17
Carlisle had barely left the room when Rosie, Emmett, and James were in the doorway to Edward's room, her eyes shifting from him to her with a longing that had her heart aching. Watching Rosie hurt, knowing it was because of her, had her struggling to breathe.
"Hey, Bella," Rosie whispered, slowly walking over and kneeling next to her and Edward. "Um, we're going to head home now, if that's okay?"
She shifted her eyes from Rosie to Emmett to James before nodding. "My Rosie-Posy."
"Yeah," she cried, reaching for her but pulling her hand back. "I'm your Rosie-Posy. If you need me, I can be here in like two minutes, though. Just tell Carlisle or Esme," Rosie stammered, her eyes shifting to Edward. "Or Edward, and they'll call us, all right?"
She bit the inside of her lip and nodded. "My Rosie."
"Your Rosie," she whispered, reaching out and placing her hand against her cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"
Once again, she nodded, and shifted her eyes to Emmett and James, both of whom stood in the doorway. Rosie scrambled to her feet and fled the room, taking Emmett with her. James lingered for a moment longer before he followed. If she tried hard enough, she could almost remember him. The sound of his laughter, him calling her his little Bella. He was her family, like Rosie was, wasn't he?
"It's late," Edward whispered, causing her to look up at him. "Beth will be up early, so we'd better get some sleep."
"Sleep?" she murmured, her eyes flickering to the bed.
"Come on," he said, standing with her in his arms. He placed her on her feet, but kept his arm wrapped around her as he led her out of his room and into the room next door. He reached over and turned on the light. Again, it was too bright, too big, too nice for her. She wrapping her arm around herself as she looked at him.
"You don't have any pajamas, do you?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Hang on," he said before hurrying out of the room. He came back a minute later with a pair of sweat pants in one hand and a T-shirt in the other. "They'll probably be too big, but they'll be more comfortable than jeans."
"Thanks," she whispered, accepting the clothes and bringing them up to her chest. She could smell him, which she liked. More than she should. "It's safe here, right?"
"Yeah, it's safe here," he told her, placing his hand against her cheek. "Nobody is going to hurt you as long as you're here with us, Bella You have my word."
"Your word?" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
Edward nodded before leaning down and whispering, "I won't let anyone hurt you, Bella. Not ever again." He then kissed her forehead and said, "I'll be right next door, if you need anything."
—SfH—
She'd slept in the closet again. Well, she didn't really sleep. She hid in the closet again. Edward had told her the room was safe, the bed was more comfortable than the floor of the closet, but she didn't like the big room, the soft bed. The closet was better. It was dark and she'd be able to hide if he came for her. And she couldn't sleep because every time she closed her eyes, she could feel him on top of her, inside of her. His hands, his mouth, his . . . everything. So, she sat on the floor of the closet and listened in case he came in.
Early in the morning, well before the sun had started to rise, she heard Beth crying. She wasn't sure she should go to her. Beth wasn't her baby, after all, but she found herself scrambling to her feet and tiptoeing out of the closet, through the vast bedroom, and into the hallway at the same time that Esme slipped out of hers and Carlisle's bedroom.
"Hey, honey," she whispered, smiling. "You heard her, too?"
She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes flickering to Beth's door.
"Go ahead, it's okay," she urged her.
She pushed open the door to Beth's room and walked over to the crib. Being gentle, she lifted Beth and cradled her against her. Beth still cried, causing her to look at Esme with terror. Was she hurting her?
"She probably needs her diaper changed," Esme murmured, placing her hand on her back. "Would you like to change her?"
"Yes," she whispered, and laid her on the changing table. She took a deep breath as she carefully, gently unzipped her sleeper, remembering what Esme said earlier about not catching her tummy. Beth whimpered again, and she shot her eyes over to Esme.
"You're doing a great job," she assured her, placing a clean diaper on the side of the changing table along with a couple baby wipes. "Slip her feet out first and then undo the diaper."
She nodded and followed Esme's instructions, but when she undid the diaper, she gagged when she found it full of poop. "That's gross."
Esme laughed and held out the wipes. "I'd tell you that you get used to it, but you never do."
She smiled and used the wipes to clean Beth's bottom before placing a new diaper on her. She slipped her legs back into the sleeper, and zipped it back up.
"Can you carry her downstairs? She's probably hungry again."
"Bet she'd like pancakes," she whispered, and lifted Beth against her.
She heard Esme laugh before she carefully carried Beth back downstairs and sat on the couch with her. Esme followed and headed into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a warm bottle. She held it out to her, who placed the nipple into her mouth, watching as Beth suckled the milk. Esme settled on the couch next to her, causing her to smile as she looked from the baby in her arms to the woman next to her.
"Thank you."
"For what?" Esme asked.
"Letting me help take care of Beth," she whispered. "I know she's not my baby, but I like taking care of her."
