Warning: Bella gets rather angsty (and angry) in this chapter, though I did try to keep it to a reasonable level of anger for the circumstances. When someone just finds out they were adopted after 17 years, and even then their parents don't come clean willingly, I would expect them to be pretty upset – I would be, anyway – but hopefully her reaction won't come off as too extreme.

Much to the Cullens' consternation, Bella showed remarkably little interest in figuring out what species she might belong to when she woke up again, though that was probably due in no small part to the steady stream of sedatives that was now being pumped into her through her IV, which dulled her interest in pretty much everything. Those thoughts that did manage to push their way through her drug-induced malaise were almost exclusively fixated on the fact that she was adopted – specifically the part where the people she had grown up thinking of as her parents, who she had loved and trusted implicitly all her life, had failed to mention it to her – causing Carlisle to theorize that she'd simply had too much dumped on her all at once, and was attempting to cope with it by focusing on one earth-shattering revelation at a time.

The problem was that she didn't seem to be coping very well; while there hadn't been any more violent outbursts, the sedatives weren't able to extinguish her fury completely. They merely prevented her from fully expressing it, so that rather than burning itself out, it simmered down into sullen resentment. Most of it was directed at Renée, though she was also frustrated with the medical staff for keeping her drugged, forcing her to spend most of her time asleep and hampering her ability to process what she'd learned when she was awake. At first Edward was afraid of becoming the next target of her ire, but he was the only person she didn't seem displeased with.

"Why would I be mad at you?" she asked when he tentatively broached the subject, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "At least you had the guts to tell me the truth even though you knew I wouldn't like it…unlike some people." The corners of her mouth turned down, and a dim spark of anger flickered in her eyes.

Edward frowned back; although he understood her feelings of betrayal, he also felt increasingly sorry for Renée, whose thoughts made it clear that she had never meant to hurt Bella by withholding the truth from her. She had always intended to tell her eventually, had even made plans to do so at various times only for it to slip her mind when some distraction or other arose; evidently Bella had not exaggerated her mother's scatterbrained tendencies.

At other times, she had entertained the notion that maybe Bella never needed to know at all – after all, she looked enough like her adoptive parents that no one had ever questioned their relationship, and as the years passed with no contact from any biological relations, the possibility of an outside party showing up to expose the truth seemed unlikely. As far as she and Charlie were concerned, Bella was their daughter, and surely that was all that mattered?

Then Bella moved to Forks, and even though she felt intensely guilty for it, Renée had secretly hoped Charlie might tell her, as she felt that his steadying, down-to-earth presence might help Bella absorb the shock better than Renée herself could. Whatever her flaws, the woman at least possessed enough self-awareness to know she wasn't the best at handling serious matters.

Although she undoubtedly could have done better, her failings were a far cry from deliberate negligence or malice, and as grateful as Edward was to have been spared Bella's wrath so far, he was about to risk ending his streak of good fortune by suggesting that she give the woman a break…

Before he could say anything, however, she finished her meal (which consisted of green Jell-O, mushy creamed corn, and some unidentifiable substance that was supposed to be meatloaf yet bore almost no resemblance to any meat Edward had ever seen; on top of everything else, he suspected that the atrocious hospital fare wasn't doing much to improve Bella's mood) and a nurse came in to change out her IV bag. Within minutes, she was fast asleep again.

###

Things went on in much the same vein for the next five days, until Bella's doctor decided it was safe to discharge her. The first manifestation of her supernatural heritage had been accompanied by a surge of energy that appeared to have kickstarted the healing process, and while it would take longer for the bruises to fade and her broken bones to mend, her concussion and any other internal trauma she might have sustained had improved enough that she no longer needed round the clock care. The doctor seemed rather baffled by her rapid recovery, though Edward got the distinct impression that he wasn't sorry to see the last of her.

She had requested that the Cullens drive her to the airport, where she would of course fly back to Washington with them – given how strained things had been between them since the big revelation and the fact that her boyfriend seemed to be the only person Bella was still on good terms with, Renée had decided not to suggest that Bella leave him behind to join her and Phil in Jacksonville after all – but, as he pushed her out of the hospital in the obligatory wheelchair, Edward stopped in the front lobby to let Renée say goodbye.

