to special. It was during my "light duty" in which I was dusting the wainscoting in the hallway that I passed Dr.'s office, and I heard my name. I was intrigued of course, and it didn't take long for me to figure out what was going on. The man and the woman in his office were negotiating a price for my unborn children. Mine! I could hear the Doctor stating prices and explaining that the money would go on to "help" future girls in trouble like me, as though he was running a charity."

I stopped for a moment, to regain my composure. I was getting to the most difficult part of the story, and I realized I was shaking. I lifted my tea cup, realizing that the tremors in my hand were making it difficult to drink and the tea was threatening to splash out. I wasn't sure whether I should try to drink or just put the cup down, when Edward's warm hand engulfed mine, steadying the cup. Together, we lifted the cup to my lips. As took a sip of tea, I looked up to see his warm, green eyes regarding me. I saw a storm of emotions in them, sadness, confusion, a lot of anger, but also compassion. Seeing that was what helped me continue with my story.

"He knew you were the father," I blurted out. Edward looked at me, confused, "I suppose Judge Dwyer told them. From what I heard the couple was from the Midwest, but had family on the West Coast and were familiar with your family's name. That was also when I found that Aro believed that I was having twins. This excited the woman in the room very much.

"I'm not sure how to describe the feelings I had in that moment. To find out I was having twins was overwhelming, but to find out that the doctor was already selling my babies? I felt sick. I couldn't allow it. I wanted to run away throw up, and at the same time I wanted to break through that door and beat the life out of whoever thought they could have my babies. Luckily, I chose the former.

"One night later, I planned my escape, such as it were. After lights were out one night, I packed a bag, slipped out of the kitchen doors and walked to the train station, which was about a 45 minutes away. It was already dark out, so I didn't think I'd been seen. I figured I'd have to sleep at the train station, but I was fine with that. In my mind it was much better than the alternative. I had that small amount of money, enough to get me to Chicago. I knew you had family there so I thought I'd try and look them up, but I never got that far. When I got to the train station, Aro was waiting for me. He grabbed me by the arm, raised his voice at me and publicly shamed me for my "loose ways". He accused me of stealing the money, and dragged me away. He also showed my face to the ticket master, warning them to never sell me a ticket and report me to the home if I was seen again. I realized that he knew I had left and had intentionally met me at the train station to embarrass me, and as a means of making sure I didn't try to leave again."

I looked up and saw that Edward's eyes were stormy and his face was red. I placed my hands on his and simply said, "Save your anger, it gets worse,"

I took a deep breath. Soon I would have to explain to Edward and how and why I'd almost died and then gave his children to another man. I only hoped that in the end, he'd realize that I had done it – and would have still done anything, to keep my children safe.