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She tried to process the words her pancake man had said while they were talking to Jasper and Garrett: "No, you were not hurting her, Bella. You were being a good mommy."

A good mommy.

Her pancake man called her a good mommy, but she wasn't, was she? She hadn't been gentle enough with Hope, and that's why he took her away. She'd cried and begged, told him he could do whatever he wanted to her, not that he didn't already. But he just pushed her to the ground, cradled Hope against his chest, and locked her in the darkness. That was the moment she wished she'd been strong enough to end herself, instead of waiting for him to get tired of her. She didn't want to live in a world without Hope.

As they walked back into the house, she smiled when she saw Esme sitting on the floor with Alice and Esme, baby Beth laying on a blanket between them. She wanted to hurry over and snuggle the baby, but she didn't, because Beth wasn't her baby. She belonged to Carlisle and Esme, not her.

"Hey, just in time, honey," Esme said, lifting Beth off the floor and standing up with her. "She was starting to get hungry. Can you help me warm a bottle for her?"

She bit her lip as she looked at Edward and nodded, but when she tugged on his hand to go to the kitchen, he pulled his hand away from her, causing her to frown.

"You help with Beth," he said, smiling, though there was something different about the way he looked at her. "I'm going to go upstairs for a minute. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, and watched as he hurried upstairs. Maybe he didn't want to be her friend anymore, now that he knew what she had done, and she hadn't even told them everything, and now, she never would. How could she when the easy stuff caused him to turn away from her?

"Let's go, honey," Esme said, placing her hand on her elbow and drawing her attention away from Edward and back to her. "Come on."

Bella shifted her eyes back toward the stairs, before nodding and following Esme back into the kitchen. She went to settle in the chair, but Esme led her to the refrigerator, and pulled out one of Beth's bottle.

"You're going to hold this under hot water for a few minutes," she explained, and she did as she was told. "Tell me about Hope again."

She sighed. "She was little, and she had a lot of hair. Soft, fluffy hair. She was beautiful and perfect." She paused, feeling her lips tremble. "Sometimes, when he left me alone, I imagined what she would be like right now. She'd be big, right?"

"Yes, I bet she would be," Esme murmured, bouncing Beth in her arms. "Why'd you name her Hope?"

She smiled. "I wanted to be a dancer before . . . before him. I'd just started taking ballet, and I loved it. I wasn't very good, but Mommy would say our hopes and dreams could carry us into the world, we just . . . we just had to hang on. When he took me away, I used to dream that they weren't dead, that they would come set me free. My dreams didn't come true, but she was my Hope for a life where I wasn't a nothing, a nobody anymore. I wanted to be someone, I wanted to be someone special. But I'm not, not without her. Maybe I never will be."

She pulled the bottle out of the water and handed it to Esme. She wrapped her arms around herself as she left Esme and Beth in the kitchen and walked back into the living room, where she found Alice sitting with Carlisle. She ducked her head as she turned away from them and hurried upstairs, stopping in the doorway to the bedroom as Edward walked out of the closet. He paused and looked at her before stretching his hand out to her.

"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered, and there was something about the urgency in his tone that sent shivers down her spine.

She lifted her hand and placed it in his, letting him tug her toward him. He smiled and moved backward toward the closet, and when they stepped inside, she smiled, because inside of the small space was a make-shift bed made of blankets and pillows. A small string of lights had been hung around the door.

"Thought maybe this would make you feel a little safer," he said, pulling her over and sitting on the pile of blankets with her next to him. "At least until we can get your room fixed up for you."

"You did this for me?" she whimpered. "Why are any of you doing anything for me? Why, Edward? Why?"

Edward shifted so that he was facing her, bringing her hand up to his lips. "Because you deserve to be loved, Bella, and we do — we all love you. I . . . I love you."

—SfH—

When they arrived back at Carlisle and Esme's house, Rosalie watched her little sister hurrying into the house with Edward and Carlisle flanking her. Thankfully, the press hadn't found out where she staying, at not yet. At least there was still one place they could keep her safe, keep her from being exploited. Emmett and Rosalie had followed them up the porch, but she had needed a minute to . . . Shit, she didn't even know. Process everything her sister had told them? Not that she ever would, not really.

"You're scaring me, babe," Emmett whispered, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her against his chest. As always, he knew exactly what she needed, when she needed it. It hadn't been easy for her to tear down her walls and let him love her, let him soothe away the monsters of her past, but she did. And now, when she needed him the most, he was there, holding her, loving her.

"I knew it was bad," she whimpered, laying her head on his chest. "I mean, how can you not know just by looking at her? But I wasn't . . . he locked her away, Emmett, like she was a doll. He locked her away in a box, and took her out when he wanted to play with her? What kind of sick, twisted son-of-a-bitch does that to a little girl? She was only eight years old, for fuck sake, and he treated her like she was nothing more than a . . . than a whore!"

