"What do you mean, you don't remember?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a splitting headache and now the officer who was interrogating me for the last half hour didn't seem to have the brain capacity to understand English. I sighed, messaging my temples. "Listen," I squinted at his name plate, regretting it immediately as the throbbing in my head increased tenfold, "Felix is it?" He glanced down at his name plate, before tapping his pen impatiently on his notebook. "I don't know what happened last night. I don't recall, I have no recollection, I can't remember what happened."

"Ms Cullen."

"Alice." I interrupted him.

"Ms Cullen," He just ignored me. "Did you shoot Isabella Swan?"

I was on my feet, leaning over the table without even thinking about moving, "Bella was shot?"

I didn't even hear or see the officer move behind me, suddenly he was just there. He gripped my shoulders tightly forcing me back onto the cold steel chair. "Should I cuff her?" He asked Felix, his hands still firmly gripping my shoulders.

I slammed my fist on the table, "Is Bella alive?"

The officer restraining me pushed me down on the chair harder and I winched as his fist bore into my shoulders. Felix took his time scribbling something in his notebook. "That's enough Laurent." The officer let go of me and disappeared back into the shadows of the room.

I focused my attention back on Felix, "Is Bella alive?" Every muscle in my body was tense, my heart pounding and I was barely breathing. What the fuck happened last night?

"She is alive." He closed his notebook, "For now." He sat back studying me. "Now, should we try this again? What happened last night?"

"What do you mean, for now?" I counter asked, it felt like my soul was being ripped from my body. Bella cannot die.

"I'm the one asking the questions, Ms Cullen. You got yourself into quite the predick…"

"Listen here you fuck, the last thing I remember from last night is that I was leaving a party and was on my way to Bella. Next thing I now I wake up in your cell. By the way that place reeks of piss and sweat. I have a splitting headache and stitches in my neck. I barely had time to rub the sleep from my eyes when I was cuffed and brought here, where you've been asking me the same question over and over again."

There was a knock on the door. "I'm going to go see what that's about while you calm down." He clicked his pen, rising from his chair.

"Please." I pleaded. "Is Bella okay?"

He ignored me, opening the door. "Please " I begged, not caring that I sounded a little pathetic.

He paused in the doorway for what felt like eternity, "She lost a lot of blood. They had to resuscitate her twice on the way to the hospital. We're still waiting for her to wake up from her coma." With that he closed the door behind him.

What the fuck happened last night? I rested my head in my hands, trying my best to recall what happened after the party. I had said goodbye to Emmett. I got into my car and…and… nothing? Why can't I remember?

The door opened and a model strode into the room. Surely he wasn't a model but he looked like one. His bronze hair was perfectly styled. He wore an expensive suit, too expensive for Forks. I didn't have to see his shoes to know that they were polished. He sat down, clicked a fancy ball point pen before looking at me, studying me. "Would you like something to drink?"

I wasn't fooled his good cop routine was not going to work on me. "How long has Bella been in a coma?"

He studied me again. "Interesting, most killers don't ask about their victim's wellbeing."

"I'm not a killer!" I shouted.

He wrote something in his notepad. "Are you not? You had the gun in your hand. We found traces of GSR, that's gunshot residue if you don't know, on your hands and clothes. There was no evidence of a third person on the scene. She did not have any weapons on her. There was no GSR on her clothes. Do you see how all the evidence says you tried to kill her?"

"I don't give a flying fuck about what your evidence says, how long has Bella been in a coma?"

He wrote in his notepad again. "Ms Swan hasn't gained consciousness since her operation."

I didn't have to be a doctor to know that that wasn't good. The first twenty-four hours after a surgery was crucial. "You have to find out who shot her."

He sat back, folding his arms. "We have, you're being charged with the attempted murder of Isabella Swan."

"I did not shoot her. Why would I shoot her? I love her!"

He wrote in his notepad again. "Was that way you shot her? She did not feel the same way and if you could not have her then no one could?"

What the fuck was with these people. "I already had her. We were celebrating our six month anniversary."

"You were in a relationship?" He scribbled away in his notepad again.

"Yes, haven't you been listening?" I said running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"And you didn't have an argument?"

I half smiled, "We always have arguments. But you would have to know Bella personally for that to make sense."

He studied me again. Then as if deciding something he leaned forward. "Okay Ms Cullen,"

"It's Alice."

"Alice" He corrected, "Here are the facts. Something happened last night. Bella got shot, there is a cut on your neck and if you are not the shooter then that means there is someone out there that wants you and possibly Bella dead."

Silence filled the room. What if what he says is true? Did someone want me dead? Was Bella in danger? Could I have shot her? "Then we have to figure out what happened." I deadpanned.

"Tell me what happened."

My head pounded again. "I can't remember."

"Try" He said making himself more comfortable in his chair, his pen at the ready. "Start at the beginning. Tell me everything, don't leave anything out."

I closed my eyes and thought back to that fateful rainy day. The best day of my life, I just did not know it yet.

"I was taking flowers to a funeral…"