She flashed him a grateful smile as he stepped back to give her a moment alone with Bella, then crouched down slightly in order to get closer to Bella's eye-level. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," she said somewhat tremulously. "Take care of yourself…and please try to understand that your dad and I never meant to hurt you. We both love you so much, and I'm so, so sorry for not handling this better…"

Her voice trailed off, hands fluttering nervously as Bella blinked up at her, taking what seemed like an inordinately long time to formulate her response. Despite everything she had learned, in her heart she still saw Renée as her mother, but every time she caught herself thinking of her that way, an ugly little voice piped up in the back of her mind, reminding her that it was a lie, and the truth hit her like a knife to the heart all over again. She didn't know how long it would take her to silence that voice, if she would ever be able to…

In the meantime, however, she wasn't sure when she would see Renée again, so she wanted to leave things with her on a civil, if not quite friendly, note. Besides, although her IV had been removed over an hour ago in preparation for her release, she was still feeling the aftereffects of a week under sedation and couldn't muster the energy to get mad.

"I'll try," she said slowly, "but I think it might take a while. I just need some time."

"Of course," Renée said at once, relieved not to have been rebuffed more harshly. "Take all the time you need."

She bent down and wrapped her arms around Bella, who stiffened at her touch but didn't push her away.

###

Bella was mostly silent for the duration of their flight, though Edward could tell from the pensive cast of her features and the faraway look in her eyes that there was a lot going on inside her head. Since she wasn't inclined to share, he couldn't be certain what it might be, but he could hear Jasper's thoughts loud and clear from his seat across the aisle, and his brother silently informed him that her emotions were a jumbled mess, which was only growing more tumultuous as the last vestiges of the drugs left her system.

She hasn't even begun to let them out yet, he cautioned, meeting Edward's eyes with a look of concern. After that first outburst, it's like she built a wall in her mind to hold back everything she's feeling – no doubt the drugs helped with that – but when the dam breaks… Just be careful, okay?

Edward frowned; apart from the greater-than-average strength and reflexes that were common to most fae, Bella had yet to demonstrate her powers (which was somewhat frustrating, since knowledge of her supernatural skillset would have been very helpful in narrowing down her species), and if they turned out to be dangerous…

He's right, Alice chimed in. I can't see when she'll hit her breaking point or what will happen when she does, because Bella herself doesn't know, but I have a feeling the way she manhandled that doctor and nurse was just a preview.

Edward glanced over at his girlfriend; she hardly looked threatening at the moment, huddled against the tiny window as she stared off into space, and even if she did belong to one of the more formidable breeds, he couldn't believe she would ever be a danger to him. Still, he understood that his siblings were just trying to look out for him, so he turned back to them and answered their silent warnings with a reassuring nod.

###

The meltdown Jasper had predicted didn't happen on the plane, or during the drive from Seattle to Forks, though Edward did notice that Bella seemed to grow increasingly agitated with every mile they covered, biting her nails and fidgeting more. Still the wall of silence between them showed no sign of cracking, and he sensed that any attempt to start a conversation would be unwelcome, so as much as he wanted to ask what was wrong, he held his tongue.

For her part, it wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him; she just couldn't get any words past the coil of anxiety that seemed to have formed an invisible noose around her neck, choking her. She wasn't even sure why she was so nervous about going home – it wasn't like Charlie could possibly have more secrets that would knock her world off its axis again, and by now she'd had several days to begin coming to terms with what she'd learned – except that the sedatives had given her time in the hospital a certain surreal quality, almost like another world in which time flowed past in a dizzying rush, one day blending indistinguishably into the next, and all the sharp edges were smoothed away…

Now she was back in the real world, back in familiar surroundings where she would be expected to carry on with a life she now knew was a lie, and she could no longer escape that harsh reality by slipping into a drug-induced sleep when things got too uncomfortable. Several times throughout the drive she was sorely tempted to ask Edward to turn the car around, to take her somewhere else – anywhere on the planet would do – but she knew deep down that this wasn't something she could run from, so she said nothing.

All too soon, they were pulling up to Charlie's house; then Edward was opening the passenger door and lifting her out of the seat, sliding her crutches under her arms before turning his attention to her luggage.