"I don't know, honey," he whimpered, and when she looked up at him, she saw tears in his eyes. "I want to help her, Rosalie, but I'm not going to lie to you. This whole thing scares the shit out of me. Sam Uley is a dangerous motherfucker, babe. If he gets out and finds out where she is, I don't know if we can stop him, you know? And I'm man enough to admit that scares me."

"Me too," she admitted, turning and wrapping her arms around one of the white pillars. "You know, after she went missing, people said she had to be dead. They said there was no way a little girl could have just . . . vanished into thin air. They said I should just move on, get on with my life, you know? My mom and dad were dead, Bella was just gone, and I was supposed to just move one, pretend I wasn't dying a little bit every single day. But I couldn't, Emmett. I just couldn't because I knew, in my heart, I knew my sister was alive." Rosalie looked over at him. "But that girl in there, she's not the same Bella she was when he stole her from me. He broke her, Emmett. He locked her in a box and broke her spirit, and I don't know how to help her."

"I don't know either, but we have to find a way," Emmett murmured, sliding his arm around her again. "We have to find a way to put her soul back together. For you, for our family, but especially for Edward."

Rosalie nodded, knowing that Edward was in love with her little sister, but worried whether Bella would ever be able to love him back. After all, Sam Uley had torn her soul apart the second he laid eyes on her. Maybe Bella was too damaged to tape back together again.

—SfH—

Jasper wanted to hate Kate Denali. He wanted to hate her, but he knew she was right. The only way to put Sam Uley away for the rest of his life was to find Bella's daughter, Hope, but how in the world were they going to find a baby that nobody knew was even still alive? For all they knew, Sam Uley snuffled the life out of that sweet baby girl and threw her away like she was a piece of trash, like he had their Jane Doe on Bainbridge Island.

Kate hadn't been gone more than five minutes when Newton, Crowley, and Yorke came waltzing in, a smugness around them that infuriated him. Before Jasper realized what he was doing, he found himself across the station house, the front of Yorke's shirt clenched in his fists, and slamming the man against the closest wall he could find. Newton and Crowley were quick to yank him off their boss, while everyone inside the station house stood absolutely still.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Detective Cullen?" Yorke snarled, pulling on the front of his shirt. "I could have you fired for that."

"Oh, but you won't," Garret quipped, moving over and standing just inches away from the man. "You know why I know you won't?"

"Why?"

Garrett leaned closer. "Because then I'll tell anyone who will listen how you leaked the name of the only person who can put Sam Uley away for the rest of his miserable life. Because I'll make it my mission, Captain Yorke, to make sure everyone know how you and your detectives fumbled the investigation into the kidnapping of an eight year old girl, when the man who took her had already been accused of raping two other little girls in your backyard and you did absolutely nothing to stop him," Garrett snarled.

Yorke shifted his eyes around the station house before looking at Jasper and then Garrett. "We did the best we could."

"Bullshit," Jasper groused, yanking his arms out of Newton and Crowley's grasp. "You said you talked to Sam Uley the night Charlie and Renee Swan were murdered? How could you do that when he was transporting Bella to that house in Bainbridge Island and locking her in a fucking wooden box?"

None of them said a word.

"That's what I thought." Jasper folded his arms in front of him. "James Swan told you Charlie had concerns about Sam Uley, and you didn't think you should bother finding his whereabouts, did you? Too afraid to go onto the reservation without permission? Or maybe you were just too lazy to save a little girl from eight years of being brutalized by a fucking psychopath."

Again, none of them spoke.

"And then what do you do? You throw that little girl out into the world when she was barely keeping her shit together? Did you even think about how she would feel when she woke up this morning and saw her picture being plastered all over the news? Or were you too busy trying to save your own ass by playing the Goddamn hero?"

And once more, the three men stood silent.

"You make me sick," Jasper spat before turning and walking back over to his desk, picking up his laptop and walking back into the conference room. He stopped in the doorway, before looking back at each one of them. "You'd better hope we can find her baby. You just put a timer on that little girl's safety, gentlemen. If we run out of time and something happens to her, I'm going to hold you each personally responsible, and I have very long reach."

And then Jasper turned and walked into the conference room, slamming the door behind him. He blew out a heavy breath before sitting back down at the table, opening his laptop, and starting his own search for Baby Hope.

Please, he thought, let that little girl be out there. Not just because it was the only way to keep Sam Uley locked away, but if they couldn't find Hope, Bella Swan had nothing else to live for. Except for Edward, he though. Except for Edward.

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