"Oh, honey, you're welcome." Esme reached over and placed her hand on the side of her face, wiping away her tears. "I'm so sorry he took your baby from you, Bella."
"Why did he take her from me, Esme?" she whimpered. "She was mine, and he took her from me."
"I don't know, honey." Esme dropped her hand into her lap. "What did she look like? Can you remember?"
She bit her lip and looked down at Beth. "She was so beautiful. She had a lot of hair. I always thought all babies didn't have any hair, but she had soft black hair, like feathers. And a tiny nose and lips that were so pink and pretty. She had little fingers. She would grab my finger," she said with a smile as she looked up at Esme. "I named her. I didn't have a name, but I wanted her to have a name, because she wasn't a nobody like me."
"What did you name her?"
She looked down at Beth. "I named her Hope."
—SfH—
When Carlisle walked into the kitchen the next morning, he found Bella standing next to the stove with Esme. Both of them were wearing aprons and there were a stack of pancakes on the counter next to Bella, who was laughing and trying to flip one of them.
"You got it, honey," Esme encouraged, and Carlisle watched as Bella flipped it over, the pride on her face was breathtaking.
She had changed out of the clothes Alice brought here and was wearing a pair of Edward's sweat pants and an old soccer T-shirt that had the name Cullen on the back.
"Hope you're saving some for me this time," Carlisle said, causing Bella and Esme to look back at him.
"Nope," Bella said, smiling as she shook her head. "All mine."
"That doesn't seem very fair," he grumbled and walked slowly to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. He leaned against the counter. "Did you sleep okay?"
She frowned, but didn't reply.
"Bella has been such a help this morning, dear," Esme said, giving him a look not to push her too hard.
"Oh?" Carlisle asked.
"Let's see, she got up with Beth last night. Changed a very stinky diaper."
"It was gross," Bella grumbled, before flipping another pancake. "I did it again!"
"Good job." Esme patted her softly on the back before turning toward Carlisle, tilting her head toward the living room. "We'll be right back, okay? Are you going to be all right?"
Bella bit her lip and nodded, her eyes trained very strictly on the pancakes still cooking. Carlisle followed Esme into the living room, and when she turned and faced him, he saw tears in her eyes. She fell into his arms, sobbing as softly as she could.
"Honey, what's wrong?" he whispered, holding her close.
"Oh, Carlisle, that poor, poor girl," she wept, leaning away from him. "The horror that's she's gone through. She gave birth all on her own. I needed a dozen people with me, but that little girl, she was all alone."
"I know," he murmured.
"She named her baby," Esme whispered. "She said she wanted her daughter to have a name, because she didn't, Carlisle. And you know what she named her?"
He shook his head.
"Hope," she wept. "She named her baby Hope, because she was someone and a not a nobody. You have to find Hope, okay? You just have to!"
"Hey, calm down," Carlisle whispered, pulling Esme back into his arms. "I will, honey. I'll find her. Somehow, I'll find her."
—SfH—
They'd just settled at the table when Edward wandered in. Unlike most mornings, he hadn't changed out of his pajamas, or attempted to comb his hair. Carlisle suspected that was in an effort to make Bella feel more at ease, more comfortable. His concern for Bella surprised him, yet at the same time, it didn't. If Elizabeth had been there, she would have loved that girl until the pieces of her broken heart were fixed. Maybe, that's what Edward was trying to do; put her back together again, and himself, too.
"Morning," Edward mumbled, pouring himself a glass of milk before slipping into the set next to Bella, who had a stack of pancakes twice as high as Esme or Carlisle. She was holding a fork and knife, but there was a look on her face that made Carlisle wonder if she knew how to use them. "Sure you can eat all of those?"
Bella smiled and nodded. "I made them."
Edward laughed. "You did?"
She smiled with pride. "Esme taught me."
"Are they any good?" he asked, shifting four pancakes onto his plate.
Once more, Bella nodded.
"Better than hers?" Edward challenged.
Bella shifted her eyes to Esme, before shrugging her shoulders. "You tell me."
Edward's grin widened before he picked up his fork and knife and cut into them. He speared one on his fork and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, making a real show of it for her. Once he'd swallowed, he picked up his milk and took a drink.
Bella huffed. "Well? Are they better than hers?"
"Way better," he said, smiling before shifting his eyes to Esme. "I think she heard me."
Bella frowned and looked at Esme, who pretended not to hear them. "I won't tell her."
"Whew," Edward laughed.
Smiling, Bella stabbed her pancake with her fork and tried to cut them into pieces, but she struggled. Edward cleared his throat, causing her to look at him before he dropped his silverware on the table and picked up one of the pancakes, shoving it into his mouth. Bella laughed and picked hers up, following his lead.
Carlisle shook his head as the doorbell rang, causing Bella to tense, but before she could run away, Edward moved his arm around her, leaning toward her.