She stared up at the house with a cold feeling of dread slithering through her stomach, wondering if she could just stay outside all night, or if Edward would take her away if she stood there long enough… But he was already heading for the front door with her bags in his arms, and she found herself clumping along behind him like a leaf caught up in a river's current, her body seemingly operating on autopilot…or maybe it was more like someone had hacked into her brain and taken over the controls, shoving her into a distant corner of her own mind.

Her feeling of disconnection only intensified when she got inside, because even though she was intimately familiar with every detail of the place, the color, texture, and position of every single object in each room, it all seemed completely alien to her now. For a moment she wondered if her concussion had caused her to develop some form of agnosia, rendering her unable to recognize things she should have known like the back of her hand…

Then, in the blink of an eye, her perspective shifted radically. It wasn't her surroundings she didn't recognize, it was herself. Of all the things in this house, the only one that didn't belong was her. Once that realization set in, she wanted nothing more than to escape to her room, but Charlie blocked her path.

"Hey, Bella." Renée must have called ahead to warn him that she wasn't happy with either of them, because he didn't try to approach her for a hug; he kept his distance instead, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Glad you're feeling better. How was your flight?"

"Fine," she mumbled. "I'm pretty tired, though. I think I'll just go upstairs and lie down."

Charlie's face fell. "Well, if you need to rest, sure. I mean, I was hoping you might have a minute to talk…"

Without warning, her temper flared. "Oh, you want to talk? Now you want to talk? I thought discussing important, life-altering topics was something to be avoided at all costs."

"I guess I deserved that," Charlie muttered even as he flinched at her acerbic tone. "But listen, Renée and I always intended to tell you one day. It just never seemed like the right time-"

"The right time?" Bella echoed incredulously. "You've had more than seventeen years to find the 'right time'! All you had to do was say 'hey, Bella, there's something we need to tell you', but you never did! Seventeen years," she repeated with a slight shake of her head, "and every day of every one of those years, you made a choice not to say anything, to keep hiding the truth from me. When were you finally going to get around to it – the day before I left for college?!"

Charlie's mouth opened, and for a brief moment it looked like he wanted to argue, to defend his actions – or rather, inaction – but there was nothing he could say; she had made a perfectly valid point, after all. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and at last he simply said, "I'm sorry."

Bella looked away; even though she knew she had every right to be mad, it was still hard to see him so downcast, and to know she was responsible. The fact that their last conversation, when she had needed to make him let her go so she could lead James away from Forks, had also involved her hurting him made it even harder.

"Yeah," she muttered, "me too." Then she struck out with her crutches once more, desperate to reach the sanctuary of her room, and this time he made no attempt to stop her.

###

Making it upstairs turned out to be much easier than she'd feared thanks to Edward, who had taken her luggage up while she talked to Charlie and still made it back in time to help her. She shrugged him off when they got to the top of the stairs, determined to master moving around on crutches by herself, and succeeded in maneuvering down the short hallway without falling…only to stop short outside her bedroom door, her heart beating much faster than it should have after such a minor exertion.

"Bella?" Edward asked worriedly, hovering close behind her in case she needed help. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she answered almost curtly, suspecting that her racing heartbeat had nothing to do with physical strain. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Immediately, the same feeling of alienation she had experienced downstairs washed over her again, only worse this time, because this was her room, her own personal space. If she didn't feel like she belonged here, maybe she would never feel like she belonged anywhere ever again.

Blinking back the tears that were stinging her eyes, she hobbled over to her bed and started folding the clothes she had strewn over it while packing for her frantic flight to Phoenix.

Edward stayed right on her heels, his concern growing by the second. Even without Jasper's gift for reading others' moods, he sensed that the emotional wall she had erected to hold in her inner turmoil was finally buckling. "You don't have to do that right now, you know."

"Yes, I do," she replied in a strained, slightly shrill voice. "I left this place in a shambles when I left, and now I need to clean it up. I have to put everything back where it belongs, and it's just… It's just such a huge mess!"

