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She hadn't realized she'd been rocking back and forth until she felt Rosie place her hand on her elbow. The tears that had been swimming in her eyes spilled down her face as she scrambled to her feet, and hurried into the bedroom. She crawled into the closet, pulling her knees up to her chest.
She needed Hope. Needed her. Hope was supposed to be her chance to be someone, and not a nothing, a nobody, and it wasn't fair. Hope was her daughter, hers, and he had taken her away, and now Hope had a new mommy.
One that wasn't stupid.
One that was probably gentle.
Not like her.
"Honey, it's okay," Rosie said, settling on the floor of the closet with her. "We're not giving up."
She shook her head.
Rosie sighed, bringing her own knees up to her chest. "Do you remember Daisy?"
She shifted her eyes to Rosie, and nodded. "Mommy and Daddy gave her to us for Christmas when I was five."
Rosie smiled. "We'd begged and begged and begged for a puppy, but Daddy kept saying no, they were too much work, too expensive. When we got up Christmas morning and rushed downstairs, just sure there was going to be a puppy under the tree with a big red bow. But there wasn't, and we were so sad. Momma and Daddy came down, and Momma made us breakfast."
"Pancakes," she whispered. "With blueberries."
Rosie grinned. "You didn't like them, so she made you just plain pancakes."
"The blueberries were mushy and gross."
"Yeah, I guess they were."
"After we ate, we went to open presents," she whispered. "My first one had a dog bone in it."
"And mine had a leash." Rosie laughed. "Momma and Daddy just laughed as we opened each one: dog toys, a sweater, collar. After we'd opened all of them, Daddy said we had another present in the garage. He held his hands over your eyes while Momma covered mine, remember?"
She nodded. "I stubbed my toe on the couch. I said a bad word and Mommy threatened to put soap in my mouth."
"I'd forgotten about that," Rosie giggled, reaching her hand out and she wrapped her fingers around it. "When we walked into the garage, we heard her. Do you remember?"
She whimpered. "She was so little and fluffy."
"You cried and picked her up, and she licked your face, and you said . . . you said it was the best Christmas you'd ever had."
"It was," she whispered. "I miss her."
"Me too," Rosie murmured, scooting closer. "We're not giving up on Hope, Bella, but you need to understand that there's a chance that Hope won't be able to come live with us, okay? At least, not for a while."
"Because Hope has a new mommy," she grumbled, trying to tug her hand away. "A better mommy, one that's gentle and good. Not bad like me."
"No, sweetie, you will always be Hope's mommy. But right now, you need to heal, you know?"
"Because of him?"
Rosie frowned and nodded. "You've been so strong, and so brave, Bella, and it's okay to be sad and angry that he took her from you. You should be, because I am, but you know, it's also okay to let yourself heal from . . . from him and all the bad things he did to you."
"But I need her," she whimpered, tightening her arms around her knees. "She makes me someone. Without her, I'm nobody again."
"Oh, honey, you will never be a nobody again." Rosie kissed the top of her head. "Never again."
—SfH—
Rosie held her until they heard the front door open and close again. She felt her shoulders tense, but relaxed when she saw Jasper standing in the doorway to the closet. He shifted his between the two, and though she could tell he tried to hide it, she saw the disappointment in his eyes. Probably because she was crying again. Only bad girls cried, and she was a bad girl.
"You know," Jasper said, squatting in front of them. "That cupcake isn't going to eat itself."
She shrugged her shoulders. "You can have it."
"Hell no!" he laughed, smiling. "I bought that for you."
She frowned.
"Hey," he said, causing her to look back at him. He stretched his hand out toward her. "Come try it. If you don't like it, you won't hurt my feelings."
"Okay," she whispered, placing her hand in his. He gently tugged her to her feet before reaching for Rosie, who laughed, and said, "Thanks, Jay. Getting old sucks."
"You ain't old, Rosalie," Jasper scoffed. "You're barely twenty-one."
