Lilah's stomach was in her throat as she listened to the phone ring. She hadn't had any contact with anyone from home in the near two months she'd been in Forks. She had a secret conversation with Constance to get her advice on where to go if she did decide to go, and then, the next night, she disappeared without telling Phoebe or Morgan or Zoe.

She had, undoubtedly, blindsided them, and terrified them. She could only hope that Constance pieced it together enough to tell them she'd left for Forks, and done so for their own good, because her father had decided to start hunting her down and make good on his threat to kill her.

She'd gotten a letter from one of her sisters, Ruth, warning her that her father would be after her sometime near the start of August. He had been rapidly losing popularity in the church. He had wasted almost all of the church funds on an expansion project, only to find out that the construction company was a sham, leaving them broke and without any additions to the building. The congregation blamed him, and instead of admitting anything, he became combative, angry with the people whose money he wasted. They fought back, calling him a weak, ineffective leader. They'd even reminded him of his greatest failure: allowing his own witch daughter to leave, alive.

At first, she didn't know if she wanted to believe it. She didn't know if she could trust her own sister, as sad as that sounded. So she didn't pay them much mind until she saw one of her uncles show up in Boston when she and Morgan took Zoe on a day trip to the aquarium.

That was when she went to Constance. Constance, the great 'mother of witches,' as she was called. She had been a human, a witch, over three hundred years ago. A daughter of a pastor, not unlike Lilah. No matter how hard she tried to hide her differences, the eagle-eyed citizens of Salem noticed, and they hanged her for her crime of being born a witch.

But she didn't die. She was turned by an older vampire as a kind of experiment—witches' blood had a natural repulsive quality to vampires, so they never fed off of them, and didn't turn them either. She was reborn as a vampire, losing all of her magic, except her great gift she had as a human, the ability to conjure and control fire.

Since then, Constance had spent her immortal life helping and protecting other witches, so none of them had to endure what she had endured. She was especially close with Phoebe, and Lilah too, once Phoebe brought her home. Lilah had always felt a special closeness with Constance. She felt she understood her past in a stiflingly religious home better than anyone else had, or could, in her adopted family.

Finally, a familiar, liquid-honey voice picked up the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Constance," Lilah said. She'd held in her breath, and suddenly released it all as she said her name.

"My little bee! My god, please tell me you're safe somewhere! Are you in Washington, like we discussed? Are you alright? Your father—"

"I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine," Lilah said. "I'm in Forks, I've been doing okay taking care of myself, and no, there hasn't been a sign of my father."

Lilah listened as Constance let out a long exhale of her own, letting out a good deal of the worry she'd had pent up.

"You scared your mother and sisters to death," she said. "I'm sure you know that, but I have to tell you…I told them you did it because you love them, and we all understand that, but we all would've appreciated you warning us before you left, and allowed us to help you—you do have enough money, don't you? You have somewhere decent to stay and you're eating well?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I promise," Lilah said. "Worst that has happened was that I cut my hand with a knife in the kitchen."

Constance gave her a chance to amend that statement. She did not.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to know that your family is safe as well," said Constance. "Though I wouldn't say they're good. They're still worried sick about you…in fact, Phoebe almost ripped my head off when I admitted I was the one who suggested you leave. But to be fair, I didn't think you'd do it, not how you did it, anyway."

"Please tell them I'm sorry and I love them."

Lilah's voice was desperate, almost breaking. All she had was her family. She missed them awfully. She had only done what she'd done because she loved them and because she'd never be able to live with herself if she knew she caused any of them to be hurt, or worse.

"They know," Constance said, her voice more gentle now. "Have you had any contact with the Cullens at all?"

"Yes," Lilah said. "I've met three of them. I haven't told them who I am or who you are, or why I'm here."

"Lilah!"

"I don't want anyone else involved in this," she said. "You said that my father wouldn't think to look for me in Washington, and even if he did, he'd never step foot in Carlisle's territory here. Shouldn't me being in his territory be enough?"

"Yes, well, it wouldn't hurt to have them in the loop as well. Carlisle and his family wouldn't mind helping you…he and I are old friends, I can guarantee you that there's no reason to be shy with him. If you've met any of his family, I'm sure they already know you're a witch and they're already suspicious. I would advise you to tell them, and avoid any confusion. I'll even call them myself and tell them if you're too—"

"I don't want more people—vampires, whatever—involved," Lilah said. "I don't want to bother anyone."

Lilah could just about feel Constance shaking her head over the phone.

"Again, asking for help is not bothering people. Asking for help is part of the human—or vampire—experience. It's something we all need to do from time to time. So please, do your best to shake off some of your father's brainwashing and stop feeling guilty about this."

Lilah set her jaw. So hard it started to ache.

"You can call them and tell them," she finally said. "You're better at explaining things than I am…but please, Constance, I don't want them to feel they have to do anything. I don't want to put anyone else out, I don't want anyone else to have more trouble on their plates because of me. So call them, tell them, but please keep them out of it. Please."

