Chapter Thirteen
1 The day just sort of petered out unspectacularly. It shouldn't have. It should have ended in fire and blood and all those melodramatic Richard Wagner-esque scenarios where the old Germanic gods would descend from up high and rain justice upon the mortals who dared upset the natural balance of the world.
Such as a millennial vampire who'd sworn to never again take a life, who'd been so sure that she was in complete mastery of her wants and needs and deepest desires. It turned out that control was just an illusion. All it took was one command by a half-vampire hybrid, and all the hard work, the sacrifice, the pain – none of it mattered anymore.
Irina stood in front of the big mirror in one of the guest bathrooms, staring herself in the eye – those dark-red, inhuman, monstrous eyes. She'd showered thoroughly and changed her clothes, but still, she hadn't felt this removed from humanity in many, many years. Over a century of torment, and here she was, back to square one. The biggest problem was the fact that for the first time in a long time, she felt at home in the fortress that was her body. She was dexterous, nimble, quick, precise. Her thoughts were fast and clear and sharp. Her thirst was sated. She was at peace. Right now, it was very easy to mourn the loss of life, to contemplate the nature of her existence, to consider the possibility that she might deserve death via werewolf justice.
In a few days, though, should she still be alive, the effects of the living human blood would start to wear of, and she would get fidgety. The pain in her throat would start as a pervasive, irritating itch and then get worse by the hour. Her body would feel clunky and foreign to her, and her capacity to think clearly would get dulled. She'd feel queasy, cold, itchy all over. She'd be in pain, and it would only increase more and more and more. Slowly but inexorably, a single thought would take hold of her entire mind: drink human blood, and this will all go away.
She had no idea whether she'd be able to make herself stop once she got to that point.
Her thoughts wandered to Demetri, who was undoubtedly around, plotting to rain hellfire on the child and its protectors. Leah was probably with him right now. The other vampires had yet to suspect that something was amiss, but it couldn't be long, now. They'd probably think she'd been caught by Sam Uley or that she'd gone back willingly. Maybe that had happened, but given the fact that she was in possession of Irina's phone and that she'd definitely spoken to Demetri earlier, Irina was pretty sure that the two of them were now plotting all of their deaths together.
In all honesty, she didn't even mind much. Of course she'd fight – she wouldn't have much of a choice – but she knew that after being infected by the dhampir, there could be no hope of salvation. Maybe she didn't even deserve it. It was useless mulling these depressing prospects over, but what else was she to do? This was her life, and it was ending one minute at a time. Over a thousand years of existence, and she was going to end here, in the back of beyond, surrounded by people she despised, spouting pop-culture one-liners in her own mind like a total idiot, feeling sorry for herself. Yes, that was what she was doing: she was staring into her own eyes and feeling terribly sorry for herself. How pathetic. How repulsive.
Disgusted with herself and unable to stand the sight of her own face for another moment, she turned away and rushed out of the bathroom. A few seconds later, she was downstairs in the living room, that stupid goddamn living room everyone convened in and stood around in all the time, moping.
"We're all going to die," she heard herself saying, as soon as the thought formed in her head. The Cullens – all of them – turned to look at her simultaneously, which was weirdly comedic, even though it wasn't quite enough to elicit a tired chuckle out of her. "We're all going to die tomorrow, and the best thing you can do is stand around feeling sorry for yourselves? This is incredibly pathetic, even for you lot."
Renesmee, who was on Rosalie's lap on that big armchair, burst into heart-breaking sobs.
Rosalie hugged her tightly to her chest and snarled at Irina. "See what you've done!"
Jacob, who was hovering right behind them, glared at Irina as if that was supposed to be intimidating. "Shut your mouth!"
"Why?" Irina crossed her arms below her chest and raised her eyebrows at him, jutting her chin out. "Not saying it out loud won't make it any less true."
"Oh, relax!" That was Jasper, who'd been standing by one of the back windows with Bella, a few steps away from Edward that might just be a million kilometres. The look he gave Irina was not only unconcerned, but cheery. Maybe this was a façade, a mask he wore. Maybe he really wasn't worried at all. It was impossible to tell. "We're not gonna die. It'll be fine; you'll see. I'm as strong as I was in Mexico, Bella is at her best, you are" – He briefly motioned at Irina with a nod of his head – "very useful. We have Emmett, who doesn't need human blood to be ridiculously strong, Edward, who can help with his cute ability…and let's not forget our trump card."
