12
A cool breeze whips between the trees. I pull my sweater tighter around me, tucking my hands under my arms. Like most days in Forks, it's overcast. Damp.
So much like the day I woke here, alone and confused. Nearly bled dry.
I watch Jasper pick up a handful of soil and study it, allowing the loose bits to fall between his fingers. He did something similar when we visited the alley behind the club earlier today, inspecting dark corners and chipped, stained brick as if they alone held the secrets to this mystery.
Slowly, he stands, his focus far off in the distance.
His voice, one I've come to find comfort in during our sessions, breaks the silence.
"You told me at your first session you didn't want to sound crazy, and you were reluctant to voice your suspicions." He turns to face me, and his expression—his serious, pointed gaze—sends a chill up my spine. "You're not crazy, Bella. I'm certain now that your husband was attacked by a vampire."
What started months ago as confused delusions has only grown since I woke up in these woods. And now, standing across from a man who has validated all the terrible thoughts that have plagued me for months, a sense of relief fills me.
"You're sure?" I croak.
He nods once. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt."
"How … how can you be sure?"
He stares down at the clump of moist earth in his palm before watching as it unceremoniously falls from his hand onto the forest floor. Brushing his hands together he looks back to me. "Do you trust me?"
My heart races, and I can feel the blood rushing in my ears as I reply with a shaky, "Yes."
He narrows his eyes, ever so slightly, almost as if he doesn't believe me. "And you trust Carlisle?"
His question heightens my inexplicable anxiety, and I'm not sure why. I swallow past the tightening of my throat. "I do," I rasp. "You've all been very kind."
"So, if I were to tell you I thought it was best to finish this conversation in his presence, along with the rest of the family, would you trust me when I say it's the best option?"
I don't understand why. In fact, I don't understand much of what's happening, but I find myself nodding. "I trust you."
The Cullen family as a whole—Carlisle and Esme, Jasper and his wife, the Cullens' daughter, Alice—is intimidating. The women sit on the sofa, and their husbands stand behind or beside them. Together, with their model looks and disturbingly similar golden eyes, they sit silently, watching me, as if I'm going to bolt at the slightest movement.
I clear my throat and direct my question to Jasper. "Will you tell me now?"
The men share a look. Jasper gives Carlisle an almost indiscernible nod, and the doctor takes a breath.
"Jasper knows Edward was attacked by a vampire because … because we're vampires."