Double or Despair

by Glitterb1234

Sequel to Double or Nothing. The Swan twins and Cullen siblings continue trying to maintain the delicate balance of life lived between the human and vampire worlds... even as disaster strikes.

12. Chapter 10: The Meadow

A big one today, and rather a turning point in the story in my opinion, so I won't waste too much time rabbiting on. Just to say that sadly the next chapter is still in the works, so I cannot guarantee an upload next week. Still, I hope you enjoy this one and it tides you over until the next part.

Glitterb x

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Chapter 10: The Meadow

My wait turned out to be very long.

I gave it a few days, not wanting to be too pushy, but no one called and by mid-week I was getting impatient. When I gave in to the urge and made my own phone call, Bonnie picked up again. She wasn't quite as rude as last time, but she did firmly tell me that Jules still wasn't well and couldn't get out of bed even to come to the phone. I got a little impolite myself, all but demanding to know if she had taken her to the doctor; Bonnie calmly told me she had, but there was something in her tone that made me not believe her.

Every time I called after that – which was often, and at random times of day, whenever I could get on my phone without getting in trouble – no one answered at all.

By the weekend, I was frantic enough to drive down to La Push after work, ignoring Jules' instruction to wait for her to call. Beau, who I had at least remembered to pick up from the library first, looked faintly disapproving but didn't argue with me, and he was just as concerned as I was to find the house completely empty.

"I thought you said Jules was too sick to get out of bed?" he asked, pulling me into a reassuring half-hug that just about kept me from hyperventilating in sheer panic.

"That's what Bonnie told me," I confirmed. "Oh god, what if she got so bad they had to go to the hospital?"

Beau saw the beginning of an epic spiral and was quick to head it off. "Then at least she's in a place she can get help. Do you want to swing by there and check?"

I nodded weakly, and he gently helped me back into the truck, taking the driver's seat with no complaint from me. He also did all the talking at the hospital, where I was entirely unsurprised to find he was on a first name basis with the nurse behind the desk. He smiled and joked with her while I waited anxiously off to the side, wishing he'd get to the point already and doing my best to trust in his process. But his sweet talking yielded nothing useful; according to her, neither Bonnie nor Jules had been admitted or even seen by a doctor.

Both of us ganged up on Charlie when he got home from work, pestering him until he finally agreed to call Harry Clearwater and see if he had any answers. Though he tried to convince us to at least give him some space while he called, we both settled into seats at the table, no doubt sporting matching obstinate expressions that made our father sigh heavily and roll his eyes as he dialled. To my intense irritation, he then took a frustratingly long time to actually get to the point; the opening small talk seemed to go on forever, no hint of the Blacks even being mentioned. I couldn't begrudge him too much, though, since part of the reason they talked so long was that Harry had recently ended up in the hospital himself. From what I could gather, it hadn't been an emergency, just some tests they were running on his heart, but it was enough to make my dad look very worried indeed. Harry was apparently much more blasé about the whole affair, and within a few minutes of cracking jokes he managed to get Charlie laughing again. Finally, he got around to asking about Jules, and the conversation was quickly much more one-sided – unfortunately that side was Harry's, and Charlie was providing little in the way of information beyond hums of acknowledgement and the occasional 'yeah' or 'sure'. I started impatiently tapping my fingers against the table until Charlie shot me a look and Beau laid a hand over mine to keep me still. Which seemed a bit hypocritical, given how his knee was bouncing like crazy under the table. I glared at him, but he just shook his head, his expression saying louder than words, 'don't push it.'

At last, with a final stern command to his friend to take care of himself, Charlie hung up and turned to us, crossing his arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"So it sounds like there's been some problems with the phones down on the reservation," he explained. "Particularly bad in the houses a little further out of town, like Bonnie's place, so that would explain why you've had trouble getting through to them at home. Jules did get worse, but Bonnie took her to the doctor at La Push. She trusts them better, has done since-" Whether because he saw me stiffen or because Beau shot him a sharp warning look, he cut himself off abruptly. "Well, you know. Seems like she still doesn't want to go to the hospital in town. Anyway, this doc says Jules has mono. She's wiped out from it and doesn't do much besides sleep, and Bonnie's said no visitors, just in case they catch anything."

"No visitors?" Beau and I both burst out in identical tones of disbelief and something verging on outrage.

"Jules is going to hate that once she gets her energy back," I continued.

"Yeah," Beau chimed in. "And how is Bonnie going to cope trying to take care of her on her own?"

"That's not our concern," Charlie said, far too reasonable for my liking and with that stern edge that I really hated because of how much it made me feel like a little kid. "Bonnie's a good mom, not to mention a very proud lady – she won't want you two hanging around making nuisances of yourself or telling her everything she's doing wrong. So I don't want either of you going down there and causing a fuss. Just give it some time, alright? Let poor Jules get her strength back before you start bombarding her with attention."

"We just want to know she's okay," Beau wheedled, while obviously trying to not sound like he was whining.

I, on the other hand, quickly backed off when I saw the look in Charlie's eyes. There was worry there, not for our friend but for his. "Is Harry alright, Dad?"

Beau looked at me like I'd grown a second head, but Charlie mellowed, losing the parental air as his shoulders slumped and his frown deepened. "He seems to think so, but I don't know. His doctor's been warning him about heart trouble for a while, but it's never been serious enough for tests before."

I crossed the kitchen to give him a hug; he seemed startled at first, then wrapped his arms around me and squeezed tightly.

"There now," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "It'll all be alright, Bells."

I could only nod against his chest, not trusting myself to be honest or to lie convincingly about believing him. Instead, I pulled away and retreated to my room, ignoring my brother as he tried to catch my eye.

Giving in to my insatiable curiosity, I fired up my computer and searched for more information on mono. All I knew was that it was supposed to get passed by kissing, and as far as I knew, Jules wasn't doing that with anyone. The site I found listed a whole load of symptoms, and I went through trying to work out which ones Jules had. Fever, for sure, I'd felt for myself how warm she was. But when I'd last seen her, there had been no sore throat, no headache, and she hadn't been complaining of being tired. Had all that come on by the time she got home? Could mono really develop that quickly? She'd insisted she felt fine in the car, and even when she started to feel off, she'd claimed it wasn't illness. According to what I was reading, the body aches and soreness should have been the first signs of infection.

I baulked when I got further down the article and spotted the part about mono lasting up to a month depending on how severe the case was. There was no way Bonnie could expect to keep all visitors away for an entire month – Jules would lose her mind with boredom, for starters. And this article said that so long as you kept your hands clean and didn't go passing saliva or sharing cutlery with someone who was infected, it was actually pretty hard to catch. Apparently, the main thing to avoid was too much physical activity because over-exertion could lead to more long-term chronic fatigue conditions. So as long as Jules stayed in bed, what did it matter if Beau or I came over to keep her company? What exactly was Bonnie so afraid of?

I wondered why I was getting so suspicious. What possible reason could Bonnie have to lie to Harry, of all people? Yet I couldn't escape the fact that I simply didn't believe the story. Too many things weren't adding up.

And with that thought, suddenly the whole situation was beginning to feel hauntingly familiar, which was both ridiculous and dangerous to think about. This wasn't like him, like them. There was nothing supernatural happening here; I was just scared of the inevitable fallout that would come from not getting to spend time with Jules, being away from her soothing presence and, more importantly, completely losing the chance to chase down my hallucinations. I had already been forced to reduce my exposure once, and without Jules' influence, I really wasn't sure I'd survive doing it again.

Needing something to occupy my mind and keep me from having a full-on panic attack, I put in a futile effort to make some progress on my homework, but I was far too distracted. My eyes kept drifting out of the window, my thoughts flying too fast for me to follow. I switched tacks, pulling out my journal, but no words came, and I just ended up doodling dark shadowy shapes and zombie faces. So it was almost a relief when Beau tapped on my half-open door and interrupted my reverie.

"You hungry?" he asked in that too casual way that I knew meant I had either skipped a meal or was about to, and he was stepping in to intervene.

"I guess I could eat," I said with a shrug. I expected him to disappear at once to get whatever snack he'd probably already prepared, but instead he stayed in the doorway, leaning more firmly against the frame.

"You okay?" he asked, the tiniest frown creasing his brow. "I know that phone call didn't really turn out the way you wanted it to."

I couldn't lie to Beau, not about this, and certainly not after all the fuss it had caused last time. "I'm just worried about Jules. The way she sounded on the phone last week, and now all this trouble getting in touch with her, Bonnie not letting anyone visit… She's either really sick or… I know it doesn't make sense, but I can't shake the feeling that she's avoiding me for some reason, and… I don't know. Something just feels off."

He nodded, a worried expression on his face that I knew matched mine. "I know what you mean. I guess we can only hope that she'll come to us for help if it's something really bad."

"Yeah," I sighed. My eyes went back to the black shadow I'd been drawing. I extended the shape, drawing in limbs; it was resolving itself into something animalistic, a bear or maybe a wolf.

"Hey, at least you're taking a break from those damn bikes," Beau joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, alright, I know how you feel about that already, thank you. I'll have you know, I'm getting pretty good. Besides, you know we were already doing other things."

"Thank God." He dramatically wiped his forehead and dodged out of the way when I threw a pen at him. I expected laughter, but there was a thoughtful look on his face as he straightened up, and before I could ask why, he offered a question of his own. "You had any luck finding that meadow yet?"

