AN: Hello again friends. Short wait this time! I'm trying to get as much to y'all while the going is good. This is also my longest chapter I think. I'm trying to lengthen them more... thank you for your response to the last chapter! This is very much a work in progress, so you will have to forgive my jumpiness with the POVs/timing/everything. Here is a past-POV-less update for you, so we can finally see what a certain someone has been up to...

BPOV

The walls of my room are an off-white that reminds me of Charlie's old t-shirts. The white undershirt style ones, that he had me wash over and over again so he could get the most use out of them. They yellowed more under the arms, at the collar, and along the bottom hem.

I know my father more intimately than I have ever known anyone. I know that when he takes his shoes off at the door, he takes the right off first. When he takes the left off, he removes it in a crossing over motion so it sits on the wrong side of its mate. His shoes sat like that by our door, always. Left on the right and right on the left.

I am staring, I know, with an inappropriate level of concentration at the shoes of the police officer sitting across from me. She is a she, but the shoes are the same.

Her ankles are crossed. Left over right. Her shoes do not look odd, sitting on the wrong side of one another. They look just right.

"Bella, Dr. Ben mentioned that you had something to tell me." Her voice is calm, patient, I hate it.

I chew at my lip. I am not sure where these new trickles of anger are coming from, but when they come they make my throat dry and my eyes sharp. It feels like someone has woken me up from a deep sleep by screaming. It feels like hurting.

I study her. There is no threat that I can see. Tell me then, why are my hands shaking so much they are bouncing off the swell of my belly? Why am I covered in a fine sheen of sweat, for all the world a nervous horse twitching and glistening?

She said that her name is Angela, and she is a detective. She is working together with me, she says. She says anything I tell her, she will believe me.

"…yes, I do." I say it to her face, and feel ridiculous for feeling pleased with myself. I keep meeting her eyes, as if breaking eye contact will break my nerve. I suppose that it would.

"I don't want to ever see my father ever again," I say this firmly, slowly, willing her to understand. "He hurts me. And I don't want him to ever see my children."

"Okay, Bella, when you say that he hurts you, what do you mean?"

"I… I can't go back to live with him, you can't send me back there."

"Bella, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She says this carefully, looking into my eyes in a clear effort to get through to me. "You're 19 now. What you have gone through doesn't change the rights you have as an adult to decide what is best for you."

I nod and look down, finally breaking our eye contact. I bite back tears. It is so truly, truly terrifying, the idea that I am without direction now. I have always lived by dictated rules, and had structure in my life… even in our captivity, Edw-

I hiccup a sob. "I'm sorry, I just…"

"Bella, you don't have to explain yourself to me. What you've been through, I couldn't even imagine. At some point over this next time in your life, though, people are going to be coming after you to hear what you have to say. It's totally up to you, don't get me wrong. But taking some control over your own life, your own story… that's the next important step in healing from this experience."

I know what she is referring to. Our discovery could not have gone without notice, due to the watchful eye of the press. It always sickened me when Charlie watched the news… how the tragedy of others was so fascinating to the public. I am not sure that anyone cares in particular about my story, but hazy memories return to me of my 'rescue'…

Another set of doors, one of which is open. Another room, walls mirrored thrice. Another two beds, one with sheets and one without. Another small cage. Another… man and woman. Blank white wall resumes as I pass this sight by. The nightmare is almost gone from my mind when I see

Another room. Three more mirrored walls. A man sobbing as he gestures to an officer, a girl in a crimson pool at his feet. Her belly swells like mine.

Blank wall resumes.

I shiver. Surely whoever else was found with me, those people must have been missed. I understand what she means, about taking control of my own story. But who could want to hear it? Worthless runaway, homeless girl is abducted. I do not want the housewives of America shaking their head, tsking that these kinds of things happen to girls who put themselves in unsafe situations.

I was safe though, I thought… with Jake, my protector and friend.

I look suddenly to Angela, catching her slightly off guard. "How many others were there?"

She looks at me nervously, slightly from the side, as if my question is inappropriate. Or perhaps she looks at me this way out of fear for my reaction. I start to speak, and offer that I will be cooperative and good and I won't freak out if she tells me.

"As you know, we have been trying to keep you somewhat in the dark as to the conditions we found you in. I know you are anxious to hear what has become of Edward, and that anxiety is understandable-"

I cut her off, frustration bubbling, "Tell me!"

I am instantly ashamed. I did not mean to be so rude, she has been so kind, but I just have to know. "I'm sorry. Please, everyone is going on about how I'm free now, but I don't feel so free when everyone is tiptoeing around me." I huff and slump back, wearied by my outburst.

"I know Bella, I'm sorry. We're just worried about the babies of course…" she sees my eyes studying her still, and sighs, moving on. "Alright…"

She shifts into a more official tone, rattling off information almost faster than I can hear it. "You were found in a warehouse outside city limits. The warehouse is divided into a series of rooms. There is a central control room from which your abuser was able to monitor you, via an advanced system of audio and video feeds. There was also a limited bunker, where we think his employees lived while 'caring'," she scoffs, "for you all. In total, there were ten apartments outfitted within the warehouse. Seven were active, including yours and Edward's. By active, I mean that a pair was being kept within them. So in all, we were able to recover 14 abducted individuals."

Unsteadily, Angela continues, "All 14 have disappeared within the past ten years."

I swallow hard, her words rattle around in my mind. They have sharp edges and hurt to consider… ten years… I blink back tears, amazed at my restraint thus far. I wonder at the fact she is giving me all of this information…

"Was anyone else… um," I cannot finish, my cheeks flame and I cup my stomach. She looks at me with understanding.