Flexing his bicep muscles, Jacob spun around to him, jaw set, eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare suggest including Nessie-"
"She touches them, they're ours," Jasper cut in impassively, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugging. "It would end the battle before it begins."
"We are not leading a little girl into a warzone!" Carlisle all but shouted. That was so unusual, everyone just stared at him in baffled astonishment.
"She's not a little girl," Jasper said, deadpan. "With her and my help, we can end this conflict without any further bloodshed. Do you want to win this, or do you want to stand around holding hands and singing anthems of peace and love and all that shit?"
"Jasper…" That was Esme.
"Esme," he returned sharply, and then snickered, shaking his head. "People, this isn't a game. Do you not understand that? We're fighting for our lives, here. I hate to break it to you, but you will have to make uncomfortable choices that'll threaten your moral superiority. Now, I'm the only one here with extensive military experience, and I'm telling you that the girl is our best-"
"No," Rosalie said, piqued and thin-lipped, shaking her head, holding onto Renesmee – who was hugging her tightly and had buried her little face in the nook of Rosalie's throat – for dear life. "It's too risky. We have to protect her at all cost."
"That makes our job a lot harder," Jasper said, shrugging again, "but all right. I bow to the will of the majority. Just don't come wailing to me when people start dropping like flies."
Bella, who'd been following this exchange blankly, unmoving, now shook her head and ran out of the room and upstairs in the blink of an eye. Everyone just watched her leave in silence but – surprise of surprises – made no move to go after her.
It was Jasper who said, "Are you gonna do something?" to Edward.
Edward glowered at him, turned to stare out the window, and said, "I should go out and try to find out what happened to Leah. If Sam has her, the patrolling wolves' thoughts will give it away."
"I won't say it, but you're welcome to pick the word I have for your attitude right out of my mind."
"Jasper!" Alice and Esme blurted out simultaneously.
"What? I don't need to be a telepath to know that you're all thinking the same thing. Irina is right: all we do is stand around and wring our hands like goddamn useless damsels in distress. I'd rather be a little more Scarlett O'Hara and a little less Daisy Buchanan, if you don't mind."
"You…what?" Alice said, shaking her head, looking confused. She really hadn't adapted well to not being able to use her power anymore.
"Oh, go read a book instead of Vanity Fair," Jasper said, waved off, and followed Bella upstairs.
Again, no-one said anything. Again, they all just stayed there, immobile.
Irina sighed inwardly at all this useless stupidity and headed outside to watch the setting sun. A small part of her actually was at peace with the idea that this might in fact be her last one. Who knew, maybe it might even mean something, then.
2 Bella just listened to the others bickering, to the same hollow nonsense going back and forth, until she couldn't take it anymore. Before she knew it, she was out of the room and halfway up the stairs. She ran down the corridor and into Edward's (hers?) room, barely stopped in time by the big panorama window, leaned her forehead and palms against the glass, and closed her eyes. There was no thumping of her heart, no elevated pulse, no stomach cramping breath hitching teeth clenching face flushing nothing nothing nothing. This body was a prop, and yet, for all the lack of human physical responses, she felt like screaming. Maybe it would help if she were able to cry.
What was even happening, here? Transformation, pain, alien body, thirst, murder, war, death: that was what the world, what her world had been reduced to. Was her existence as a vampire meant to be this terrible, this short?
This was not what she'd signed up for.
"I had something very different in mind when I decided to become…this," she whispered, when she heard Jasper slowly walking into the room.
"Of course you did. I bet you never thought you and I would become friends, either. Isn't that right?"
"I don't remember," she said, listening to him approach her, knowing beforehand that he would place his hands on her shoulders because she could feel the air being displaced by the movement of his palms. It was amazing what a difference fresh human blood from the vein made – truly amazing. "All I know is that I don't want to die - die again, I mean. Last time, I had a safety net. The vampire venom? I knew that I was not gonna die – not really. I knew that I was gonna change, but that I would still get to stay here and frolic around like a right idiot." A little silence ensued. Finally, she added, "Now, when I go, I'll be gone."
"Yes, you will," he said, almost directly into her ear, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
"You really believe that?" Her voice was a dull, deadpan monotone, but unlike before, she didn't really care anymore. "You really believe that when a vampire gets killed, that they just cease to exist?"