Her voice rose as she went on, the emotional storm brewing inside her compounded by the frustration of trying to fold her clothes with the rubber pads of her crutches digging into her armpits, their rigid length making it hard to bend over the bed, until she couldn't take it anymore and abandoned her efforts at neat, precise creases in favor of wadding everything up in a big ball, which she flung down on the floor. Leaning heavily on her right crutch, she used her good foot to kick the ball of clothing for good measure, then snatched up the bag of toiletries Edward had put on her bed and hurled that to the floor as well.

"Don't do that," he said at once, nudging it out of reach of her feet and crutches with the toe of his shoe as he stepped in front of her. "You'll tear up your things."

Those simple words shattered the last remnants of her restraint. "They're not mine!" she shouted, the words practically ripping their way out of her throat. "Don't you get it? None of this stuff is mine! It belongs to this made-up person – Isabella Marie Swan, perfectly normal daughter of a perfectly normal small-town police chief and kindergarten teacher – but that person doesn't exist! This-" She gestured wildly around the room, which was full of the trappings of the dull, ordinary life she no longer had "-is all fake… I'm a fake. Not even my name is mine; I'm not a Swan, and I supposedly got my middle name from my maternal grandmother, but whoever my grandmothers are or were, I bet neither of them was named Marie. I don't… I don't know who I am anymore."

Her voice dwindled to a pathetic whisper as her rant came to an end and the tears she'd been fighting to contain since she first crossed the threshold of the place she used to call home finally poured out. The next thing she knew, they were sitting on the bed, her broken leg stretched out on the quilt while the rest of her was curled up in Edward's lap, her left side pressed against his chest.

"Don't cry, love, it'll be okay," he murmured soothingly into her hair. "I know exactly who you are; you're my Bella. You'll always be my Bella. At least we know that part's true, don't we? Renée said that the person who gave you to her and Charlie told them your name was Isabella."

"Great," she sniffled, clutching his arm where it wrapped tightly around her, "I have one real name. Too bad you can't apply for college or a job or probably even a library card with just a first name. Maybe I should make up a new last name for myself… How about Nemo? That'd be fitting, since it's Latin for no one."

"You are not 'no one'," Edward said reprovingly. "Besides, there's an unfortunate dearth of people who know Latin nowadays, so it's more likely that you'd end up being associated with a cartoon fish."

That got a weak, watery laugh out of her. "You're probably right. I just hate feeling like this…like nothing makes sense anymore. I always thought I knew myself pretty well, that I understood the world and where I fit into it, but now I don't understand anything."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'd like to say I understand how you feel, but I'm afraid I don't, not fully. In the first year after I was changed, there were moments when it was difficult for me to acclimate to my new identity as Edward Cullen…to accept Carlisle as my new father…though my situation was still very different from yours. My human parents were gone, and the transformation from human to vampire altered my mind and body so completely that there was no question that my old life was over. I can't begin to imagine how much harder it is for you, being forced to carry on as though nothing's changed. I wish I could help."

"You are helping," Bella said at once. Lifting her head from where it was tucked under his chin, she craned her neck sideways so she could peer into his face. "I'd be losing my mind right now if it wasn't for you. You're the only part of my crazy, upside-down life that I can still make sense of."

She leaned in closer, stretching upward to bring her lips to his, and he inclined his head to meet her halfway; it had been far too long since he'd kissed her, and while she had spent most of that time in a sulky, drug-induced haze, he had missed the incredible sensation of her kiss every moment. Now that he finally had her back in his arms, fully alert and with no adoptive parents or hospital staff butting in, it was almost irresistibly tempting to indulge himself just a little, to let the kiss go on longer than he normally did…

All too soon, however, she slipped into her usual pattern of getting carried away, crushing her warm body against him in a way that made it dangerously hard to hold on to his self-restraint and trying to deepen their kiss, which would bring his razor-sharp, venom-coated teeth much too close to her skin. Remembering what had happened the last time a vampire bit her, he summoned every last iota of his resolve and reluctantly pushed her away, even though it was almost physically painful to do so.

"Hey," she complained once he'd managed to wrench their lips apart, "I was not done kissing you yet."

"Trust me, it's no easier for me to stop than it is for you," he said ruefully, earning a disbelieving scoff in response, "but we have to, especially since you're already hurt. I suppose I'll have to be even more careful with you until you've healed."