"No," I sighed, my mood dropping again. "Like I told you, we had this whole plan laid out, doing a grid search from the trailhead where we… I started. But we only got through about half of it before Jules got sick and… nothing."

He nodded slowly, his expression not changing.

"Nothing ever happened," I assured him, guessing that he was getting anxious about potential danger again. "Just lots of boring trees and the occasional trip-root. Besides, Jules knows what she's doing with all the outdoorsy navigational stuff, and we've never come close to getting lost."

"That is good to hear," he allowed. "Still, with all the stuff going on out there… I was talking to Dad earlier, and they've got hikers going missing now."

I frowned. "Missing?"

"Yeah, apparently the rangers found some guy's camp, but there's no sign of him. Bunch of animal tracks around, although they've got no idea if they just came foraging later. Not to mention, no one's caught that bear thing, whatever it is… Just be careful if you go hiking again, Bell. You know better than anyone that the woods aren't always safe."

Abruptly irritated by his attitude but not really wanting to get into another argument, I seethed quietly for a moment before responding from between gritted teeth, turning my back to him. "Well then, I guess you have another reason to be glad Jules is ghosting me. Since I clearly can't be trusted to make smart decisions anymore."

I heard him sigh heavily and the soft creak of the springs in my mattress as he sat down on my bed. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I just worry about you, same as I always have."

I didn't respond, switching to sketching grass and flowers along the bottom of the page I'd been working on. I accidentally drew one of the flower heads so it looked like it was attached to a drooping grass stalk instead of its intended stem, giving it a sad, pensive look. I coloured the petals in black, which just made it stand out more, and put the pen down in frustration.

"Why did you want to find the meadow, anyway?" Beau asked, his voice soft and cautious. "I mean, it would be full of memories, right? Seems like you've been trying to avoid those."

"I have… sort of." I spoke just as quietly as him, turning to look out of the window at the trees softly waving in the breeze at the edge of our lawn. "I want to remember. Sometimes it feels like I have to, like it will be even worse if I forget. But everything is just so painful… I guess… I was hoping that maybe if I were there, it would be different. If it was a place that was only ever happy, I could get some of that back." I sighed heavily, sliding my arm around myself in a way I hoped was subtle enough for him not to notice. "It has to stop hurting sometime, right?"

"I don't know," he admitted, honesty and sympathy ringing in his tone. "I hope so."

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"Maybe Edythe can help us find it."

I stiffened. He knew that name was off limits, that any mention of any of them was liable to knock me sideways. I felt momentarily betrayed, that he would pile on top of my already bad mood by bringing her up right now. I braced myself for the pain, for the same breath-stealing stab to the chest that had brought me to a standstill when Jeremy had said it the other day.

And it did hurt, but not as much as I was expecting. So I was brought up short for entirely different reasons because I was left puzzling as to why. Was it just because it was Beau saying it, and he was supposed to? Was I more prepared for it, having been thinking about them not that long ago? Or had he just caught me so off guard that my brain was having trouble keeping up?

Beau was watching me closely, and I realised it had been a very long time since he'd spoken and I should probably give him some kind of answer. Swallowing hard, I forced out what even I could hear was a concerningly emotionless, "What do you mean?"

My brother's expression was guarded, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. "Edythe. She used to take me to the meadow all the time, so she'd be able to find it no problem. And she's visiting next weekend."

I felt like all the air had suddenly gone out of the room. The tiny part of my brain still capable of rational thought pointed out that, of course, it was perfectly natural for her to come to visit. After all, there would be no reason for her to stop seeing Beau. In the dim, painful memories of last September, I was aware enough to know she hadn't left right away along with all the others. But I hadn't seen her in months and until now, he'd avoided talking about her and had never brought her up himself. Somehow I'd thought she had followed the rest of them after all, and that she was as absent from my life as all the rest.

"She comes to see me every few weeks," Beau went on, still clearly trying to be careful and not set me off – although what reaction I would have to this news, even I wasn't sure. "She usually just sneaks into my room or we meet up somewhere. She didn't want to make herself known in case…" He seemed to search for the right wording, before settling on resigned honesty. "In case it upset you to see her."

I nodded slowly, feeling a familiar numbness creeping over me. When I spoke, my voice was even more flat and lifeless. "That makes sense."

Beau was eyeing me warily, as if waiting for a bomb to go off. "It's not that she doesn't want to see you, Bell. She always asks how you're doing, even when she calls or texts. I know she'd really love to catch up properly, but if you don't want to, that's okay, too. I just thought I'd suggest it. Maybe I can get her to mark the spot on a map or something, then we can go look for it on our own."

I considered that idea. What would be harder – seeing her and potentially being thrown back into more painful memories, or knowing she was here and not seeing her at all? Would she feel rejected if she knew I had the choice to see her and chose not to? Or would she understand that it was just too much?

"Maybe…" I said slowly. "Maybe she could come over more… publicly, and I can see how I feel?"

His smile was small, but it was there, and I couldn't help feeling just a bit pleased with myself. "I think that sounds like a perfect idea. I'll let her know." He stood up and came over to give me an awkward one-armed hug. "Now, let's get you something for lunch. It's a little late, but there's still a fair few hours until dinner. Grilled cheese sound good?"

I gave him a slightly delayed pat on the back as he pulled away. "Yeah, thanks."

A week. That should be enough time to prepare myself for seeing her again. It would also be a reasonable time to wait before I started pestering Bonnie again. Surely the phone lines would be fixed in that time, and Jules might even be starting to recover. Yes, a week I could do.

A week turned out to be very, very long. The truth was, I hadn't really expected 'no visitors' to translate to 'no contact'; every day I checked my phone at the end of school expecting a missed call or a voicemail from Jules, only to be disappointed when there was nothing. My cell phone had never been so well charged, and I kept my bedroom door cracked open so I could hear the house phone more easily. But no one called, at least not for me.

I caved and tried calling three times between Tuesday and Wednesday, but the phone lines were still apparently not working, because no one answered.

I was back to spending most of my time in the house; now that it wasn't my choice, it felt torturously stifling, and I hated being alone. Beau kept me company as much as he could, but it just wasn't the same as Jules, and I found myself pushing him away out of frustration. All the things I had been repressing with adrenaline rushes and hallucinations began to gradually rise up again, and every day I feared seeing the zombie in the mirror once more. Worse still, the dreams got hard again. They had become intermittent over the last few weeks, and I'd had quite a few dreamless nights; even when I had nightmares, I'd been finding it easier to let them go, knowing I had a somewhat enjoyable day ahead. Now, they were every night once again, and though the images themselves still never changed, I was struggling to see the end. I hurried through the forest or wandered the endless sea of ferns, searching for nothing and finding nothing, watched by the odd shimmering form of Sam Uley. He was an unwelcome intruder to an already unpleasant scenario, and I ignored him as best as I could. It made no difference when I was screaming myself awake.

I wasn't sure whether I was making things worse or better with the other exercise I had been forced to begin: preparing myself for our visitor. I couldn't afford to fall apart when she arrived, nor did I want to; for all I had shied away from her back in September, I dearly missed her and didn't want to upset her by having to avoid her, especially when she was coming to try and help me. Of course, that wasn't the only reason for her visit, but she was risking being seen by Charlie and all the awkward, uncomfortable questions that was sure to bring up, just so that I could test how well my resistance to the horrible pain had developed, and she was offering to take me somewhere that I could potentially find my hallucinations again. I had to at least be able to stand hearing her name by the time she came.

That was where I started – with her name. I knew I had photos of her in my journal, but I also knew that they were all paired with pictures of him, the two of them inseparable in my mind and always side by side on the page. This was, of course, part of the problem; to see her, I had to see him. Even on my phone, the irritating organisation of my contacts in alphabetical order meant he came just before her, and so it was impossible to even read her name without having to blur my eyes to get past his. So instead, I took a small piece of paper, just a corner of a notebook page, and wrote her name out for myself. On Saturday evening when I began, my hand was shaking so hard that I barely managed the 'E' before I had to put the pen down. Sunday morning, I forced myself to scrawl the whole name, quickly dashing through each letter, then sliding the paper under the keyboard of my computer and walking away, breathing heavily and battling against the stinging around the edges of the hole in my chest. The ridiculousness of it made me angry, and that anger was disorienting; I'd gone so long feeling no strong emotions, they still sent me reeling. But it also made my stubborn streak come out. I would not be beaten by a simple string of letters – after all, that's all it was. Just letters, only holding meaning and power because I gave it to them.

What's in a name? I thought to myself wryly. Juliet had her moments of wisdom, for all her foolish recklessness.

So that was my next step. I treated the written word as just a series of letters. I spent a chunk of Sunday afternoon reading them over one letter at a time, one by one, both in and out of order, first in my head and then out loud, until I could spell out her name under my breath with only a small twinge of pain.

On Monday, I practiced the letters again a few times before attempting to read it as one word. It hurt, badly at first, and I kept having to put it away again. But every so often while I worked on my homework, I pulled out the paper and read it again, and each time the pain was a little easier. It stayed inside my head that day, but Tuesday while I worked and cooked dinner, I started to mouth it to myself and by the time I went to bed, I could say it in a whisper. My dream that night was awful, but when I woke up, I said her name and felt an odd sense of strength.