"Yes, ma'am, I most certainly do," he said, using the tone of voice one might speak in when commenting on the weather. "You see, you did die after giving birth. If you ever had a soul, it's gone. It moved on when your human body perished. This is all that's left. That's why it doesn't matter if you murder and plunder and torture, if that makes you feel something – if it makes you feel alive. This existence is the only thing you have, and there is no-one here to judge you but you. When you die, you're gone. There's nothing waiting for you. There is, effectively, no 'other side' for vampires. So, my advice would be this: enjoy yourself, sweetheart, in any way you can, because nothing lasts forever – not even us."
Bella let this little speech sink in for a moment, before opening her mouth to say something in reply. She didn't get that chance, though.
"How dare you sell her that tripe?"
Both Bella and Jasper spun around to see a very livid Edward standing in the doorframe, glaring, hands balled into fists.
"Isn't it what you believe?" Jasper said, completely unimpressed, by the looks of it. Judging by Edward's glower, it wasn't just a masquerade, either, this nonchalant and callous attitude. "That we're soulless monsters? That if anything is waiting at all after we crumble into dust, it's eternal damnation or whatever you want to call it?"
That rang a bell. She remembered snippets of conversations her human self – not her, never her – had had with Edward, wherein he'd explained that transforming someone into a vampire meant killing their soul, meant condemning them to a terrible, unholy, cursed existence. Well, Bella couldn't really find it in herself to disagree with that assessment anymore. She was a monster. She was a plague upon the Earth – a blight that brought nothing except pain and torment and death. She was as far removed from divinity as anything could be. In Edward's face, she could see that he knew this.
"And yet, you still turned me," she said tonelessly. "You didn't allow me to die and pass on to whatever afterlife there may or may not be. You made me into this thing that I am. You didn't care." Her eyes darted to Jasper, who was to her right, and back to Edward.
"You wanted this," Edward said quietly, jabbing his right index finger in her direction. He was trembling slightly, as if barely holding back a terrible tidal wave of rage. "You begged me to turn you – begged me."
"I didn't know," she returned calmly, not having to make any effort to keep her composure at all, "but you did. You knew what it meant to be this. You didn't care enough about me to stop me from throwing my life away."
Edward's mouth dropped open. For a moment, he just stared at her. Then, he pressed his lips tightly together and glared at Jasper, who was watching the scene unfold as if the only thing missing for his complete enjoyment was a bag of popcorn. "Would you please give me and my wife some privacy?"
After exchanging a little look with Bella – and she was pretty sure he only did that to rile Edward up – Jasper said, "Of course," and lazily ambled out of the room.
"Say it," Edward spat at Bella, and kicked the door closed so violently, it shook and groaned in its frame. "Go on, tell me how this is all my fault!"
"Don't yell at me," she said, tilting her head slightly to the side and scrutinising him, cool and utterly unperturbed. "I didn't say that it was all your fault. You are partially to blame, yes, but that's not what I was going for."
He crossed his arms and frowned at her. "What were you going for, then?"
"That you don't know me," she said. It should be hurting and hurting a lot, finally voicing that suspicion, allowing it to become a full-blown realisation, but…it didn't. "I don't know you, either. I head-butted my way into this mess because I wanted to be beautiful and young and rich forever, and you were my golden ticket for that. I know that now. I understand myself so much better after going through the absolute horror that was my transformation, that was learning how to use this new body of mine. The question is: do you understand the truth, Edward?"
In a flash, he was right in front of her, grabbing her shoulders, staring down into her eyes as if willing her to melt in his arms or something of the sort. She vaguely remembered being dazzled by his otherworldly beauty and the sweet scent of his skin, but now, as a vampire, she saw things differently. Whether this was good or bad didn't even matter. She wasn't Bella Swan anymore and she probably wasn't even alive.
Right now, she just was.
"That's not true," he said lowly, as if replying to her thoughts, even though she knew that he couldn't hear her internal monologues. "I do know you, and you know me. You're just confused. We love each other, remember? We went through hell to find each other. It was like finding the one missing piece to our lives' puzzle. Our fates are intertwined forever. We are meant to be."