It may have been her imagination, but she swore Rosie looked at her before she said, "I feel old."
She bit the inside of her lip as she followed Rosie and Jasper out of the bedroom and into the living room. She sat on the couch and reached for the white box holding her cupcake, but paused when someone knocked on the door again. She stood up, her eyes shifting between Rosie and Jasper and the door to the bedroom, wondering if she had time to make a break for it, but Jasper put his hands up before he turned and walked over to the door. He looked back at her before he pulled it open.
Once more her eyes filled with tears. Her pancake man was here.
Carlisle shifted his eyes from Jasper to her before he smiled, and said, "Hey."
"Hi," she whispered.
Carlisle opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could say anything else, she threw herself across the room, wrapped her arms around him, and sobbed against the front of his shirt.
"Oh, honey," he murmured, one arm wrapping around her while the other came to rest on the back of her head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know," she cried.
Carlisle shifted her over to the couch, sitting with her next to him. "When I promised that I'd find Hope, that I'd bring her back to you, I meant it, Bella. And I still do. I'm going to do everything I can to get Hope back."
"Rosie said it might take a long time because of what he did to me," she whispered, biting the inside of her lip.
Carlisle frowned and nodded. "She's right, it might."
She sighed and looked back at the white box. "Why'd he want me? I wasn't a good girl. I cried all the time. He would scream at me, call me ugly and stupid. Why couldn't he just let me have her?" she asked, looking back at her pancake man. "I'd have let him do whatever he wanted to me if he had let me keep her."
Carlisle shifted so that he was facing her. He took her hands in his before saying, "You are not ugly or stupid or bad or anything else he ever called you, Bella. You are beautiful and smart and good and brave," he whimpered. "Sam Uley is a bad man, Bella. He stole you away from Rosalie. He killed your mom and dad, and he . . . Well, honey, he abused you. He is bad. Not you."
"Why?" she asked. "Why is he like that?"
Carlisle shook his head. "I don't know, honey. I just don't know."
She bit the inside of her lip as she looked back at the white box on the table. "I'm not bad?"
"No, you are not bad," Carlisle said.
"Is Beth okay?" she asked.
Carlisle smiled. "Esme said she's been a little fussy today. Said she thinks she misses you."
"I miss her, too," she whispered.
"Maybe tomorrow we can bring her over for a little while," he suggested. "Would you like that?"
She quickly nodded, looking over at Rosie. "Is that okay?"
"Of course," Rosie said with a grin, but before she could say anything else, someone knocked on the door.
Jasper threw a look at Carlisle before he turned and walked over to the door, pulling it open. She groaned inwardly when she saw Peter standing in the doorway with a tall, thin man with dark hair and eyes. He reminded her of Daddy. Jasper gestured for them to come into the apartment, and she could feel the panic creeping over her. There were too many people, it made her scared and nervous.
"Hey, Bella," Peter said, smiling as he placed his hand on the shoulder of the man next to him. "This is Marcus. Marcus, this is Bella."
"Hi," he said, tilting his head toward her. "It's nice to meet you."
She nodded and she felt Carlisle tighten his grip on her hands.
"Can I sit?" Marcus asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
Marcus kept his eyes on her as he walked over and settled on the couch across from her, leaning back and crossing his legs at the knee. For a long moment, he just stared at her and then he turned to Rosie. "I didn't get your name."
"Oh, um, Rosalie," she stammered, her eyes shifting to her before she added, "But Bella calls me Rosie."
Marcus smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Rosalie. Don't suppose you have any coffee?"
"Um, yeah, sure," she murmured, turning and rushing into the kitchen.
Marcus looked at Jasper and Peter, who followed Rosalie into the kitchen just leaving her, him, and her pancake man alone. "I don't know about you, Bella, but I was getting uncomfortable with all the people here."
She nodded.
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Do you know what a trauma therapist is, Bella?"
She shook her head.
