A/N: There's a reference to the 1988 movie Child's Play in this. Also, for anyone wondering why Bella is so awful, I am treating her like SMeyer did: as her self-insert. If you know what SMeyer said in defense of her vampires being murderous and getting away with it, you'll understand the reference. If not...yeah, this is stuff the woman actually spouted (albeit paraphrased), and no, it's not out of context. Any spitefic worth its salt has to mention it at least once, and let's be honest, it's very in character for Bell-Bell. As always, thank you for reading. I hope you continue to be entertained!

Chapter Twenty-Six

1 It was about ten in the morning when June Cassidy arrived at the Quileute reservation in her trusted old Beetle. The sky was blue and a pale sun shone, but it was dismally cold. She parked her flower-sticker-adorned little car at Front Street, close to the bus stop, and scrambled out onto the sidewalk wishing she'd opted for wearing a scarf. A sharp, icy breeze was coming in from the ocean. The air smelled briny. Humidity weighed on her shoulders like a sack of bricks. She took a deep, deep breath and shook back some of her carefully arranged, carroty hair. It was always nice to be close to the beach, cold or no cold.

Looking about herself, she found it a bit odd (and off) how deserted the place seemed. Well, it was a workday, and the kids should all be at school, so…yeah, no need to be paranoid. Armed with her purse, she decided to take a look about and gather some first impressions. It was a small, quiet place. The street was flanked by white-ish, wooden bungalows, in front of which stood mostly jeeps. On her way here, she'd passed the picturesque Quileute Oceanside Resort. The beach proper was only a block away.

It might take some time until she found a local, and even more until she found a local who was willing to talk to her. Okay, then. Time to take out the camera and start snapping some pics. She regretted not having woken up Jerry, her trusted cameraman and editor, but she'd be able to handle this on her own, and he'd been in the dire need for some rest. For now, she'd limit herself to taking some nice pics and scouting out the area. Maybe she'd pass by the Coast Guard, ask them a few questions. Who knew? She might even get lucky and-

"What are you doing here, lady?"

She spun around and found herself face to face with a very tall, rather bulky young man, who wasn't just apparently a ninja, but also a master of the disapproving scowl. "Oh, good morning! My name's June Cassidy, and I'm an online reporter. I was hoping-"

"I know who you are," the young man replied, and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dark-blue corduroy jacket. He had short-ish, straight, very dark hair that kept falling in his sharp-angled, tan face. He also didn't look like he was in any mood for chit-chat. "You won't find what you're looking for here. Get in your car and drive away."

She arched her carefully plucked eyebrows, straightened her posture, crossed her arms, and said, "Excuse me, kid, but you have no right to dictate where I can or can't-"

He advanced on her, making her take two little steps backward. "Go away. You won't find what you're looking for here."

Even though her heart picked up the pace and she felt a little queasy, she nearly told him to go shove it. But this was a guy twice her size and not even half as friendly, and there was no-one else around. Tasering the locals should always be a last resort, too. "Fine. I'll leave. No need to get all worked up." Stiffly, she stomped to her Beetle, got inside, slammed the door shut, started the engine, and drove off. Her hands were shaking and she was seeing stars. Should she even be driving like this? Well, what she needed even less was this hoodlum flipping out and wiping the floor with her.

Despite the unwanted adrenaline rush, she couldn't help but think that she really was onto something big – something huge, in fact. It had to be something even bigger than she had ever hoped to dream.

2 "It doesn't matter whose fault it is, Bella. The damage has been done. The public eye is fixed on Forks and on La Push, and we all need to tread extra carefully, now," Demetri said, trying very hard not to sound annoyed as he said the same thing for what seemed to be the millionth time.

They were downstairs in the big living room: himself, Bella, and Jasper. Jacob was tied up and unconscious, Renesmee was tied up and (temporarily) dead, and Charlie was simply sleeping. Demetri could hear him snoring peacefully. Maria was out there doing what she did best: damage control. Two of her underlings were outside, watching the place. The sun had gone up a few hours ago. It was sunny, but the air was cold. Forgoing useless notions of pride, Demetri had stocked the lavish (and rather tacky) marble fireplace and lit a nice, cosy fire. The other vampires clearly didn't care either way.

Standing right in front of said fireplace and enjoying the heat, the merry sound of the firewood crackling and the smoky smell, Demetri crossed his arms, and said, "We need to wrap our operation up and re-join Caius in Port Angeles, but we need to be as stealth about it as possible."