There was a long, hard pause in their conversation. There wasn't even the familiar, human sound of breathing on the other end of the line. It was strange—sometimes it was impossible to ignore Constance's vampirism, sometimes she seemed so alive, so human, so warm and kind, that it was impossible to remember that she was a vampire.

Finally, Constance broke the straining silence with two syllables. "Alright."

A wave of relief washed over Lilah. She could handle that. Constance was right, it was only fair to inform the Cullens that something was going on so close to their home. It wasn't fair to ask them to go out of their way for one wayward witch. It was a good compromise, she felt.

"And I'm going to inform your family of your whereabouts," Constance continued. "That way you can talk to them, and everyone can calm down a bit. Is that fair?"

It was. "Yes."

"Okay," Constance said. "Be safe, now."

"Yes, Constance. Thank you."

"No need to thank me or anyone else in your family. We all love you, Lilah. This is what we do when we love one another."

The line clicked dead. Lilah hanged the phone back up and slumped down into her nearest chair. She was relieved. She was overwhelmed. It was a strange combination of sensations.

She didn't have much time to mull it over. Or maybe she had, and she was just horrible at estimating the time. Still, the phone rang again, and Lilah couldn't help but to smile, knowing that it was one of her family members.

"Hello?"

"Lilah!" It was Zoe who had taken the liberty to call her, and her little voice was powerful with warmth and excitement. "Lilah, are you there?"

"Yeah, Zoe, I'm here," Lilah said.

She cradled the phone against her cheek, remembering how she'd cradled Zoe when Phoebe first brought her home, when she was about the size of a loaf of bread, warm and sweet and chubby.

Zoe squealed with joy at the sound of her big sister's voice.

"I miss you so much!" she said it with such youthful honesty that Lilah felt as though she'd been punched in the throat. She tried to swallow the lump, but she couldn't, nor could she suppress her tears. "Everyone misses you…me, Morgan, Mom…Constance said you're in Washington? Are you closer to Oregon, Canada, or Idaho?"

Lilah laughed. Zoe was the smartest kid she'd ever met. She loved school and she loved learning, even when she wasn't at school. She recalled that, shortly before she'd left, she'd taken it upon herself to study maps of North America. Clearly, all of that knowledge had already been absorbed into her brilliant little brain.

"Canada," she answered. "The Pacific Ocean, too."

There was a slight kerfuffle on the other end, and then instead of Zoe, it was Morgan. And though there was just as much love in Morgan's voice, it came out in a completely different way.

"Lilah, what the hell were you thinking? Running away in the middle of the night to Washington, without telling anyone? I get you thought you were doing the right thing, but shit! Could you at least give us a heads up? Did you not think we could help you? I can't believe—"

"I love you, Morgan," Lilah said. It was true, and it caught Morgan off guard. She was quiet for a moment, and then laughed, the same kind of laugh that had brought the two girls together as sisters so many times before.

"Love you too," Morgan said. Her voice came faster. She did not bask in the lovey-dovey as Lilah did. To her, it was still embarrassing, because she'd never lived without it as Lilah had. "But my points still stand. You scared us."

"And I'm sorry I did," Lilah said. "But I hope you can understand why."

"…I do," Morgan said. "Mom's coming, here, hang on…"

There was a click. Morgan had put the phone on speaker so everyone in the Bishop home could hear Lilah.

"Delilah Elizabeth! If I wasn't so relieved to know you're alright, I'd hand your ass to you over the phone," came Phoebe's, aka Mom's, voice. Lilah didn't even care that she'd been called her full name. It was warranted this time. "I know you're an adult, but by god, you've still got to tell us these things. We're family. And we help each other out, even when things get hard."

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry."

"We understand why you did what you did, you just scared us," Phoebe said. "With your sperm donor looking for you, we do think it's good for you to lay low where you are until we have a better idea of what he's up to and what we need to do about it."

Lilah smirked. Phoebe had never referred to him father as her father. 'Sperm donor,' was the most gracious nickname she used for him.

Her rationale was that he'd never been her father. He hadn't been there when she was born. He was too busy working at a pastor's conference in Tennessee to be there for the birth of his first child. When he found out his first child was a girl, the weaker, unwanted sex, he named her Delilah. Not because he thought it was a beautiful name. Because he knew that it meant "weak, languishing." That was why Lilah never went by Delilah. Taking off the 'de,' to her, and in some small way, felt as though it removed the meaning.

The name her father had chosen for her had summed up how he felt about having a girl, especially as his first born. And that feeling was all Phoebe needed to know to judge him to be a complete piece of shit. That was putting it politely.

"We'll work on sending you some money, too," Phoebe said. She quickly amended her statement, though, and said, "Unless you've already got that sorted out…which, knowing you, you have."

Lilah didn't say anything. She didn't need to.

She talked to her family until it was time for them to put Zoe to bed—she'd recently started first grade and had to be ready for school in the next morning. She bid them all goodnight, told them she loved them until there wasn't another breath left in her lungs, and hanged up the phone for the final time that evening, tears stinging her eyes.