By Wednesday, I was caught in a strange dichotomy. My success with acclimatising to the thought of my brother's girlfriend made me feel victorious, while the sleeplessness from my nightmares drained my energy and my worries about Jules consumed most of my waking thoughts. I was tired, aching, and genuinely concerned that I wouldn't survive until the end of the week. I walked out of school at barely more than a shuffle, forcing myself to take a much-needed break when we got home by sitting in front of the TV for a few hours, letting whatever random programme was on distract me from my own increasingly complicated life.

Over dinner that night, Beau told Charlie that Edythe was coming for a visit over the weekend and would arrive sometime after school on Friday. I was pleased to find my preparation had worked, and I barely reacted to hearing her name. He looked surprised but quickly shifted to pleased.

"It'll be good to see her again," he commented. "You have any plans, or are you just going to hang around the house a bit?"

Beau shrugged, while I kept my attention firmly on getting the right amount of spaghetti twirled around my fork. "We might go for a little hike if the weather's good. We'll stay on the trails and not go too far, I promise." He must have seen how our dad frowned at the mention of hiking.

"I want you to stay out of the woods altogether," he grumbled, putting down his cutlery to cross his arms in a move that made my stomach sink; he wasn't going to let us go out, and the entire weekend would be wasted.

Beau, however, either didn't read the same finality in Charlie's movement that I did, or he was stubborn enough himself to try to fight him. "Come on, Dad, we're not going camping in the wilderness or anything. We'll just take a walk along the path out back, won't even go that far from the house." He put on his best convincing voice, the one that always worked on our mother and had had its fair share of success with Charlie, too. "You know how outdoorsy Edythe is. She's getting restless, stuck in the city all the time. You can't really expect me to keep her in the house when there's such great hiking options so close."

I waited for his reply, wishing I could cross my fingers but not wanting to risk pulling my hands out of sight to try it. I also didn't try to join in with the deception; my awful lying wouldn't help matters at all.

Charlie was studying Beau's face closely, as if searching for something. Finally, he seemed to see what he wanted, and relented with a weary sigh. "Alright, as long as you're careful."

Beau beamed. "We will be, Dad. Right, Bella?"

"For sure," I said, nodding and smiling, hoping my eyes wouldn't give away how frantically I needed to get out into the woods on Saturday.

As Friday crept closer, it was a wonder I got anything done at school or work; my head was a constant whirl of complicated emotions, wondering what the weekend would bring, worrying about Jules, and trying to keep a thousand dark memories at bay. Though I pretended to ignore them, I couldn't miss the anxious looks that both my brother and father frequently shot me when they thought I wasn't looking. I kept working on my little piece of paper, and soon I could say and think the name 'Edythe' without any trouble, though I found any attempt to picture her was still too much. Even the pieces – her eyes, her hair, her smile, her silhouette – were just one step too far. I began to get nervous again, sure I wouldn't be able to handle being face to face with her.

Beau took the driver's seat after school on Friday, and I was happy to let him do it even though it was my driving day. When we got home, I retreated to my room to knock out my homework and he let me go, settling himself in front of something mindless on TV; he'd somehow managed to get himself out of his shifts at work both tonight and tomorrow, and had even convinced Mrs Newton to give me Saturday off, too. There were times I wondered whether my brother was running some sort of secret blackmail ring; he seemed to be able to get half the population of this town to do whatever he wanted with remarkably little effort.

I heard Charlie come in and the two of them talking, unable to make out anything beyond the hum of deep male voices. The hours on the clock ticked past with no sign of Edythe. Just as I wondered whether there might have been a change of plans without anyone telling me, the distinct sound of a knock on the door echoed through the house.

"I got it!" Beau bellowed unnecessarily.

I took my time finishing the last problem on my Calculus homework and carefully checked over each equation before I finally accepted that it was time to make an appearance. But I only made it as far as the banister of the upstairs landing before I stopped again. Downstairs, Charlie was greeting Edythe, and the sound of her melodic voice had brought me up short as the fault line down the middle of my chest gave a sharp twinge.

"Feels like forever since you've been around," Charlie said as I stood there frozen in pain and indecision.

"Yes, work has been an absolute nightmare the last few months," Edythe sighed, the lies falling from her lips with just the right amount of regret and frustrated weariness. "I've been using any spare days I get to visit the family."

"Of course, as you should." When he spoke again, my dad sounded uncomfortable, and I could picture the expression that would be on his face – guarded, his moustache twitching as he tried to find the right words. "How, um, how's everybody doing?"

"They're well," Edythe replied breezily. "Carine has settled into her new job nicely, and Alice and the others are getting on great at school." She didn't specify any other names or offer any further details, and I was glad; even those two caused little flutters of pain. I hadn't thought to prepare for mentions of the others, and I was already kicking myself for it. After an awkwardly long pause, Beau jumped in to fill the silence.

"Have you eaten? Dinner's almost ready."

"I stopped on the road, but that was a few hours ago. I wouldn't say no to a small plate. What are we having?"

"Chilli." I could hear the grin in his voice, and she giggled lightly in response, the sound like a silver wind chime.

"Just don't let me add the seasoning," she joked, making both Beau and Charlie laugh along with her.

I couldn't deny that the sound of so much happiness hurt; knowing that I couldn't join in with it, that no matter how I tried, I could never fake a smile convincingly enough to make me look like anything more than an awkward hanger-on to their joy. Still, if I didn't go down soon, I was going to get called down, and that would be even worse. Bracing myself, I slowly descended the stairs.

The sight of Edythe nearly snatched all the air from my lungs. With as much as I'd been shying away from any memories that might lead me to thoughts of him, and all my failures to properly picture her in the last few days, it was almost like seeing her for the first time all over again. And just like my first sight of her, way back on the morning of my first day at Forks High School, well over a year ago now, I was instantly struck by just how beautiful she was. Her wide, doll-like eyes were butterscotch gold today, the shadows below them the palest shade of lavender, and her white skin warmed with just the tiniest bit of a pink flush – perhaps she hadn't been entirely lying about stopping to eat on her way here. Her copper hair was twisted back into a messy bun held in place with a pair of wooden hair sticks, and even though the style was supposed to be casual and thrown-together, it looked like something from a magazine photo spread; even the strands escaping from the twist seemed artfully and carefully selected. She smiled when she saw me, just a small upturn of her perfect pink lips – no teeth – and took a few steps in my direction, stopping when I paused at the base of the stairs. Beau had ducked into the kitchen, presumably to check on dinner, but Charlie hovered and I could feel the burn of his gaze on me, no doubt waiting to see whether I would have a nervous breakdown just from seeing her again.

"Hi," I forced out, breaking the silence before it could get too awkward.

"Hello, Bella." Her smile stayed small but warm, her body language open and unthreatening — like she was approaching a jittery animal. "It's been a while."

"It has," I agreed. Then, because I was still feeling somewhat stable despite my aching chest, I added, "Too long. I missed you."

Her expression didn't change at all, yet I was sure there was something in her eyes that seemed pleased by my words. "I missed you too."

She took another tentative step closer, and I found I couldn't handle the slow approach anymore; it was once again giving me that feeling of being a bomb that everyone was expecting to explode at any moment. I closed the distance between us and recklessly pulled her into a hug. If she was startled by the sudden affection, she got over it too fast for me to notice, immediately hugging me back. Her arms were solid and cold, her body unyielding, and though they absolutely reminded me of another marble-like chest, other rock-hard arms, it wasn't as painful as I had been expecting. Not completely pain-free – that would be impossible – but bearable, perhaps because her steady embrace helped hold my hollow chest together even as it tried to split apart.

"Grub's up!" Beau hollered, banging a spoon against the pot loudly. "Come and get it!"

I pulled back and rolled my eyes, smiling weakly. "As you can tell, he hasn't grown up at all while you've been gone."

Edythe laughed lightly. "Oh, but he wouldn't be Beau if he wasn't just a little obnoxious, now would he?"

"I heard that!" the boy in question objected.

Charlie chuckled. "Come on, girls, let's go get some food."

Dinner was quiet, but in that comfortable, 'nothing needs to be said' sort of way. Edythe asked a few generic questions about Charlie's work and how things were going at school; for the most part, though, our dad was too focused on his plate to pay attention to much else. I ate slowly, my appetite still not what it once had been despite my brother's efforts to keep me well fed. I was pretty sure Edythe's small portion was just the amount that Beau already knew I wouldn't eat, which actually worked out well since it meant I cleaned my plate for the first time in longer than I cared to think about. Though he tried his best to hide it, I caught the pleased look that crossed my dad's face when I put the final forkful in my mouth.

"Charlie, I hate to impose," Edythe said as we were finishing, a perfect embarrassed half-smile on her face. "But is it alright if I stay here? I couldn't find a hotel room and the house is all shut up…"

"Of course, honey, we'd be glad to have you. The couch is always open. Unless…" Charlie looked at me, his eyes lighting up with a sudden idea. "We could set something up in your room, Bells, and you two could have a little slumber party. What do you think?"

Honestly, I wanted to say no. If only because if Edythe was 'sleeping' on the sofa, it would make it easier for her to slip in and out of my brother's room undetected. But there was such a hopeful look on my dad's face, I felt horrible refusing his suggestion. Edythe's smile was pleasant but gave away nothing about how she felt about the situation; when I glanced at Beau, he just gave a small shrug, as if to say, 'Do what you want, I don't care.'