"That may be difficult, especially if you're unwilling to dispose of our loose ends," Jasper drawled. He was lounging on the couch as if he hadn't a care in the world, Bella by his side.

"We are not disposing of anyone, so stop suggesting it," Demetri replied, more weary than angry. "I'd say we leave as soon as possible-"

"And when would that be?" Bella rudely cut in, impassive, as if none of this concerned her. In her mind, it clearly didn't, given the little 'it's all the wolves' fault' speech she'd given a few minutes ago. "We could all leave right now, if it weren't for the Leah situation."

This was enough to make Demetri want to chuck a burning log of wood at her head. Good God, she was cold! This had only got worse during the past few days. "And lugging around the bound and gagged body of a child won't raise any red flags in case we get caught?"

"We won't get caught," Jasper said, all smug smirks and nonchalant shrugs. "I'll see to that."

"Unless there are security cameras that get us on film. It's kind of hard to emotionally manipulate footage."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up. "There's no need to get tetchy, bud. We wouldn't need to gag and bind her or Jacob, and we wouldn't need to stop for rest if-"

"You don't know that!" Demetri snapped, and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself. "I apologise. However, my point still stands. Your powers have no effect on the dhampir, and we don't know if breaking her neck over and over will continue having the same positive effect. Her body is still maturing right in front of us, and it stands to reason to assume that her mind is, too. What if she wakes up suddenly and we are not prepared? She is more powerful than anything I've ever seen, and I have seen beings more powerful than any of you have."

"We'll manage," Jasper said, unfazed. "Thing is, the longer we stay here, the greater the risk of exposure grows. How long until the Feds back home – or that plucky reporter gal – make a connection to Tijuana? How long until someone remembers seeing you or me or the lovely Miss Swan traipsing around the reservation?" Again, he shrugged. "How long until an APB is put out on us and our rental? We have to move, Demetri."

He was so, so bloody tired of everything. "I know. I know. Give me an hour to decide." Without waiting for a reply, he walked away, out of the living room, up the spiral staircase, and into the master suite. Resisting the silly urge to sigh, he sat down at the edge of the huge, king-sized bed and looked thoughtfully down at the barely conscious Leah Clearwater. "How are you feeling?"

"I never thought I'd say this to a vampire," she said, her voice hardly above a raspy whisper, and tried to smirk, "but I'm gonna need some help getting from here to the bathroom." Her complexion was ashen, her eyes sunken in and bloodshot.

The huge, gaping wound in her torso had nearly been the death of her; for a while, he'd been sure that she wouldn't be able to heal herself. However, this woman was as tough as nails. She would survive, but only if she were allowed to rest properly. If they were to move her too soon, the wound might break open again, and that would probably be more than even her body could handle.

"That can be arranged," he said, and nodded slowly. "We have to leave soon, but…" How to finish that thought sensitively? He had no idea how, and scaring her wasn't a viable option.

"But you don't want to move me." She grimaced and coughed dryly, eyes shut closely. Tears squeezed through her thick, dark eyelashes.

Promptly, he picked up the glass of water on the nightstand and helped her take a few sips, before putting it back again. "I'd rather wait for another few days. A little movement isn't bad, but hours upon hours on the road? I wouldn't recommend it."

"If we got to go, we got to go." She cleared her throat and grimaced, obviously in pain. "Did you kill the demon-spawn?"

He shook his head. "I've been told to bring her to Port Angeles."

Her eyes went wide. "That fucking albino."

Briefly, he wondered why she didn't tell him to simply disobey his orders, but he was thankful that she didn't. Perhaps she was getting to know him well enough to realise that he couldn't do that.

"I don't think it's a good idea, either," he said quietly.

For a moment, they just stayed like that, in silence, looking at each other.

Oh, this was so wretched. The ultimatum that Caius had given him simply wouldn't leave his mind. Back at the hotel, he'd had the perfect opportunity to get rid of her, and nobody would have objected. The problem would have solved itself, so to speak, but he didn't allow events to unfold. He'd interfered, making it possible for her body to start its healing process. What did this tell him? That he wouldn't be able to do it. Caius was right about one thing: Demetri was too sentimental to commit coldblooded murder, especially of a person he'd grown to respect, even admire. Even if they hadn't bonded, she had done nothing but try to preserve life and protect people. What had been Leah's crime, exactly? Becoming a werewolf had not been her choice. She'd only ever defended herself and her loved ones, which was what the Volturi did, too. She didn't deserve to die, and he now knew that he was not capable of killing her…not even to save the lives of her kin. What kind of an awful monster did that make him? Whatever the answer was, he was positive that he wasn't going to like it.