"That sounds like something straight out of Renée's romance novels," she said, her voice toneless and robotic, and looked unflinchingly up into his eyes. "We don't know each other, Edward – we really don't. I don't even know myself. How can I expect you to? When we declared that we needed to be together, we'd spent a total sum of a few hours in each other's company, most of it being pretty unpleasant. Most of the time we then shared, you pushed me around and stalked me and forced me to do what you wanted and stay where you told me to. I, in turn, manipulated you and-"
"Bella," he cut in, briefly breaking eye-contact, smiling, indulgently shaking his head. "Please, don't be absurd, love. You always get worked up and ready to fight about every little perceived injustice-"
"No, I don't. I actually-"
"- like a ferocious little tiger kitten."
"Tiger…what?" She squinted up at him. "Did you just condescend to me and downplay my anger at your frankly quite appalling behaviour? Did that really just happen?"
"I know you. I love you. I wanted to die when I thought that I'd lost you."
"Which was very melodramatic, granted, but by leaving me here, you kind of put me in a lot of danger in the first place," she returned flatly. "Never mind that, though. You're telling me that you love me. Why?"
He blinked in confusion. There sure as hell wasn't any physical need for that hollow gesture, and Bella was so tired, so sick and tired of hollow gestures.
"I'm sorry, what?" he said.
She shrugged. "It's a simple enough question. Why do you love me? What is it about me that makes me special? That made you think 'it's her, and no-one else will ever do', after all those years you managed to be single just fine?"
After letting go of her shoulders and crossing his arms again, he said, "Well, first of all, I can't read your mind," taking a little step back.
Glad of the slightly bigger distance, she said, "That was the initial allure. I get that; I do. But that's not love. What do you love about me?"
A hint of irritation crossed his symmetrical features. "I don't…"
Old Bella, human Bella would have rolled her eyes. Vampire Bella, however, just kept looking at him impassively. "Tell me three things that are loveable about me, that make me special to you – only three things."
"I…" He trailed off, frowned, shook his head, took a deep and useless breath. "You're very smart-"
"Generic and not even true. Having twenty-twenty hindsight, I can pretty much tell you that I'm rock-stupid. Next?"
He took another little step back, but kept frowning at her. "You're kind and patient and selfless."
"I'm not. Now that I have perfect control over my mental faculties, I have to admit to myself that I was a horrible daughter and a horrible friend who did nothing but manipulate people to my own advantage and judge everyone around me. Next?" She kept her eyes trained on him, unflinching.
"You're very literate. That's a fact."
"It is? What do I read? And name-dropping some generic classics doesn't count. I mean, do I curl up in an armchair with a nice book just for fun? Do I drink a cup of tea or hot chocolate when I'm at it, or whatever? What do I do for fun? Do you know the answer to any of that? Because I don't. I don't remember anything. To be perfectly honest, the suspicion has dawned on me that I didn't have any life outside of wanting to be pretty and rich forever."
"That's…no. No!" He raised his hands defensively and shook his head with vehemence. "Bella, you're panicking again. All of those memories will come back, and we-"
"But that's the thing, Edward: I don't think there is anything that can come back. I don't think I ever used my time to develop any hobbies, any goals, any personality. I just latched onto you because I was horribly shallow. Look at me: I'm a monster. There is nothing human left in me anymore. I might as well not pretend, because it's all gone – forever.
"I threw away all that I had to become a god-forsaken parasite who eats human beings. I didn't know what it would be like, and I wouldn't have agreed to it if I had, but I was perfectly fine with the concept of being stuck in killer-rage mode for at least a year. I was fine with the idea that I might murder people out of thirst for their blood. I thought it would be okay to never see my parents again. I was willing to accept all that because I thought the payoff would be worth it – being pretty and young and obscenely rich for all of eternity. That's not very smart or selfless or kind, is it? Did you feel kind or selfless or intelligent at all after being turned? After dying? Were you okay with waking up in this alien monstrosity that you call your body and finding nothing left of the person you'd once been? Really?"
Wow. That had been a speech and a half. Truth be told, she hadn't even known that she was going to say those things before they came tumbling out of her mouth. How peculiar. How bitter.
"So…" Edward said, after a really awkward silence that couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but felt like a century, "…are you telling me that you don't love me anymore?"