She'll probably spend the whole night downstairs anyway, I reasoned. It can't hurt.

"Sure," I said, forcing my face into something resembling a cheerful expression. "Sounds like fun."

"Yes, that's a wonderful idea," Edythe agreed. "Goodness, I don't think I've ever been to a slumber party before." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at me, showing her dimples. "You'll have to show me what to do."

"I'm hardly an expert." I fidgeted in my seat. "I never had many party invites myself."

She laid her hand soothingly on my arm, and I hoped no one else saw how she hesitated at the last moment, testing whether I would let her touch me. "We'll figure it out together, then."

I could only nod, once again forcing myself to smile as much as I could.

After dinner, Charlie foraged an inflatable camping mattress that looked like it had seen better days from the depths of the garage, pumping it up to check for leaks and giving it a quick hose down before he wrestled it upstairs. I had to squeeze the rocking chair right into the corner to make room for it, and my desk was going to be out of commission for the duration of Edythe's stay as its chair became wedged in place, but eventually we made everything fit. I helped her make up the bed with spare sheets, pillows and covers from the linen closet; when it was done, she sat down delicately as if testing it for comfort.

"Thank you for letting me invade your space," she said, a bashful smile on her face. "I'll try not to be too much in the way."

"I don't mind. I figure you'll be in Beau's room most of the night, anyway." I was sure Charlie was already downstairs, putting the garage back to rights, and wouldn't overhear us.

"I don't have to be," she ventured tentatively. "I really have missed you, Bella. I'd like to spend some time together if you're amenable to it."

Her words and the genuinely hopeful tone they were delivered in threw me off guard. "O-okay," I stuttered stupidly. "But, um… After I fall asleep…"

"I won't sit and stare at you, if that's what you're worried about." She winked to show she was joking, but I could also see the worry in her eyes.

"Thanks." I huffed out a terrible excuse for a laugh. "But that isn't quite what I meant."

Edythe moved from her bed to mine, patting the mattress beside her in a gentle invitation. I sat down, twisting my hands together in my lap nervously. She put her arm around my shoulders with the lightest possible pressure; I knew I could easily pull away if I wanted to. Perhaps it was that understanding, her recognition that I didn't want to be confined, that made me brave enough to finally say what I had been dancing around. Even so, I was too nervous about the admission to speak above a whisper or look at her.

"I have nightmares. Really bad ones, nearly every night. They sort of came and went for a little while, but they're back now and…" I swallowed hard. "Just… if I start screaming, don't be alarmed. It's just the dreams."

I waited, shoulders tensed beneath her arm, for her reaction. I wasn't sure what she would say – would it be an awkward platitude or an offhand dismissal? Would she be concerned, or scared, or perhaps see this as proof of some severe mental problem? She would certainly know, or at the very least be able to guess, what the source of my bad dreams was.

"Well, you know it won't disturb me," she finally said, her tone light and breezy. "Should I try to wake you, or does that make things worse?"

When I looked up, she was smiling softly, nothing but empathy and a gentle desire to help in her expression. It was disarming in that way she always was – the overwhelming force of her beauty brought to bear.

"I, er… I usually wake myself up," I stuttered, fidgeting a little uncomfortably. "And I'll drop back off pretty quickly if it's not already morning."

"Have you talked to anyone about these nightmares?" she asked casually, as if she were suggesting I should check when my homework was due. "Beau or your father?"

I shook my head hard. "No, no, I don't want to worry them. I mean, they know I have them, they can't really miss that." I gave an awkward shrug. "But Beau would want to fix it and Charlie would probably try to make me see a shrink and… I just don't think it would help."

She made a humming sound that wasn't really an agreement, just an acknowledgement, and sat quietly for a moment. Then she said, "Bella, may I be completely transparent with you?"

I tensed. What would she want to tell me? If it was about him, I would have to stop her, and I didn't want to be rude. But by the same measure, I couldn't flat out deny her the chance to speak. I only got more nervous when she removed her arm from around me, her hands folded primly in her lap. She was like a statue next to me, and it was this which finally made up my mind. I remembered that this was a sure-fire sign of anxiety for her; where humans fidgeted, vampires went still. She was as scared to say this as I was to hear it, but she obviously felt it needed to be said.

"Alright," I finally whispered, unable to manage anything louder but knowing she would hear me.

Her golden eyes were abruptly full of deep sadness as she dropped some kind of mask that I hadn't realised she was wearing. "I already knew about your nightmares. I was here when you had the first one, and there have been a few when I've been visiting more… quietly. I wanted to help, but I didn't want to upset you and Beau always told me it was best to leave you be." She looked down, shame in every line of her face. "I hope you can forgive me."

"For what?" I blurted out without thinking. "You can't control my dreams, and you're right, it probably would have been worse if I'd woken up to find you suddenly here."

"But that isn't the only thing I have to apologise for." She was suddenly intense, that swift shift in mood that I wasn't used to after all this time and which was far too much of a reminder of someone else at that moment. The fault line rippled once again.

Edythe was still talking as I struggled to keep myself from spiralling into my memories. "I'm sorry for everything that happened. I'm sorry for not doing more to stop it, I'm sorry for not realising that everyone was leaving, and I'm sorry for not bringing them back. Most of all, I am so, so sorry for the pain I caused by staying, and by leaving in the end after all. I thought I could help somehow, but I realised it was nothing more than selfishness to subject you to the memories that my presence brought back." Her eyes turned desperately sad and her sharp intake of breath hitched, as if she would be crying if she still could. "And that I am sure I am bringing back now. That is why I wanted to stay away, because I seem to be incapable of causing you anything but pain. I-"

I had started slowly shaking my head during her little speech, the speed gradually increasing, and she finally seemed to notice when my hair swished against her shoulder. She broke off suddenly, her marble forehead creased in a deep frown. I took advantage of the moment of silence to say my piece.

"None of this is your fault, Edythe." All my practice had paid off; her name fell from my lips without thought or effort. "I think… well, I'm pretty sure it would be the same whether you were here or not."

She looked sad again, but mostly frustrated, and that frustration built as she talked. "I gathered as much from what Beau has been telling me. Which is what makes it all that much more infuriating – I feel as if all I've been doing for months has been a colossal waste of time." Her gently folded hands curled into solid little fists, her expression now murderous. "God, I could throttle E-"

"Please don't!" The words practically exploded out of me, and though I felt bad for cutting her off, I had to stop her. His name would be too much, and even if she knew some of what I had been going through, I didn't want to fall to pieces in front of her like that. She looked startled by my outburst and I shrank in on myself, shoulders hunching in embarrassment. "I- I'm sorry, I just…"

"No, it's alright." Her tone was soothing now, all hostility wiped away as quickly as it had come. "It was thoughtless of me. Of course, we won't talk about that, unless you would like to."

I laughed humourlessly, feeling tears prickle at the corner of my eyes. I wondered idly if that might be considered progress; I hadn't cried in a long time.

"It's going to be a hard topic to avoid," I said dully, twisting my hands in my lap. "I mean, can you even tell me what you've been up to without talking about-" God, how bad was it that I couldn't even say him out loud? Was I really so afraid of his name that it made me scared of a simple pronoun, too?

She shook her head. "No, I don't suppose I can."

We sat in silence for a while, and I hated it. There hadn't been this kind of awkwardness between Edythe and I… well, ever, if I really thought about it. She'd been standoffish when we first met, but that was more of a cool indifference, an attempt to keep me as much at a distance as she could given our mutual connection, the way they all kept humans at arm's length so their secret stayed safely concealed. All the awkward discomfort was on my side. Once I had found out the truth, perhaps even a little before then, she had become kind and open, our conversations always flowing easily. And once I was fully a part of their world, there had been so many afternoons sat giggling away about our brothers, usually with them in the room listening in exasperation.

Now, even remembering those times was making my chest hurt again.

"I hate this," I huffed.

"Me too," Edythe murmured, looking down at the floor.

"I mean," I went on, feeling my frustration rising. "We're two people with reasonable intelligence and our own independent lives." Not much of one in my case, but I didn't think that needed bringing up. "We must have something to talk about other than our families."

"Such as?" Edythe glanced around the room as if a suitable topic of conversation would jump out from one of the corners at any moment.

I pursed my lips, then went with the first thing that came to mind. "Read any good books lately?"

There was a beat of silence before Edythe started laughing. It began as just a tiny chuckle but swiftly built into a giggle, tinkling like a wind chime, and then a full-blown laugh that I couldn't help joining, though with far less energy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she finally panted, wiping a non-existent tear from her eye. "That was just… so sudden, it seemed absurd."

"Too normal for us?" I asked jokingly, feeling quite glad that I could still joke; I'd been sure my sarcastic streak was still recovering and only really worked with Jules.

She shrugged lightly. "Well, what is normal, after all? I think I prefer it to some of our other topics of conversation in the past. And I do actually have a book on me." She stood and grabbed her bag, helpfully ferried upstairs by Beau, digging out a paperback that was pristine but for the slightest creasing of the spine. The cover proclaimed it to be Gregory Maguire's Wicked. "Ever read this one?"