For the smallest fraction of an instant, he thought he saw a flash of blue in her eyes, but it was gone too fast for him to be sure. "I guess you're right," she grumbled, settling back into her previous position with her head resting on his shoulder. "Have I mentioned how annoying it is when you're all responsible and safety conscious?"

"Well, one of us has to be."

"Mmm. Will you at least hold me a while longer?"

"As long as you want."

That seemed to satisfy her; she shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable, and they sat for some time in companionable silence until jet lag and the stress of her painful homecoming caught up with her, making it impossible to keep her eyes open.

###

When he was certain she was asleep, Edward carefully laid her out on her bed and covered her with a blanket; she frowned and mumbled discontentedly when he broke contact with her but didn't wake. Then he quickly picked up her scattered belongings and returned them to their proper places before heading downstairs, taking care to make some noise so Charlie would know he was leaving.

Bella's surrogate father appeared just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, worry written all over his face. "How is she?"

"She's sleeping. I guess the trip tired her out."

Charlie nodded, then hesitantly asked, "She still mad?"

"I think she's more confused than anything…and she feels hurt and betrayed, of course. She has every right to." Edward tried not to sound too accusing or glare too heatedly at the man – in Charlie's mind, he was the adult and Edward was a teenager, so he had to maintain the appearance of respecting his elders – but it was hard when he thought of how much pain Bella could have been spared if Charlie had simply come clean sooner.

He was thinking the same thing, and took the subtle rebuke without protest. "I know we should've told her; I kept telling Renée we'd have to rip the Band-Aid off sooner or later, but we just… We knew she'd have questions we couldn't answer, and we didn't want her to think we loved her any less because we adopted her after losing a child. The way it happened was horrible, but we've always been grateful that Bella came into our lives. We wouldn't trade her for anything," he insisted with an almost pleading note in his voice.

Edward nodded slowly. "She knows that. I think she just needs time to come to terms with all this, but she loves you very much." He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What do you remember about the person who gave Bella to you?"

"It was a woman… At least I'm pretty sure it was a woman," Charlie answered vaguely, "although I can't quite remember her face. I guess she must've been pretty average-looking, you know? I'm not sure if she ever showed us any ID either; actually, I don't think she ever even told us her name, just Bella's. I probably should've asked about that…"

"That's all right," Edward hastened to assure him. "It was a long time ago." The glazed look that had come into Charlie's eyes when he tried to recall the specifics of what should have been a very memorable meeting was enough to confirm the Cullens' suspicions that his and Renée's memories had been modified. In situations like that, it was best to divert the human's attention, keep them from delving too deep into the inconsistencies within their own minds. "If you'll excuse me, I should be going – it's after eight o'clock. Carlisle and Esme will expect me to be home soon."

"Yeah, you don't want to miss curfew." Charlie's befuddled expression instantly cleared up with the return to more mundane topics, yet he made no move to step aside and let Edward pass. "Listen, Edward, I, uh… I may have given the impression that I wasn't thrilled with you dating my daughter…"

"The fact that you were cleaning your shotgun when Bella introduced us didn't exactly fill me with optimism," Edward wryly acknowledged.

"Yeah, well… When she ran off because she was afraid she might end up stuck here if she started to like you too much, I'd made up my mind never to let you in my house again…but then Renée told me how you were there for her in the hospital, how much you've helped her…and it made me think maybe I judged you too harshly."

Edward blinked in surprise. Not having known he was in danger of being banished from the Swan household in absentia, he was very glad Charlie had reconsidered before issuing such an edict. Never in his wildest dreams, though, would he have imagined that Bella abruptly running away from home, only to return with multiple injuries, might end up improving his relationship with her father.

"I appreciate that…and I want you to know that as long as Bella wants me around, I'll always be there for her."

Charlie accepted this declaration with a decisive nod, then held out his hand. "I'll let you get home now, but come back any time."

###

Edward was fairly certain that Charlie's invitation did not extend to spending the night in Bella's bedroom, yet that was precisely what he intended to do after dropping his car off at home. When Alice called out to him telepathically as he drove up the long, winding driveway, he suspected his plans were about to change.