That was when she whispered, "Oh, boy. Why don't you just tell me what's eating you before it makes your marble head explode?"

He blinked at her in confusion, but then snickered, sheepishly looked away, and scratched his neck – a physically needless gesture. Pulling the sleeves of his jacket over his freezing hands, he said, "There's no fooling you, is there?"

"Nope. I'm just that awesome."

"Okay," he said, and took a deep breath in order to collect himself. It was a brainless, redundant, useless habit, but he liked the fact that it almost made him feel human again. Forcing himself to face her and to just rip off the metaphorical bandage, he added, "Caius, my superior, gave me an ultimatum because he thinks that I've gone traitor and am now conspiring with your kind against our own. He told me that I had a choice: either I kill you, or he kills your entire tribe." Wow. It was out. There was no taking back these words, make them unsaid, undone. It felt both like a huge relief and like he'd just dislodged the one pebble that would result in a civilisation-crushing avalanche. How strange. How very, very strange.

For a good long while, she just stared at him, her eyes huge in her haggard face, before she cleared her throat and swallowed. "O…kay. I guess you voted for option two, since I'm still breathing and all."

"No." He pressed his lips together, counted to three in his head, collected himself. "No. It's clear to me that I can't kill you; I just can't. But I can't stand by and watch him commit genocide, either. That's not who I am, and it most certainly is not what my coven stands for. Whatever happens, I will shoulder the responsibility for this disaster. I'll do what I can to protect your people. They're innocent, and I can't stand for the slaughter of innocents. I don't know how I can stop this, but I will; I'll think of something. That's a promise."

Again, she just stared at him for a moment. Then, her eyes reddened even more and tears pooled in their corners. She looked away, sniffled, chuckled awkwardly. When she met his eyes again, she was smiling grimly. "Well then," she croaked, reached out, and took his cold hand into her feverish one, "we'll just have to think of something together, won't we?"

For a second, he wished that he could cry, too. Then, he told himself to stop whining like a toddler, and gave her strong hand a very gentle squeeze, saying, "Yes, we will."

3 This time, when Aro left Irina to take care of emperor business (and he'd found the wording in her mind rather funny, he told her), she wasn't simply left in her guest room. No, this time, Chelsea dropped by and offered to take her to lunch. It had been a few days since Irina had fed (oh God, those fifteen campers and Jasper and Bella and the fire all dead so much death destruction horror dead people murder she was a murderer), and she was starting to feel the slightest bit fidgety. Actual symptoms would only start appearing a couple of days from then and would get really hard to bear a week afterwards. A mature vampire needed a lot of blood to sate their thirst, but at least it lasted a good long while until they needed to refuel.

"…and so it is of vital importance that you neither bite them, nor drink too much of their blood. Otherwise, we won't be able to return them safely, and missing tourists always attract attention," Chelsea was saying, as she led Irina down the umpteenth stone corridor at a brisk pace, the heels of her black pumps clacking loudly on the floor. The sound bounced off the wall, announcing their arrival to everyone around long before they got anywhere. "I know it's hard to even smell blood and not pop the fangs, let alone taste it, but you're a thousand years old and a smart cookie. I have absolute confidence in you."

"Thank you," Irina said simply, feeling a little light-headed. What if she did fail? Her track record of controlling herself when feeding on living human blood wasn't all that stellar. She'd fallen off the wagon a number of times, which was the reason why she'd opted for the repulsive animal diet and its terrible effects on vampiric cognitive skills. Being a parasite was one thing. That she could not control. Being a murderer, though? That was a different matter entirely. So many people had died because she had not been able to curb her desires. How much had every single death affected the future of humanity? There was no telling. All that lost potential weighed heavily on her shoulders. It weighed on the shoulders of every person who'd ever taken a life. Yes, a vampire's nature was to kill humans, but vampires were not mindless drones. They were sapient creatures, aware of their own existence and aware of the pain and suffering of those they hunted. Wasn't it their duty to try to rise above their natures? Wasn't it their duty to make sure their instincts and their intellects were in sync? The humans did it all the time. They were animals with million-year-old evolutionary imperatives in their genes, and yet, they mostly managed to overcome the baser aspects of their natures. No, genetic imperatives were not an excuse for murder. They never had been.