"No, I don't think so, but I've heard of it." I tilted my head to the side. "Didn't they make it into a musical?"

"Yes, but the stories are almost entirely distinct."

We must have spent the next half an hour just talking about books, and it finally felt like we were getting back to something resembling normal, even though I had to carefully skip past some of my old favourites as I searched my shelves for recommendations to give her. A lot of my music had gone in the trash, but even in the haze I hadn't been able to bear hurting my books, so my battered Wuthering Heights and my collected Austen novels were still there, gathering dust.

Edythe had read most of my collection, of course, but I did find one she wasn't familiar with: Tooth and Claw by Jo Walton, a bit of an oddball even in my collection but one I'd enjoyed every time I'd read it. She was curious enough that I passed the book over for her to read then and there; she gave me Wicked in exchange, and we sat side by side on my bed, reading quietly, the epitome of companionable silence. I felt a rare rush of victory – maybe there was hope for our relationship after all.

Beau found us still happily engrossed when he came to check on us a little while later. His expression was wary as he opened the door, but when he saw what we were doing, it dropped into a playfully irate frown. "Really? I've been abandoned in favour of a book?"

Edythe smiled at him adoringly. "In favour of your sister, Beau. We just happened to settle on reading as a nice shared activity."

My brother dived forward abruptly, draping himself over what little space was left on the bed so that his head ended up in her lap; she quickly moved the book out of the way to keep it from getting crushed.

The frown turned into a pout and a pair of wide, puppy dog eyes, with a whine to match. "But you came to see meee."

"I came to visit both of you," she corrected, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "And it has been a lot longer since I've seen Bella. You will just have to be patient."

"Yeah, Beau, share," I quipped, mostly to distract myself from the twinge of pain that ran up the fault line in my chest. I'd often felt the need to look away when they got affectionate, usually because it felt like an intrusion to watch; they had always made even the most innocent of gestures seem intimate. Now, though, I averted my eyes to avoid the reminders of times I had held someone like that, when there had been a head laid on my lap and wild, soft hair that my fingers could weave through.

Thankfully, I was saved from sliding back into that same painful awkwardness from before by Charlie arriving at the door. He seemed quite pleased to see the three of us sat together, if the way the corner of his mouth turned up under his moustache was any indication.

"Hey there, kiddos," he said brightly. "You all good up here?"

"Bella stole my girlfriend," Beau complained, still pouting but thankfully sitting up.

"Or maybe she just likes me better," I shot back, doing my best to lean into the lighter mood he was creating.

Beau moved as if to grab hold of me – to what purpose, I couldn't even imagine – but Edythe ostentatiously blocked his way, keeping herself between us in a protective pose; I could just see the edge of a wide, mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"See?" I said, sticking my tongue out at him as I shifted to sit on my knees further towards my headboard, putting a little more distance between us. The whole bed bounced with the movement, and Beau wobbled dramatically.

Charlie chuckled at our antics. "Well, I'm glad you're having fun, and I hate to break up the party, but I'm headed to bed. I know it's a Friday night and you don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so I won't make you turn in, but I'd appreciate it if you keep the noise down, alright?"

"We can settle down too, Dad," I insisted.

Edythe nodded. "Yes, we would hate to disturb you."

"Probably best if we all get some sleep," Beau agreed. "We'll all have a long day tomorrow, so we want to be well rested."

Charlie looked a little taken aback, likely from the three of us all giving in so easily, then shrugged slightly, mostly to himself. "Suit yourselves. Sweet dreams, all of you."

We all wished him goodnight in a messy, overlapping chorus of voices, and he retreated to his room with a loud yawn.

"He's still working more than usual?" Edythe murmured when she was sure he had gone.

Beau nodded. "All this bear stuff is really running him ragged. And now it's turning into a missing person case, which I don't think he's ever had to work before…" He shook his head, his face unusually grave. "I hope the rangers catch that thing soon so he can relax a little."

"Maybe I can take a crack at it." Edythe flashed her bright teeth; they glinted in the low light, looking very sharp, sending a light shiver up my spine for several reasons.

Beau, on the other hand, was unbothered by the thought of his girlfriend hunting down an enormous wild animal. "You hate bear."

She shrugged. "It isn't my favourite, but I'll take it if it's offered. Though your father is right, you should be cautious until someone manages to catch it."

"You'll keep us safe." Beau was absolutely confident, clearly no doubt in his mind about her ability to protect us.

"But I won't always be there," she reminded him sternly. "I'm afraid that at the risk of sounding dictatorial, I have to echo Charlie's sentiments – please don't go into the woods without me there, either of you."

"Have you ever heard of a bear getting that big?" I asked; surely in a hundred-and-change years of living, she would have come across just about every animal imaginable, at least in North America.

Yet she just shook her head. "No, I haven't. That doesn't mean it's impossible, of course, but all the same…"

"We'll be careful," I promised. I might be searching for recklessness, but I didn't actually have a death wish, and running from an enormous bear wasn't quite the adrenaline rush I had in mind.

We started getting ourselves organised for bed then. Beau took the first turn in the bathroom since he only needed to brush his teeth, then Edythe followed after him. She came back into my room wearing a pyjama set that looked surprisingly comfortable, with a mossy green top and green plaid pants, in a thicker fabric clearly designed for warmth. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting her to wear to 'sleep', but it wasn't this. She'd taken the little sticks out of her hair, the long bronze tresses hanging loose around her shoulders. She even had bare feet.

She must have seen my astonishment on my face, though I did my best to hide it, and smiled knowingly. "Would you believe me if I told you this isn't the first time I've worn these?"

"Maybe," I hedged. "But I'll probably still check the bathroom trash for the tags."

Edythe laughed her silver bell laugh, a smirk lingering on her lips. "Oh Bella, you really think I would be so sloppy?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, so I just grinned back at her and went to take my turn in the bathroom. I took my time in the shower, going through the whole routine of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Then I brushed my teeth thoroughly and combed my hair until it was tangle-free and poker-straight.

When I got back to my room, Edythe was laid back on the air mattress under the covers, reading Tooth and Claw again. She was already over a third through it and turning the pages faster than I would have, but otherwise she made the perfect picture of a young girl reading before bed. She smiled at me over the top of the book as I shut the door and clambered into my own bed.

"I'll stay up here until your father is all the way asleep," she explained, obviously seeing the unspoken questions in my eyes. "Unless you'd like me to go sooner."

"No, that's fine," I said quickly, not wanting her to think I was trying to kick her out. "You can stay as long as you like." I debated for a few seconds before making my next request. "Can you pass me my journal and a pen? They should be on the desk right there."

She found them easily, handing over the leather-bound notebook and the finest point pen. There was a politely curious look on her face as she asked, "Do you write a lot?"

I shook my head, avoiding her gaze just a little as I unwrapped the leather cord and opened the book to the next blank page. My doodles from Wednesday still didn't have any words to go with them, mostly because I'd been feeling too anxious to write anything, but I thought I was settled enough to do a little tonight.

"Not a lot," I said, answering her question and deciding it couldn't hurt to be more honest. "I did a bunch back in September, then… well, nothing for a while. Recently I've been getting back into it."

"Does it help at all?" Still that calm, casual look, no hint of any particularly intense interest. "Getting things down on paper, I mean."

"I don't really write the hard stuff down," I admitted, curling up with the book propped on my knees as I carefully wrote the date at the top of the page. My legs were not nearly as stable as my desk, so I would have to take my time if I was going to make this even slightly legible.

Edythe was a little more hesitant as she spoke again, just the slightest waver in her calm, collected demeanour. "Would it be terribly invasive of me to ask to take a look?"

I gnawed on my lip, not sure whether I wanted to let her. I knew I would be well within my rights to tell her to butt out; after all, it was essentially a diary, and those were made to be private. I flicked back through a few pages – not all the way to the front, of course, just the more recent entries – skimming over the lines to see if there was anything in there I didn't want her to know. But it was like I had told her, none of the hard stuff, and none of the crazy either. Just lots about Jules and Beau and school; not much more than I had put in my emails to my mother. Apparently, I couldn't even unload my deepest, darkest thoughts properly.

"Alright," I decided at last, closing the book over as I handed it to her. "Just excuse the awful handwriting."

Edythe's smile was so grateful, it made me feel simultaneously pleased and awkward. She started right at the beginning, tracing over my attempt to calligraphy my name into the inside cover with her graceful fingers, then opening the first page with actual writing. She read quickly, just like with the book, and when she turned to the next page in under a minute, I knew I needed a distraction, or I was going to catch sight of something I couldn't handle yet. I grabbed Wicked, which she had helpfully left on my nightstand, and tried to find my place, keeping curled in my little ball and careful not to look her way. When I chanced a peek, she had tilted the book up in her lap so I couldn't see the pictures, much to my relief; I could just see the extra edge to the page that told me there was a photo there, and there was something sad in her eyes that made me sure I knew what page she was reading.

In the time it took me to finish two pages, she was done. She handed the book back on the page I'd been about to start working on, smiling softly.

"Thank you. That took a lot of trust," she said, sounding like she really meant it. "Your drawings are lovely."

I shrugged one shoulder, embarrassed. "They're just doodles."

"No, they're good," she insisted. "That one of our house, did you do that from memory?"

"The one from September? Yeah." I fidgeted, having another internal debate before I admitted, "I went back there a few weeks ago."