Good, you're back. Get your butt in here – we need to talk.

Sighing in frustration at the fact that his gift only allowed him to receive such messages – if only his telepathy worked both ways, there were a couple of choice retorts he would very much like to make – he drove the remaining distance to the house, parked his Volvo in the expansive garage, and went inside to find his whole family waiting.

"There he is, right when I said he would be," Alice chirped just as he entered the living room.

"Glad to see you're alive, bro," Emmett greeted him. "Does that mean the big meltdown hasn't hit yet?"

"It has," Edward replied shortly. "Bella had some rather heated words with Charlie and vented her feelings on some clothing and other sundry objects that had the misfortune to be in her path, followed by an in-depth discussion of said feelings. I believe she's begun to truly process her emotions, but she did so without any supernatural antics."

Briefly, his mind flashed back to the glint he thought he'd seen in her eyes when he ended their kiss, but he decided not to mention it. Bella had always reacted strongly when he kissed her and chafed at the restrictions he placed on their physical relationship for her own safety, so there was nothing unusual about her behavior tonight.

"Maybe she's an akvan," Rosalie suggested. "I've heard they mature more slowly than other types of fae."

"They're also kinda dumb," Emmett countered, "and Bella gets good grades."

"Akvans aren't unintelligent," Esme said with a slight frown. "They merely take a little longer to reach their full potential."

"Yeah, like a couple hundred years longer."

"We know Bella has powers, though," Alice pointed out. "She's just being awfully shy about showing them."

"Well, there might be another way we can get to the bottom of this. That's what we've been waiting to tell you," Jasper said, turning to Edward. "J called me not long after we got home – he says he has information that might be of interest. I'm meeting him tomorrow morning. Want to come along?"

Edward immediately said yes, though he regretted that accompanying Jasper to Seattle meant he wouldn't be able to be there when Bella woke up. Still, anything they could learn would help her, and she seemed to be in a better place emotionally after their conversation, so he hoped she would be all right on her own for one morning.

###

Upon awakening, Bella's first thought was that it felt like she had been run over by a train. She felt sore all over, plus a dull throbbing in her temples, and the realization that Edward was gone did nothing to make her feel better, although it did occur to her that if she was alone – as the lack of noise from downstairs and general air of stillness seemed to indicate – there was nothing to stop her from going back to sleep.

As she lay there, however, her aches and pains were gradually overshadowed by a new discomfort, a hollow feeling that seemed to be concentrated in her midsection, which she instinctively knew wouldn't be alleviated by more sleep.

I need to feed. Then she shook her head, wondering where that strangely worded thought had come from. No, eat, she corrected herself, I need to eat…which means I have to get up.

With a moan of protest, she forced her body into a sitting position, glancing at her alarm clock – which she hadn't set last night – as she did so. It's after eleven? Geez, no wonder everyone's gone.

She swung her good leg out of bed and balanced carefully on it while retrieving her crutches from where Edward had left them propped against her nightstand, then slid them into place under her arms and made the slow, awkward trek to the bathroom.

Getting down the stairs was a harrowing ordeal, but at last she reached the kitchen and successfully assembled the ingredients for a sandwich: bread, turkey slices, muenster cheese, mayonnaise, and pickles. It wasn't until she started spreading mayonnaise on the second slice of bread that her remarkable clumsiness reared its head, causing her to knock the mayo jar's lid off the countertop with her elbow.

"Damn it." She thought she could reach it if she set aside the crutch on the side of her good leg and bent down very carefully while holding on to the counter with her other hand…but as she commenced her efforts to execute this acrobatic feat, her broken leg bumped lightly against a cabinet door.

A shock of stunning, nerve-searing pain lanced through her leg, causing her other knee to buckle. In an ironic bit of good luck, her brain's pain receptors were already so occupied with the sensations coming from her broken leg that she barely felt her head striking the edge of the counter as she fell, or the impact when she crashed to the floor.

Ouch… Poor Bella's having a rough day.

Edward's scenes with Charlie and the rest of his family weren't originally part of the plan, but I thought they might add a little something to the story, so here they are. Thanks for reading, hope you're still enjoying it, and I'll see you sometime near the end of April with chapter 4.