Human Bella might have thrown her arms up in frustration or groaned or buried her face in her hands. Vampire Bella just kept looking at him expressionlessly, unblinking. She only breathed because she thought he deserved an answer to that monumentally stupid question. "Edward," she said deliberately slowly, "I'm now gonna tell you the things about you that I find loveable, that make you stand out – as a person – from the crowd, that make you matter so much to me." She waited, but he did, too. "Nothing."
He took another step backwards. "What?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. I don't know you. I don't know what you do for fun, except stalking, perhaps. I don't know any goals and compelling needs you might have that are unique to you, anything other than generic nonsense that can be said about basically anyone. You are a murderous, judgmental racist who thinks the world revolves around you and who manipulates everyone to dance to your tune. When I needed you, you bailed."
"I tried to help you, but you didn't want-"
"No. You yelled at me and then let Jacob, who is imprinted on someone else, do all the hard work. He made it possible for me to function, and then it was Jasper who taught me to be a vampire."
After just staring at her for a moment, his expression mirroring the utter incredulity he must be feeling, he barked humourless laughter and threw his hands up. "Oh, that's just lovely! Why don't you just come out and say it? You only needed me to turn you, and now that you're turned, you got Jacob for your friendly needs and Jasper for everything else!" A split second later, he was right in front of her again, towering over her, glaring down at her like he meant business.
She didn't budge and returned his look coolly. "I'll just ignore the jab at my two friends and tell you that yes, it's what I've been saying this entire time: I don't know you. You don't know me. We have nothing in common. All we ever did was make each other miserable, manipulate each other, control each other, use each other. We never just sat down somewhere and chatted. The only movie we watched together was Romeo and Juliet, and that was only to hammer some symbolism in that is now lost to me. We didn't even enjoy each other's company – not really. So what is this relationship even built on? Not mutual trust and respect. I used you to get something I thought I wanted. You did the same to me. This isn't love." A little voice inside her head told her that it would be appropriate to reach out and touch his shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but when she tried, he recoiled. "I'm sorry."
His face was a stony mask. "No, you're not," he said, retreating until he'd reached the bedroom door. "I wish I could just run away and never see you again, but there's a battle to be fought tomorrow morning. Perhaps you can make yourself care enough to actually fight for something that isn't yourself."
"Well, that's just unfair," she said, but he'd already left. For a second, she pondered going after him, because it wasn't very productive to have an argument amongst supposed allies right before a great battle for their lives, but she decided not to. She'd said her piece. There was no going back on that one. Even if there was, she didn't want it. She knew that now. Feeling lighter, somehow, she turned to the big window and looked outside at the darkening forest. It was beautiful. Maybe it was the last beautiful thing she'd ever be allowed to witness before the end.
3 There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Leah wanted to get the whole unpleasantness over with before Chief Swan and his ex-wife came back home and she needed to explain her presence in his house. Sitting at the kitchen table with Demetri opposite her, watching her, she dug her own phone out of her trouser pocket and called Sam's number. Her heart started beating faster, and she felt a little queasy.
It rang twice.
"Leah." Sam's voice was terse, but not hostile.
Yes, she could tell from the way he said her name. They'd known each other so well before this whole imprinting debacle. Oh, well. "I'm not with them anymore," she said. No sense in wasting time with pleasantries.
"Jacob let you go?"
Despite herself, she had to chuckle. "Not really. I managed to get the fuck out of there all by myself. I, uh" – She glanced at Demetri – "I'm not by myself, though. I have help."
Sam hesitated for a couple of seconds. "Help? What kind of help?"
This was so silly. She rolled her eyes at her own awkwardness. "Sam, this is gonna sound really bad to you – really bad – but I need you to listen to me for a moment, okay? I know that you must be fucking furious-"
"That's an understatement. If you're trying to tell me not to attack the leeches after what they did to our boys, just shove it where the sun don't shine. We're gonna make them pay for what they've done – especially that little fucker Jasper."
Leah pinched the bridge of her nose and refrained from sighing in exasperation. She had to admit that in his position, her reaction would probably be identical. "Listen to me, Sam. We can solve this whole predicament to our advantage if you just manage to look beyond your rage."
There was a beat. "Wait: are you with that leech that had the gall to show up at La Push?"
The slightly irritated expression on Demetri's face told her that he was perfectly able to understand every word coming out of Sam's mouth. She said, "Let's cut right to the chase, all right? If you attack the Cullens tomorrow morning, you will be slaughtered. They have Jasper, Bella, Edward, Emmett, and-"
"You're with a vampire right now, and you want me to listen to your tactical advice?" Sam laughed bitterly. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Sam, we don't have-"
"They're mind-controlling you, aren't they?"