She looked surprised. "Really?"

"Well…" I pursed my lips. "It might have been more like a month or two. I keep losing track of time recently."

"Easily done." She smiled gently, no judgement at all on her face, only clear curiosity. "Why did you go there?"

I was committed now – no sense in hiding anymore. "Sort of the same reason I want to find the meadow. I was… looking for memories, ones that wouldn't hurt. Some kind of… of proof… that it was all real." I sighed. "I guess that probably sounds silly to you."

"No." She shook her head, her hair swishing gently around her shoulders. "No, that's perfectly reasonable. Especially under the circumstances. I'm happy to help."

To my relief, she didn't elaborate any further, and I felt safe to give her another awkward half-smile and get down to actually writing my journal entry. It was a short one, just a brief explanation of Edythe's arrival and our plans for the next day. After a bit of mental back and forth, I decided against putting down any of my worries about Jules. Better to keep the darkness out, I decided – make it a casual note whenever she finally got better, a celebration rather than a record of my paranoid anxiety.

I was suddenly exhausted. Some combination of the long day at school, the buildup of worry and disturbed sleep, and the multiple intense conversations since dinner had suddenly sapped all my energy; my eyelids were heavy, and I wanted nothing but to sleep, even knowing what was coming when I did. I slowly wrapped my journal in its cord, setting it aside on my nightstand and trying to decide on the best way to tell a girl who didn't need to sleep that it was bedtime. Luckily, I didn't have to; with a knowing look, Edythe got up and turned out the lights, leaving the room in darkness. I heard the soft rustle of fabric as she got back into her makeshift bed.

"Goodnight, Bella," she whispered.

"Goodnight," I murmured back, laying down and pulling my covers up to my chin.

There was the softest possible sound of pages turning – of course she could still read in the dark – and there was a strange kind of comfort in it. I knew I wasn't alone, but I didn't feel the sense of being watched that I had expected, and it didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep.

As I'd predicted, I woke screaming on Saturday morning. It took me a few moments to work out why that fact made me more tense than usual, until I rolled over and saw the abandoned air mattress on my floor, and I remembered my temporary roommate. The covers were appropriately rumpled, my copy of Tooth and Claw left on the desk. I wasn't sure whether she had snuck off to my brother's room or taken herself downstairs to pretend to eat breakfast, but I took advantage of my current relative privacy.

Because I also quickly realised that as of today, my week of waiting was over – I could call Jules again. I was unreasonably excited, especially given that the only thing stopping me from trying to talk to her was my own foolish decision (and I hadn't even managed to follow my own rules properly). I could only hope that the phone lines had finally been fixed. If I couldn't get through… well, at this point, I was sorely tempted just to show up on the doorstep again. Maybe I could convince Beau to swing by on our way home later.

I hadn't gone as far as saving the Blacks' number in my phone, but I did now have it memorised from repeated calls, so it was the work of only seconds to get it ringing. I got up, heading for the dresser; chances were this call was going to be like all the others, so I might as well at least pick out my clothes while I waited.

So I was caught off guard when Bonnie's voice came through the phone after only two rings.

"Hello?"

"Oh!" I stopped dead, right in the middle of my bedroom floor. "Hey Bonnie, it's Bella. I guess the phone lines got fixed, that's good. How's Jules doing?"

"She's a lot better." There was something odd about Bonnie's tone; it was nervous and distracted, almost like she didn't want to talk.

"Not a bad case of mono, then?" I asked, feeling that illogical suspicion rising again.

"Yeah," she said, then quickly backtracked. "I mean, no, we actually think it was some other virus now, something that looked enough like mono that she got misdiagnosed."

"Well, that's… good." I felt a frown creasing my forehead. "Can I talk to her really quickly?"

"Sorry, Bella, she's just gone out. Headed out to Port Angeles with some friends. I think they're planning to be there all day."

"Alright." My voice was breezy, somehow not giving away any hint of the strange, unsettled feeling rolling in my stomach. "I'm glad she's feeling well enough to get out of the house. Thanks, Bonnie, that's made my day."

"Glad to help." Still, that preoccupied air to her voice. Was she watching TV or something? Charlie got like this sometimes when anyone tried to talk to him during a game. "Well, unless there was anything else you needed…"

"Nope, just checking in. Will you let Jules know I called?"

"I'll do that," she promised. "Bye, Bella."

"Bye," I said, but the line had already disconnected.

I frowned down at my phone for a minute. When had Bonnie got so rude? More to the point, what had happened to Jules in the last week? Was it just horribly selfish of me to expect that I would be the first person she called when she was feeling better? She had other friends, of course she did, and they had to be less complicated friendships than ours – obviously, because she had chosen them over me apparently without thought. She must be rethinking all those promises from Friday night already, and I didn't blame her; it was far better for both of us if she didn't pursue what she so clearly wanted. And yet it still stung that we couldn't even be friends anymore because of it.

I wasn't entirely sure how I got dressed; it seemed that one moment I was standing in my room, staring down at my phone, and the next second I was halfway down the stairs in jeans, t-shirt, and a thick flannel overshirt. I stopped, panic making my throat suddenly tight. I'd gone into the haze again, and though it was only brief, that time lost bothered me in a way it hadn't even a few weeks ago. It was a step backwards, a sign I was sliding into the worst of the depression, and that truly scared me. After the haze would surely come the zombie, a state to be avoided at all costs – I couldn't do that to Beau and Charlie again, not now, not after so long of being something like okay.

At least Haze Bella had put on warm clothes and thick socks. Even in the fog, I had enough common sense to dress for the hike we had planned.

Beau and Edythe were both similarly dressed when I found them in the kitchen; my brother sat at the table wolfing down his breakfast while his girlfriend leaned against the counter, sipping delicately from a mug that I was sure was just as full as when she'd been given it. The smell of coffee filled the air, and they were chatting amiably with Charlie as he dug through the fridge. The picture was warm and comfortable, and I couldn't escape the feeling that I was about to ruin it.

Edythe smiled at me as I came in. "Good morning, Bella."

"Morning," I mumbled back, still feeling unsettled from both the conversation with Bonnie and my few minutes of lost time. I made a concerted effort to keep myself in the moment, squaring my shoulders a little as I crossed the room to take a seat and pour my own bowl of cereal.

My brother arched an eyebrow at me, a searching look in his eyes. "You good?"

"Fine," I replied, almost certain that he wouldn't believe me. "I finally got through to Bonnie, and she says Jules is feeling better."

"That's good," Charlie said, emerging from the fridge with a packet of cheese slices in his hand. "You going to head down there later, or is she well enough to come here?"

Edythe stiffened ever so slightly, barely enough to be noticeable, but enough to abruptly remind me why it was a bad idea for me to even suggest a stop-off at Jules' house later – Edythe and her family weren't allowed on the reservation. I didn't fully understand the ins and outs of it, but I did know it was a rule they took very seriously. Likewise, Bonnie was very unlikely to let Jules come visit us while Edythe was also here; she'd never approved of Beau's relationship with her and would be focused on protecting her daughter from the perceived threat that our guest posed.

"We've got plans today, Dad," I reminded him gently. "Besides, she's gone out with some of her other friends. Are you making lunch already?"

It was a shameless attempt at distraction, but it worked; Charlie went back to arranging the ingredients for a sandwich on the counter, his focus on the food allowing Edythe a moment to settle herself and return to her relaxed posture. She flashed me a knowing and grateful look, and I winked, feeling a little silly but also somewhat enjoying the clandestine scheming.

"Sort of," he said gruffly. "Putting some stuff together to take to the river. Harry wants to go fishing, and the weather's half decent today."

Beau was grinning widely, setting down his spoon as he swallowed the last bite of his cereal. "Nice. That'll make our walk more enjoyable. Now we just have to worry about keeping Bella upright."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Like you'll be any better, jerk."

He reached over to try and mess up my hair and I ducked out of the way, swatting at his hand. Edythe giggled, but Charlie was frowning.

"I still don't feel comfortable with you all going out into the woods. We've got another missing hiker, and this one was just walking, not camping."

"We'll be fine, Dad," Beau insisted, the picture of confidence. "We already promised we'll be careful."

"If your father is that worried, perhaps we should alter our plans, Beau," Edythe cut in gently. "From what you've been telling me, this bear does sound rather formidable."

"It's all just rumours," Beau argued. "No one's actually seen the thing clearly."

"Still, there's people disappearing now," I chimed in. "Maybe we should go somewhere a bit more populated to enjoy the good weather."

Beau flashed me a look, and I knew why; it had been, if not my idea, at least my desire to find the meadow that had decided our plans for the day. I wanted to send him some kind of signal to trust me, but there was no way I could do it subtly enough for Charlie not to notice.

But my main goal was achieved – our father looked pleased. "Thank you, Bella. At least one of you is being sensible."

He didn't stay much longer after that, so thankfully I didn't have to keep up the charade, although I had to suffer or deflect more than one sharp pinch from my brother as he tried to get my attention.

Beau rounded on me as soon as the door closed behind Charlie. "Well, I'm officially lost. Are you actually worried about running into a monster bear? You realise we have the apex of apex predators coming with us, right?"

"Of course I know that." I rolled my eyes. "We're still going out, just like we planned."