"Yes, Bella. It appears that the main focus of the operation was reproduction. I cannot give specifics on any individuals, but I can say that at the time of the raid, all recovered individuals were recovered live." She blinks when she says this, and I freeze.

I study her face more closely. Something is wrong. That was a tell, she was lying to me, I know it. I don't know why, or what she was lying about, but my guard is instantly up. Something else wiggles in the back of my mind, an urgent pest trying to come to the forefront. I pause, let myself process, and it comes to me. It chills me to my core.

"Did you catch him," my voice is small and still hurts my ears and head and, "the voice, the voice did you catch him, do you know where he is, please…" my monitor blares a warning, and an iron guard slams down over Angela's face. She is on her feet immediately and a nurse scurries in, battling her way past the guard outside my door.

I cannot breathe properly, and tear the plastic tubing from my nose where it sits so uncomfortably, struggling to rise. I am so sick of sitting in this bed, I am so sick and I cannot breathe, I know I know he is out there still, I need to go I need to run,

They are restraining me and bustling around me, putting a mask over my face, and I can see Angela studying me before they escort her from the room. I can see it in her eyes.

They have no idea where he is.

EPOV

The hardest part has been missing her breathing.

No, maybe missing her eyes, the few moments I could see them looking at me. Like she was looking right at my soul. Fucking cheesy, I know.

I think I might miss her toes the most. She wiggles them in her sleep… wiggles is the wrong word, it's more like they slightly move up and down, slowly and thoughtlessly.

Or her hair… long and shaggy as ours got, hers had the prettiest natural wave to it. Neither of us were particularly clean, given the cirumstances, but her hair managed to look beautiful. A deep wood color, yes like wood grain, with hints of this and that in it. It would lay heavily over her slight back…

I try folding my dense pillow under my head. It is thick and cold, just the sort of pillow I loved when I lived here… once long ago, it seems. I was kept 1080 days. Just under three years. My house had been kept exactly as I left it. I blink in the dark, looking to the nightstand. Without the housekeeper and tireless efforts of my family, a cup of water from nearly three years ago would be sitting on that stand.

I wonder how much that cup would have had left in it. Would it have been full of algae and life? No, I suppose a glass of water would not take long to evaporate. I close my eyes, frustrated by these thoughts.

I picture my girl's face. My survivor. She made it… I know that much in my heart. I know she is still alive. Despite her ghastly health, despite that parasite draining her of our few nutrients…

Last I saw her, her ankles cracked so hard every time she stood that she would wince and pause. Her skin bruised if I looked too hard at her, it seemed.

Wherever she is, I worry that she is not being guided, not being supported. Every moment that goes on without her, I have to stave off the panic. The panic at not knowing what she is doing, thinking… it drives me up the damn wall. How are they helping her when she gets upset? The worst thought of all… what if they have returned her to the sick fuck that was hurting her before she came to me? Before I could be the one to protect her?

No, you stupid shit. You didn't protect her at all. You did every fucking thing he said, didn't you, you sick fuck, you probably loved it too…

I leap up, wrenching my hand through my unruly hair. It is unmanagable, still past my shoulders. I haven't had a moment to reclaim my humanity, I can't take care of myself, I couldn't take care of her…

A bright knock at the door has me instantly on guard, and I am ready to snarl at whoever walks through it. My heart is in my ears, but it is only Alice. She peeks her head in with a smile, which she carefully maintains even while taking in my appearance. I know I must be shocking her… I stand ready and poised to the side of my bed, pinned close to the wall and trembling. I force myself to step forward and shake it off.

I give her a half-heartened grin, croaking, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep."

"I was just checking to see if you needed anything! It's not so late, don't worry about it at all. I was thinking-"

I look up at her, and whatever is on my face cuts her off. She pouts, but it's not silly. She sighs and walks over to me, arms outstretched.

It makes me really fucking sick, bile rises in my throat, but I accept her huge, dwarfing her tiny frame in mine. This simple act of intimacy with the person I've spent my whole life with… it's hard for me. And that hurts, it really hurts.

"You're worried about her, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Dad says he's speaking to his lawyers and yours, they're doing everything they can… you know the police are still worried about you. The lawyers don't think she's asking for you, Edward, I know that's hard to hear, but-"

I growl and push her away, furious quickly. I stalk to the other side of the room, turn quickly on my heel, and get in her face again. "Alice, I know she fucking needs me, okay? I know her, I fucking know her, she can't hold it together for a second without me!"

"Edward, she can't be asking about you. They would have let you see her, I'm sure of it! Nothing else makes any sense." I start to cut her off, but she holds a finger up to my face. "You need to work on your own healing, okay? I know that's frustrating to hear, and you want to be Mr. Protective, but the best thing that you can do for that baby is get yourself straightened out first."

I know she's right, but it doesn't make it any easier to hear. How can my girl, my sweet girl, the one I made sure would survive… why isn't she asking about me? She must be. Better yet, why aren't they giving her what I know she's asking for?

"Alice… I know it doesn't look like it, after all that sick fuck made me do. But I saved her. She was broken when he gave her to me, but I kept her alive all this time."

Alice shakes her head, looking down at the floor. She crosses her arms over her chest, and my sweet sister suddenly looks very, very tired. "Listen, Edward, I can't even begin to understand what y'all went through. But what I do know is that all this bullshit with the police, the press, everything… it's going to clear up as soon as they find him. And if you really care about her-"

I give her a warning look, resisting the urge to lift my lip and bare my teeth like the fucking animal I've become.

"-which I know you do, then you will let her come to you."