After they turned yet another corner, they found themselves in front of a pretty inconspicuous wooden door – a door that was being guarded by two muscular, no-nonsense-looking vampire women clad in practical grey uniforms. Both stepped aside when Chelsea and Irina approached.

"You'll do fine, sweetheart," Chelsea said, sounding genuinely friendly and sympathetic. She touched Irina's shoulder and smiled, before adding, "Shall we?"

Irina only nodded curtly.

Chelsea opened the door and stepped through it energetically.

Somewhat wary, Irina followed. The first thing that hit her senses was the mouth-watering smell of warm, living blood being pumped through human veins. Then, the sound of heartbeats followed. Her throat erupted into flames, and she had to clench her fists and gnash her teeth together whilst pouring every ounce of her self-control into not letting the fangs come out.

That was when she actually saw the room. It was…it was…

…a day spa?

Wait, what?

At least that was what it looked like. The lighting was yellow and soft. There were beds, on which humans were getting massages from vampires. There were couches and armchairs. Some humans were getting a manicure. Others were bathing their feet. A huge hot tub stood at the far end, and a group of humans in bathing suits was lounging in it, chattering happily. Two human women in bathrobes and with towels wrapped around their heads like turbans ambled by. They smiled at Irina out of green-goop-covered faces. One of them was holding a glass with a green liquid in it, out of which a celery stick poked.

What the hell?

Chelsea stopped walking, turned around, saw what must be a look of pure bewilderment on Irina's face, and cracked a toothy smile. "I'm glad I got to be the one to show you all this before my trip. Now you understand why I didn't explain how we entertain our guests during their short stay. It mocks every description."

"You can say that again," Irina said tonelessly. "Wow."

"You should see what this place looked like during the Middle Ages," Chelsea said, took Irina by the wrist, and started towing her along. "We offered people prophylactic treatments against all sorts of things, including the plague."

"But" – Irina pointed at a guy and a woman chatting lively with a very attractive female vampire in a smart two-piece that accentuated her full figure – "how do you make them feel so relaxed if you…you know…"

"Feed on them? Oh, they won't remember any of this. They'll have false memories filling the gap of the few hours we have them, and feel both very contented and a little weary – no worse for wear, though."

That was when the penny dropped. "Ah. Interesting power."

Chelsea crinkled her nose. "Isn't it? The logistics of feeding discreetly were more complicated before we acquired Heidi, but then again, we were fewer in number in those days. It's not just her power, though; it's a combination of hers, of Aro's, of mine, and two others. We believe in team-work down here. It's the only way we can keep living in our stronghold permanently without drawing any attention to ourselves." She led Irina to the voluptuous woman in the dark-red two-piece, who was now standing by herself, peering at a notebook in her hands. "Heidi, my dear, I'd like to introduce you to Irina, our new arrival. She's a bit thirsty."

"It's so nice to meet you!" Heidi chirped, smiling brightly at Irina. She was relatively tall, dark-blonde, and had a beautiful face, all dimples and full lips and long eyelashes. "How do you like our charming little home?"

"I think it's impressive," Irina said, trying to return the friendly expression, but being a bit too baffled to manage. "So…do you feed on them here?"

"Little adjacent room," Chelsea said, pointing at a white door at the far end of the hall. "There's always an influx of people, and there's always thirsty vampires. Customers trickle in and out, nobody notices, nobody cares. It's a system that is pretty complicated, sure, but it has served us well thus far. It's not like we can herd them in here by the busload and then murder them. Powers or no, we'd be found out sooner rather than later, and that might end up being the death of all of us. Naturally, we'll go through great lengths to prevent such a catastrophe from happening."

That made a whole lot of sense, convoluted as it sounded.

"That's what you get for being sedentary," Heidi said, and laughed softly. She was naturally charming – nowhere near as much as Aro, but probably enough to dazzle the tourists. Her memory-altering power though was her real trump card and no mistake. "As a nomad, your life is less comfortable, but feeding is a lot simpler."

"It's even easier if you kill your prey," Irina said, and tried to ignore the increasing pain in her poor, dried-out throat. "My sisters and I survived on animal blood for a long time."

Both Chelsea and Heidi grimaced at that. "Sounds terrible," the latter said, obviously sympathetic.

"It is," Irina confirmed flatly. "It also makes you dumb and slow. So…when could I…" She gripped her throat with her right hand. This was agony! It was getting more intolerable by the second.

"Right now, you poor, starved thing," Heidi said cheerily, took Irina by the elbow, and started steering her toward the back of the hall. "You'll feel better in a moment."