He blinked a few times. "But…"

"Charlie wasn't happy about it," I explained. "And he wasn't going to change his mind quickly. It was easier just to bypass the fight entirely. Now we can do whatever we want, and as long as we cover our tracks, he'll be none the wiser."

"I could have convinced him," Beau grumbled. "Don't forget, I've been handling him for longer than you have."

"If either of our parents needs handling, it's Renée," I argued. "Charlie is all about negotiation. Besides, which is better, battling to convince him to let us do something he doesn't think is safe, or convincing him it isn't happening at all?"

I had him there, and he knew it if the disgruntled look on his face was anything to go by. And even knowing it was petty and childish, I couldn't help flashing him a small victorious smile.

Edythe chuckled. "You know, Bella, I'm ashamed to admit that I forget how smart you are sometimes. There are a lot of people who underestimate you, aren't there?"

"Precisely why my plans usually work," I said with a small shrug. "No one expects me to come up with them."

Beau was recovering quickly from his grump; he clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation, his grin slowly returning. "Alright then, let's get this show on the road."

We didn't actually leave immediately, as my brother insisted on making us our own picnic lunch before we set off.

"You might eat like a bird, but I need proper sustenance," he quipped when I tried to hurry him along.

While he worked, I showed Edythe the map, which Jules and I had been keeping in the truck for ease of access. She seemed impressed with the organisation of it and I felt proud on my friend's behalf. Edythe had never actually had to find the meadow on a map and wasn't sure exactly where it was, but she was fairly certain we had been getting close, which was also comforting.

Finally, we piled into the truck and got going. The suggestion of taking the Impala instead was surprisingly shot down by Edythe herself.

"I couldn't possibly choose who to turf into the back seat on their own," she insisted, her angelic smile on full display.

As it was, she ended up wedged in the middle of the bench seat between the two of us, with Beau driving and me on the passenger side. She seemed quite happy to be there, keeping my attention occupied with easy questions about school so that the drive seemed to pass in no time at all and we were soon pulling to a stop at the end of the little dirt road with its tiny trail marker that all of us completely ignored. I'd never been here with my brother, but it was obvious that it was a familiar space to him; he smiled as he looked around, like he was coming back to a well-known and well-loved place.

Edythe was also looking especially contented, stretching unnecessarily and taking a deep breath through her nose.

"Ah," she sighed happily. "The Washington wilderness – there's nothing quite like it in the world. It always feels like coming home." She beamed at both of us. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way," I agreed, gesturing towards the wall of greenery.

The walk through the woods was very different with Beau and Edythe as my travelling companions. There was none of Jules' smooth, unfiltered chatter; instead, the conversation felt very careful, with Beau doing most of the talking and prattling on about the comings and goings of our school friends, which I was sure Edythe didn't care about in the slightest. But she couldn't really offer anything in return, because the only people she could talk about were off limits. Beau had clearly told her my triggers, if she hadn't worked them out by herself, and now they were both trying their best to protect poor, breakable little Bella. It was mildly irritating to be so coddled. I was actually feeling somewhat put together today, even after my lapse into the haze this morning, but I had to admit that I could only imagine how bad it would have been to be doing this on my own – far too much like my nightmares for comfort.

I also wasn't oblivious to the fact that the two of them were keeping an unusual level of distance from each other; their typical casual touches were conspicuously absent, and they walked a good three feet apart, when I would have expected them to be glued to each other's sides after so much time apart. Beau's complaints from last night played on my mind; though they had clearly been jokes, there was every chance that they had a degree of honesty to them as well, and whatever time she'd spent with him overnight surely couldn't have been enough. After the fifth time she guided him over a log by telling him where to put his feet instead of helping him over it physically, I stopped and turned on them with a heavy sigh.

"Just hold hands already," I insisted. "I won't break."

Beau looked startled by my outburst, before quickly shifting to a guilty expression. "We just didn't want to-"

"Upset me, I know." I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not stupid. Nor am I quite that fragile, Beau. Frankly, this whole careful distance thing you're doing is weirder. So just… be normal, okay?"

Edythe smirked, immediately closing the gap between them and sliding her hand into his. "I told you she would notice, my love."

I couldn't deny that the endearment falling from her lips made my chest tighten just a little. But I was pleased to find it didn't hurt nearly as much as I had expected. I'd always appreciated how happy Edythe made my brother, and it was some comfort to find that the feeling hadn't gone away. At least one of us was still on track for a happy ending.

"Much better," I said with an approving nod, and turned to continue the hike. Of course, it was proving much more difficult for me without my own guiding hand, but I miraculously avoided any major tumbles, only picking up one tiny scratch from the base of a broken-off twig that I didn't notice on a tree trunk until I caught myself against it.

After a few more hours of walking, Edythe stopped, letting me catch up and catching me with a hand on my shoulder as I went to pass her, prompting me to pause for a moment.

"The meadow is just through those trees up ahead," she explained gently. "Do you want us to come with you, or would you rather be alone?"

Alone. I'd been feeling so alone for so long. Even with Beau … even with Jules… there was always a sense of distance between me and everyone else around me. I had already acknowledged and accepted the fact that most of my friends had abandoned me, unwilling to deal with the headcase I had become – and honestly, I couldn't blame them. Right now, part of me wanted to ask Edythe to stay back, just in case… well, it was more than just a possibility that I would completely go to pieces once I was in the meadow. But after all this time, I didn't want to be alone anymore.

I took her hand from my shoulder and clung to it, then reached out my other hand to my brother. "Will you come with me?"

Beau moved around Edythe without hesitation to take my outstretched hand. "Always, sis."

Slowly, cautiously, feeling as if I were braced for some kind of impact, I moved forward with the two of them flanking me, through the last line of trees and into the space beyond.

It was the place I remembered, but it wasn't the same as the last time I was here. For one, all the wildflowers had obviously died off in the winter chill and hadn't regrown yet. Only grass carpeted the ground, pale green and wafting in the breeze at about ankle height. The sun wasn't shining bright and golden this time, and in the dull shade of a typical grey Forks day, the meadow was completely stripped of the magic it had held before. Or perhaps the magic hadn't been in the sun, but in him, and now, being here without him, the whole place was nothing more than a black-and-white photograph of my memory. Worse than that, the hopes I'd somehow clung to – even knowing how unlikely it was that the memories held in this little clearing wouldn't be painful – were dashed almost instantly. The pain was the same here as it was everywhere, nothing but agony and emptiness in my chest.

I sucked in a sharp breath that didn't feel like it went anywhere and crumbled into a ball on the floor. Edythe let me go, and Beau made no sign of surprise or distress, simply kneeling down beside me and wrapping his arms around me tightly. I was suddenly glad I had come with them and not stumbled upon this place with Jules. She wouldn't have understood why I was reacting this way, why I now wanted to leave as soon as possible after all the effort we'd made to get here. But my brother understood, as much as anyone could possibly understand. As soon as I could get the words out, he would lead me away without a second thought. I let him help me hold myself together, let him murmur the soothing words I couldn't hear as the pain consumed me. Though I didn't cry, I still couldn't catch my breath; shallow, hitched inhales and exhales were all I could manage. It was yet another moment where I wasn't sure how much time passed, as I tried to find the strength to get back on my feet and ask to go home.

It was much harder than it should have been.

"Stand up," Edythe suddenly hissed, her hard, insistent voice breaking through the veil that the despair had cast over my mind.

"What-" Beau started to say, but she cut him off sharply in an abrupt, almost harsh tone that I had never heard her use with him.

"We aren't alone."

The aching in my chest was nearly overshadowed by a bone-deep terror. I fumbled clumsily to my feet, leaning heavily on Beau and clinging to his arm even after we were both upright. He took my hand firmly and gave it a reassuring squeeze. My eyes darted all around the edge of the meadow – as if I had any hope of catching sight of whoever was coming before they emerged.

In the end, I didn't even see him appear. In the space of a blink, he was there, a curious, wary expression on his familiar dark face, framed by instantly recognisable thick black dreadlocks.

"Laurent," I burst out, startled by his sudden arrival. It had been many months since I had seen this particular vampire. He had been one of the three nomads who stumbled upon our thunderstorm baseball game last March. My left hand tensed into a fist on instinct, the raised line of my bite scar pressing against my knuckles; it had been one of Laurent's companions, the vicious and sadistic James, who had given it to me. Laurent hadn't been involved in the mad chase that had followed our first meeting, more afraid of the large, powerful group protecting me than he was of James. Instead, he had headed north, to the other family of vampires who had given up human blood like they had. With recognition came surprise, the new emotions battling for space against the others; though the fear eased slightly, it was not banished completely, yet I couldn't quite figure out why.

"Bella," he replied, my name a slow drawl in his velvet smooth, subtly accented voice. "And Edythe, and Beau. What a surprise."

I felt an odd rush of something like pleasure at the fact he remembered my name. Beau, by contrast, was clutching my hand tightly, and when I glanced up, I saw his jaw was tense and his eyes steely.

"I was going to say the same thing." Edythe was cool and calm, almost bordering on frosty in her attitude towards him. "After all, we do live here. It is your presence that is rather more unusual."

Laurent tilted his head slightly to the side, a curious expression on his face even as he kept his tone bland and casual. "Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood. I stopped by the house, but… well, it all looks very abandoned. Shuttered windows, locked doors." His head turned to the other side, and I felt fear taking over again at the subtle menace in the movement. "Very much like you have moved on. Or did they leave you behind to look after the human pets? I would have thought you would prefer to take them with you."