"Do you know what trauma is? What the word trauma means?"
She bit the inside of her lip before she looked at Carlisle and shook her head.
"Trauma is the lasting emotional response that is often the result from living through a distressing event. Do you understand what that means?"
Once more, she shook her head.
"It means that sometimes when a person has gone through something really, really hard, they don't always know how to process the emotions that come with it. Do you understand?"
"I think so," she whispered.
He smiled. "The role of a therapist is to help the person understand their situation, teach strategies to express themselves, and cope with potentially stressful situations."
She nodded, biting the inside of her lip.
"I'm a trauma therapist," he added. "And I would really like to help you."
Her eyes widened, and she looked from him to Carlisle, who gave her quick nod. She turned back to Marcus. "Help me how?"
"Help you heal from the trauma you experienced with Sam Uley."
She inhaled a sharp breath. "What do you mean?"
"Sam Uley kidnapped you, Bella. He held you captive for eight years. You understand that, don't you?"
She frowned.
"Do you?" he pressed.
"I mean, kind of," she fretted. "He told me I had to go with him. He said I was bad and that's why he hurt them. If I hadn't cried, he wouldn't have had to hurt them."
"That may be true, or that could be utter bullshit," Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders. "But that doesn't explain why he locked you in a box? Why he raped you? Why he stole your baby?"
Her eyes filled with tears and she pulled her hands out of Carlisle's, wrapping her arms around herself.
Marcus tilted his head to the side. "Take a deep breath for me, honey."
"How do you know that?" she whimpered.
"Peter filled me in," he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. "The press confirmed a lot. Not hard to put two and two together, seeing as Sam Uley is psychotic pedophile."
She frowned, her eyes closing as her tears fell down her face.
"Before he took you, what was your favorite thing to do?"
Her eyes snapped to his. "I, um, I don't know."
"Sure you do," he urged. "Think about it. You were a little girl. You probably laughed all the time, didn't you?"
She frowned, but nodded.
"What made you laugh? What made you happy?"
"I, um . . ."
"She danced," Rosie said, drawing everyone's attention to her, Jasper, and Peter. "She loved to dance. All over the house, the yard. She had just started taking ballet, and she was really good, too."
"No, I wasn't," she murmured. "Daddy said I tripped on my own two feet."
"Maybe a little, but the way you smiled made it worth it." Rosie set the tray of coffee on the coffee table and walked around, sitting next to her. "I've missed that smile, Bella. Missed it so much."
"Me too," she whimpered.
"If you'll let me," Marcus said, "I'd like to help you get that smile back."
She looked from Rosie to Jasper to Carlisle, ignoring Peter and the way he watched her, and heard herself ask, "How?"
He smiled. "I can give you tools that will help you learn how to process everyday situations without being scared. I offer classes in music, art, and even dance, and when you're ready, Bella, I'll teach you how to fight back, but it's going to be hard at first, okay?"
"Hard how?" she asked.
Marcus frowned. "I'm going to bring up a lot of things you've worked really hard to forget, and you're going to get scared and angry, and you're not going to like me for a while, but I will never give up on you."
"You won't?" she whimpered.
"Never," he said, stretching his hand out to her. "You're important, Bella. Not just to your family, either. You're important to me. Will you let me help you?"
She bit the inside of her lip. "You promise not to hurt me?"
"I promise," he said, and though she wasn't sure why, she found herself reaching out and placing her hand in his, and whispering, "Okay."
She yanked her hand out of his before she scrambled to her feet, hurrying into the bedroom. Once again, she found herself crawling into the closet, pulling her knees to her chest. Only this time, she had grabbed the phone Rosie had gotten her. As tears streamed down her face, she once again called Edward, and when he answered with a breathy, "Hello," all she could do was cry.
Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews. Not gonna lie. I don't love this chapter. I've worked on it a lot this week, but I found the words hard to come out. Do me a favor and leave me a few words and let me know what you think.