She bristled. "What? No! I-"
"Tell your new boyfriend that none of us are stupid enough to fall for this shit. He wants the imprintee, he's free to try and get her. We'll be there, doing our duty."
Slapping a hand to her forehead, she said, "Sam, come on!" through gritted teeth.
"Goodbye, Leah. I'm sorry about what happened to you, but if you get in the way of our justice, we'll have no choice but to take you out." Without waiting for a reply, he disconnected the call.
Man, this was stupid! Screaming with frustration, she tossed her phone across the kitchen. It crashed against the wall, cracking one of the white tiles, breaking into several pieces that scattered all over the place. "Fuck!" She jumped up to her feet, kicked her chair, buried her face in her hands, and groaned. After taking about a dozen deep, steadying breaths, she lowered her trembling arms to see Demetri watching her calmly. "I'm not gonna phase; don't worry."
"I'm not worried," he said, his voice level, and slowly shook his head. "Not about you."
"Yeah, tell me about it. That fucking idiot!" She threw a hand up and scoffed. "You know, we're all so firmly entrenched in our positions that all we can see is black and white. Wolves and vamps are natural enemies, right? So it's better to die as a wolf than live as a leech apologist. For fuck's sake!" Feeling suddenly drained, she readjusted her chair and dropped herself on it again. Her hands were cold, clammy, and shaking, whilst her face was burning hot. "And now, I have to explain to Charlie Swan why his kitchen's broken."
"It's not quite that dramatic," he said, still completely composed. "I'll take care of it."
She gave him a withering look. "I am perfectly capable of dealing with my own fuck-ups."
"That doesn't mean you can't allow someone to do something nice for you."
His serenity was maddening all by itself, but she had to admit that it wasn't his fault. Leech or no, all he'd done was be polite and helpful. Right now, they wanted the same thing.
She wasn't a mind-reader, but she was pretty sure that he was telling her the truth. Fury drained out of her like ash out of a broken urn. Her shoulders slumped. She exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry," she said, and tugged down on her old sweater. "This is all just so…I don't know, it's like we're reading lines off a script we're not allowed to deviate from. It's not as if I don't see where Sam's coming from. I don't even think I'd act any different in his position. Thing is, though, I know that a good number of them will die if they attack the Cullens in the morning. Maybe they'll even lose. If they do, what's gonna happen to everyone else in La Push?"
Very carefully, Demetri got up to his feet, walked around the table, stopped next to her, and briefly clapped his hand on her shoulder. "I promise you that I'll make sure your people will be protected."
"How can you promise me that?" she said quietly, looking up into his eyes.
"Trust me," he said, smiling a little. "That's all I ask."
"All you ask, huh? Well, if that's all…"
"You need to trust me, Leah. All I want is to get the dhampir out of the equation and keep our existence a secret from the human population. Protecting your people, allying with you – that's the only logical thing to do, and even if it weren't: I made a promise, and I keep my promises. Trust me."
For another while, she just returned his look, unsure, but then, she nodded. "Fine. You're right: it is the best bet. I'll trust you." She crossed her arms. "What do we do, now?"
"Now, we get you somewhere private so I can get you ready for battle."
She made a face. "Is, uh…that really the only way I can fight tomorrow?"
"You do want to fight, don't you? Or at least show up there and try to keep all of your friends and your brother from dying?"
"Fucking duh, smartass."
"Well, then I'm afraid my way is the only way," he said, holding out a hand. "Come with me if you want to live!"
Snorting laughter and rolling her eyes at the same time, she took his icy-cold hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "God, you're such a nerd."
The corners of his mouth curved up in what looked like a genuinely amused smile. He was much better at this whole human expressions thing as any of the Cullens, hands down. "Proudly so. Now, shall we go?"
"What about Charlie and Renée?"
"I'll leave them a note, tell them that I went to get a replacement tile," he said. "That's easy enough. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything."
"Huh," she said, eyeing him warily. "I must be losing my mind. Just tell me one thing: is it gonna be very horrible, your bit of a solution?" The slightly pained look on his face told her everything she needed to know. She sighed, resigned. "All right, then. Let's get this crappy show on the road – my new life motto."