"It's not him," he whispered.
"Not him," she echoed.
Carlisle threw him and Esme a look before he hurried out of the kitchen to the front door. When he turned the deadbolt and yanked it open, he sighed in relief when he saw the tall, thin man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a pair of wire-rim glasses on his face.
"Carlisle," Peter Davis said, sticking his hand out. "Gotta say I'm not used to making house calls."
Carlisle shook his hand. "I know, but the circumstances are unique. Come on in."
Peter stepped inside, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his khaki pants and looked around the living room. "So, are you going to tell me why I needed to cancel all of my appointments and rush over here?"
Carlisle nodded and closed the door. "You've lived here a long time, right? In the area, I mean?"
"Almost twenty years," he said. "Lived in Port Angeles until I came here for school. Why?"
"Do you remember hearing about a little girl going missing over in Forks? About eight years ago?"
Peter's eyes widened. "Yes, she was what? Eight, nine years old? Parents were murdered, but they never found her, right?"
Carlisle shifted his eyes to the kitchen before nodding. "I found her, Peter."
"You what? You found her?" he asked, looking toward the kitchen as well. "Is she here?"
"Yeah, it's, um." Carlisle swallowed against the lump in his throat. "It's kind a lot to share with you, but she's not in good shape. It's bad."
"Okay," he murmured, slowly. "So you want me to what?"
"I just need someone to . . . I don't know, evaluate her. She's . . . she's been through hell, and I worry that . . . I worry that . . ."
"What?"
"I worry that she'll never truly recover from what she's been through, Peter," he whimpered, his eyes filling with tears. "She's . . . Well, I'll let you make your determination, but just know, she's important. To all of us."
Peter nodded, so Carlisle lead him into the kitchen where Esme and Edward were seated on either side of Bella, who had her knees pulled up to her chest. She hadn't touched her pancakes, and Carlisle could see the fear in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile before he walked over and sat back down, so that he was across from her.
"It's okay, honey," he said, stretching his hand toward her. Her eyes flickered to Peter before she reached out, placing her hand in his. "This is my friend, okay? His name is Peter."
"Peter," she murmured, shifting her eyes to him. "He's nice?"
"Yeah, honey, he's really nice," Carlisle assured her. "Peter's a doctor, and I've asked him to come by and talk . . . talk to you for a little while."
"Hi, it's lovely to meet you," Peter said, smiling. "You know my name, but I haven't learned yours, so what's your name?"
She shifted her eyes from Carlisle to Edward, who gave her a subtle nod before saying, "They said my name is Bella."
"That's a pretty name," he said, gesturing toward the chair next to Carlisle. "Is it okay if I sit?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Thanks," he said, laughing softly as he pulled out the chair and sat down, placing his elbows on the table. "That's a lot of pancakes on your plate. Are you really going to eat all of them?"
She shifted her eyes to Edward before nodding and saying, "I like pancakes."
"I'm more of a French Toast kind of guy," Peter chuckled.
She just stared at him, like she wasn't sure what his point was.
Peter looked at Carlisle before turning back to her. "You said they told you your name is Bella, right?"
Her eyes shifted to Edward again before she nodded.
"What do you think your name is?" he asked.
"He told me I don't have a name," she whispered. "He told me I was nothing, a nobody."
"He?" Peter wondered. "Bella, the man who took you? Is that the man who told you that you're a nothing and a nobody?"
She barely moved her head as she nodded, her arms tightening around her knees. "I don't want to talk about him again."
"We don't have to," Peter said with a frown. "Tell me what you want to talk about."
Bella shifted her eyes back to her plate. "I like pancakes."
Peter laughed, and leaned back. "Why won't you finish eating, okay?"
She nodded and picked up one of her pancakes, shoving it into her mouth, but her eyes were on him. After a few minutes, Peter gave Carlisle a look, stood up, and walked back into the living room. Carlisle shifted his eyes from Esme to Edward before he followed his friend.
"Holy shit, Carlisle," Peter hissed, turning and facing him. "Where did you find her?"
"You're not going to believe me, but, um, I kind of, almost hit her with my car the other night on the way home from the hospital. I was stopped at a red light and she jumped in front of me. I got her pancakes, made sure she wasn't injured, but she ran off before I could get her to the hospital. I asked Jasper to find her. I just . . . I don't know."
Peter gripped the back of his neck. "Has she told you who took her?"
Carlisle nodded. "Jasper's on it. I just . . . Look, Peter, she had a baby with him, almost two years ago. The way she is with Beth." Carlisle paused and looked toward the kitchen. "Should I be worried? About Beth's safety."
"Honestly?" Peter asked, and Carlisle looked back at him. "Yes, you should. It's clear that girl has been though some pretty severe trauma. That girl is on the brink, Carlisle, and if you're not careful, she's going take you all out when she explodes."
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