Irina listened to all the different heartbeats. Her throat was in flames, despite the fact that she wasn't breathing. There was no failing. She was not going to be responsible for any more death and misery ever again.

4 The pain was manageable and the nausea bearable, but Jacob simply couldn't rid himself of the syrupy compliance forced on him courtesy of that asshole Creepula. They'd bound Jacob and plopped him on a bed, relying on the vampire venom (and what the hell, Bella? Christ!) and Creepula's powers to keep him subdued. They were right to rely on that, weren't they? There was no freeing oneself out of that unholy combo.

Jacob kept dozing off, but every time he woke, all he could think about was Nessie. Where was she? What had they done to her? She just had to be so frightened, the poor thing. All he wanted was to hold her, protect her, get her away from all these awful monsters who wanted her all to themselves. But things being as they were, he was not going to go anywhere in the near future – maybe never again. He had to admit that was completely useless like this, lying on this stupid bed, paralysed and sedated with supernatural opium. Goddamn.

His thoughts started to get woozy again, and he was about to drift off, when something yanked him back with hooks of steel. It was like a slap in the face, a bucket of cold water on his head, a punch in the gut.

It was a voice in his head – not just a voice. It was the voice. Her.

Nessie.

Jacob. My Jacob. Her sweet, beloved voice was in his head, grabbing his mind mercilessly, dragging it out of its stupor with merciless force. It felt like being pulled naked over a field of broken glass. There was a metallic undertone to the sound, always that undertone – demanding, cold, alien.

Still, this was her. She was his Nessie. She was the most important person in the universe. She might as well be the only one, too.

Honey, he thought, fighting, flinching, trying to ignore how badly his stomach was roiling.

They hurt me, Jacob. They betrayed me and they hurt me. You need to save me. You need to protect me and love me. You need to kill them all.

His heart beat faster. Sweat broke out on his face, dripped down his nose and chin. He was panting. Still, his efforts to move remained fruitless. I would, baby, but I can't. Your mom… He didn't want Nessie to hear him think obscenities, especially not towards Bella.

She betrayed me. She needs to die. They all need to die.

Hearing her sweet child's voice saying these things was weirdly painful, like needles being drilled into his skull, and he had to fight not to groan. Gnashing his teeth together and balling his hands into fists, he thought, I'll do it, honey. I'll do whatever you want. But I don't know how-

You need to kill them! YOU NEED TO KILL THEM ALL KILL THEM RIP THEM APART TEAR THEM UP THEIR SCREAMS THEIR BLOOD THEIR LIVES I WANT THEM WANT THEM NOW KILL THEM!

He convulsed, bit his tongue, tasted blood. It ran from his nose his ears his eyes, sticky and hot, and dripped down his lips his cheeks his chin his throat his chest oh God. Nessie, please calm down, calm down, you're gonna fry my brain please please please I love you please stop! For a moment, there was no reply, but not really silence, either. It was as if his brain were filled with a mix of high-pitched warbling and rumbling static. His eyes were watering, his heart thundering. His whole body trembled.

I'll help you, Nessie's voice finally piped up, flat and cold and blissfully emotionless. I will fix you, and then you will do as I say and kill them all.

I will, honey, he hurried in thinking, eager and relieved and so, so over all of the crap that Bella and her posse were pulling on him and his girl. I'll do whatever you want. I'll be whoever you need me to be – always. Forever. Until the day I die and beyond.

I know, she thought back. I know you will not disappoint me.

5 Bella was standing in the kitchen and looking out at the beach house's back yard without really registering anything that she was seeing. Her throat was itching and her mind kept turning back to the crisp and clear memories of her last meal. Oh, it had been so glorious! How they'd ripped through that camp, how the blood had tasted of salt and iron and sweet release, how beautiful and sharp the world had become, how fascinating it had been to watch Jasper burning the remains of the drained humans. This was something that had always rendered her a drooling moron when she'd still been human: the grace and beauty of all vampires. No, this existence wasn't what she'd pictured, but ever since she'd decided to just give into the dictates of her nature, everything had become so much easier. After all, she was an apex predator and above good and evil. Who were humans and wolves to judge her? Even if they did judge her, she was unbeatable.

Jasper was right. There was nothing wrong with being a monster by behaviour if one was already a monster by design.

She looked blankly ahead and listened to the sounds everyone else in the house was making. Renesmee was still dead, Charlie was snoring and his heart beating steadily (the sound of it made the itching in her throat worse), Jacob was clearly thrashing in pain, Demetri and Leah were talking quietly about their options, Maria's vampiric bodyguards were around the house, and Jasper was standing in the doorframe.

"He should've let her die," she said flatly. "Leah. Why is she still alive? Saving her was stupid."

In a flash, Jasper was standing right next to her. "He can hear you, you know."

"I don't care. It was stupid. She was gonna die. She still might. The Caius problem would've solved itself. Interfering was stupid. It made things more complicated for all of us."

"It is what it is," he said, and suddenly, he was grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing his lips to her right ear. "So we make it less complicated for all of us." His voice was a barely audible whisper.

"What do you mean?" She did little more than mouth the words, not wanting anyone else to understand her.

"I mean," he said, and gave her shoulders a squeeze, "that we take care of Demetri's little moral dilemma for him and solve all of our problems to everyone's advantage. Well, almost everyone's."

"You have a plan."

"I do," he whispered, and she could all but hear the smile in his voice. "I always have a plan, sweetheart."

6 It was nearly noon when Charlie Swan woke up again. Demetri knew before Charlie knew, actually; Charlie's heart started beating faster, his temperature rose, and his breathing quickened. Not wanting to be creepy, Demetri knocked on the closed bedroom door and waited for Charlie to rasp a sleepy, "Yeah," before going inside hesitantly.

"How are you feeling?"

Charlie scrambled up into a sitting position, unsuccessfully tried to sort out his dishevelled dark hair, scratched the stubble covering his cheeks, and yawned. "Better than yesterday, but I still got to wake up into a reality where my only daughter's turned into a marble parasite who eats people and who gave birth to a monster." He cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes. "Don't listen to me, kid. Just didn't get a chance to whine at anyone ever since this all of this crap started."

"You're not whining," Demetri said, and narrowed his eyes in order to be better able to visually examine the cut on Charlie's head. It wasn't infected. "It's a lot to take in."

"I might be slow on the uptake, but I pride myself on not being a complete moron," Charlie said, threw back the covers, and carefully planted his bare feet on the thick, fluffy white carpet. "You're one of those things, but you seem like a decent person to me."

"I'm sorry I lied to you about my identity and my backstory, but the deception was necessary, and I was honest about my intentions."

"Yeah, yeah, need to know and all that. I get it," Charlie said, and waved off. "What's your real name?"

"Demetri."

"You're a friend of Leah Clearwater's." It wasn't a question.

"I am." It felt good, saying this, because it was the truth.

"Then you can't be all bad, vampire or no." Slowly and with hesitation, Charlie pushed himself up to his feet and tugged on the clothes he'd got out of the master suite's big closet. Catching Demetri's eye, he said, "Not a sweatpants kind of guy, I'm afraid," smiling wryly. "How's Leah? I got that she didn't die before I conked out, but the Hale girl's fist through her chest…" He flinched.

"Leah is recovering. I just changed her bandage."

"Good; that's good," Charlie said, nodded slowly, and crossed his arms. "So, uh…where's Chucky?"

Thankfully, this was a pop culture reference that Demetri understood at once. "Lying in the smallest bedroom with a broken neck."

Charlie made a face. "Yeah, I figured breaking that thing's neck wasn't going to permanently off it, but it was worth a try." He rubbed at his bloodshot eyes with the heels of his hands. "I snapped a little kid's neck – kid that's my granddaughter. And here I am, wishing she'd died for good. Not to start whining again, but looking at that little monster and at what my daughter did to herself, I can't help but wonder if Renée and I aren't to blame."

"Your daughter's choices are hers alone. You are not responsible."

"No, but I can't completely wash my hands there, either. I always enabled her selfish tendencies by giving into her tantrums because I didn't want to spoil what little time I had with her. Renée did the same for different reasons. We didn't make her mistakes for her, but we certainly didn't help." Charlie shrugged. "Doesn't even matter, right? Placing blame in retrospect is useless. We all got twenty-twenty hindsight. What matters more is knowing where you plan to take us from here." He looked at Demetri squarely.

"Well, with your permission, sir, Leah and I were planning to-" That was when he heard it: feet running upstairs, air being displaced. A loud clang. Oh, no.

Charlie jumped, his hand shooting to his hip where his gun wasn't. "Damn it!"

"Stay here!" Demetri was out of the room in a flash, down the hall, into the room where the noise was coming from. He was too late, though.