Edythe didn't answer; the tension was practically rolling off her in waves, and her stance was unmistakably defensive, ready for a fight at any moment. I couldn't help wondering why. If Laurent had been living with the other vegetarians, surely he must be one of them by now. But when I looked at his eyes, I finally realised why my fear hadn't fully gone away, why my brother still looked tense, why Edythe was so clearly prepared for battle.

His eyes were not the butterscotch gold I had expected to see, nor even the darker brown shade that would suggest he was a long time between feeds.

They were a deep burgundy red.

Instinctually, I took half a step back, and those eyes flashed from Edythe to me, registering the movement, then returned to her as she shifted just slightly towards him.

"Stay still," the beautiful, familiar voice of my delusion whispered in my ear.

I couldn't control the way I started just the tiniest bit at hearing his voice so suddenly. But, after a split second of thought, it made sense. He came to me in times of danger, after all. I could think of only one time I had been in worse danger than this. I tried to do as he told me, though every part of me wanted to shake violently in terror.

Beau found his voice before anyone else, and though even I could hear how it trembled, he sounded remarkably sure of himself. "We couldn't go with them. Our dad would have had too many questions. But the Cullens had to go. People in town were getting suspicious. They visit all the time though, as you can see." He gestured to Edythe, the movement abrupt and jerky.

"Really?" Laurent was still analysing all of us closely. "It smelt like no one had been there in a long time."

"Help him," the voice hissed urgently. "He might not seem like such a terrible liar if you back him up."

"Oh, they don't usually stay long," I piped up obediently, trying to sound flippant. "Just a few hours at a time. Or they come and stay with us. Edythe's on my bedroom floor this weekend." Not technically a lie, perhaps that would make it easier to get him to believe.

Apparently, the voice disagreed, a weary sigh echoing through my head. "On second thoughts, perhaps quiet is better."

At last, Edythe joined in again, and I couldn't help feeling a bit relieved; she was a much better liar than either of us. "Yes, sadly, it's only me this time. Carine will be sorry to have missed you."

Laurent nodded slowly, just the hint of a smile curving up the side of his mouth. "Indeed. Pass on my regrets. It would have been good to see her again."

"Of course. I'll make sure my brother is out of earshot though," Edythe went on, her own exasperated smile appearing. "Edward still gets so testy when we bring up James. His temper is just as bad as it ever was, isn't it, Bella?" She rolled her eyes at me, as if we were in on some private joke, all the while keeping her face halfway turned toward Laurent so that he stayed in the corner of her vision.

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled shakily, cursing myself for ruining her bluff but unable to help it; a sharp stab had gone through my chest as she said his name, the first time I had heard it since they left, and I was still reeling from it. But of course, she couldn't avoid saying it now; it would have looked more suspicious not to.

Laurent began ambling across the grass casually, acting as if he were merely surveying the meadow. Yet even in my agonised state, I could see that his movements were bringing him closer to us, and panic started rising in my throat. The voice in my head was snarling viciously.

"How was Alaska?" I blurted out; the voice got louder, angry at me for stupidly drawing attention to myself, but I persevered. "Did you ever find Tanya?"

That made Laurent pause, his smile growing wider. "I did. They have all been very kind to me. Ivan was especially… welcoming." Just as I thought he might have been distracted, he began his slow walk again, still creeping ever closer to us. "It's certainly interesting to stay in one place for so long, but I must confess, I am finding the dietary requirements somewhat restrictive." He looked deeply regretful, yet I had a sinking suspicion it was all for show.

"It is a strenuous life to live," Edythe agreed, shifting subtly back and forth as he continued walking so she was always between him and us. "We've all had our slip ups over the years. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it with some more practice."

"That's very kind of you to say, Edythe," Laurent replied, a wicked edge creeping into his smile. "But in my case, I'm afraid to say it isn't really a case of slipping up, and more… well, to put it bluntly, I cheat."

I felt like I'd just had a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. The eyes had been the hint, and his words confirmed it – Laurent was no vegetarian, and never intended to be, so he was definitely no friend to us.

"Stay absolutely still," my angry angel insisted. "Don't move, don't speak. Let Edythe handle this."

I could only obey.

When she spoke again, Edythe's voice had lost any pretence of being friendly. "So it's you we have to thank for all the hikers going missing recently. I should have guessed it was one of our kind."

"Yes, I have been getting rather peckish while completing my little mission." Laurent chuckled, moving forward more openly now. "I suppose I should have known better. A small place like this, even one missing person becomes suspicious. Terribly careless of me, I must apologise."

"Mission?" Edythe growled, ignoring the rest of his comment. "What mission would that be?"

"Oh my dear, can't you guess?" His smile was turning nasty, and I didn't like it at all. "Who do you think would ask me to come here, of all places in the world? Who could possibly have any interest in this sodden little town or might want to check whether there were still vampires in residence?"

There was only one person I knew that fit the bill, only one other person I was even aware Laurent knew – the third member of his former trio, James' partner in crime who'd helped him hunt me by stalking Charlie and following my scent around town to gather intel. Clearly, Beau's mind had followed the same logic as mine, and we said the name together.

"Victoria."

Laurent almost looked pleased. "Yes, that's right. I'll give you this, Edythe, they are clever little things. She tracked me down and asked me for a favour, and since I needed a little time to myself anyway, I happily obliged." The growling in my head was getting steadily louder, making it hard to hear him clearly. "She wants to know if you are still here keeping watch over Bella. I think she will be pleased when I tell her you are not, although I believe I may have to disappoint her somewhat."

"How so?" Edythe snapped, but he acted like she hadn't even spoken, taking another step forward. On instinct, I stepped back, tugging on Beau's arm when he didn't move.

"Stay. Still!" the voice in my head snarled. I wondered why he bothered; Laurent's focus would not be drawn away from me now, no matter what I did.

"She has plans, you see," Laurent continued. "She's ever so put out over what your Edward did to James, and I'm sure you know as well as I do how determined we vampires can be when we have vengeance on our minds."

Again, his name pulled painfully at the rough edges of the wound in my chest, though the feeling was almost chased away by what Edythe said next.

"My brother has been tracking her for months. If she wanted her revenge, all she had to do was turn around and face him."

Before I had a chance to process what on earth that could mean, Laurent was talking again, giving a deceptively casual shrug. "I don't particularly understand it either, but she has a different kind of payback in mind. That old 'an eye for an eye' idea, you see? But in this case, a mate for a mate. He killed James, so she will kill Bella, and he will know the pain she has felt." He pursed his lips and looked regretfully at me. "Then again, if he left you here all by yourself, perhaps you don't mean so much to him after all. So it will not be so bad if I kill you instead, since it will not be the revenge she expected."

"She isn't alone today," Edythe snarled, dropping into a crouch and clearly ready to spring. "You won't get to her so easily."

Laurent gave her a look somewhere between disappointment and reproach. "Now, now, Edythe, no need for that. It is only us here, after all. None of your odd little coven are coming to back you up. Do you really think you can keep both of them safe? I don't particularly care which I get, you see. I wasn't looking for Bella today, only hunting, and stumbling on you all has been nothing more than a fortunate coincidence. This is only thirst, nothing personal, and I'll take him if I can't have her. Or both. But then again, I'm not that thirsty today." He held out a hand, as if offering her a gift. "Shall we make a deal? Take your boy and leave, and I will not trouble Forks any longer. You will never have to lay eyes on me again. And all it will cost you is one small, insignificant life."

"You know I can't do that." Edythe's voice was deadly and barely discernible as she bared her teeth at him, the most ferocious expression I had ever seen on her face. I had given up trying not to shake, and my brother looked like he was about to pass out.

Either very confident in his abilities or very foolish indeed, Laurent persisted. "I assure you, I will make it quick and painless. She will not suffer, as she would at Victoria's hands. My old friend will find Bella eventually, with or without me – believe me, you would all be thanking me for this if you only knew what she has planned."

Edythe's only answer was a menacing step forward.

"So be it," Laurent sighed, falling into his own crouch, his lips beginning to pull back in a snarl to answer Edythe's.

I didn't want to watch this. I'd never actually seen two vampires fighting, having been completely out of it when the Cullens battled James in the ballet studio. I'd certainly never seen one die, and I didn't want Edythe to be the first I witnessed. Still, I couldn't close my eyes completely, only squinting them mostly shut as I recoiled from the brawl about to begin, not to mention the enraged roar of Edward's voice in my head. After so many months of holding it back, his name crashed through the walls in my mind like a wrecking ball, and suddenly it was repeating on a loop. Edward, Edward, Edward. I love you, I'm sorry, Edward. His sister was going to die because of me, and then I would be killed too; thinking of him wasn't going to do me any harm now.

As I waited for one of them to make the first move, tension thrumming up and down my spine, Laurent's head suddenly whipped to one side, his eyes widening almost cartoonishly.

"Impossible," he breathed, the sound just barely loud enough for me to hear.

I half-expected Edythe to take advantage of his distraction and spring at him, but she too was fixated on something beyond the treeline that my eyes were too weak to see, no matter how I strained in the same direction they were both looking.

"I don't believe it," she murmured, low and incredulous. She almost seemed to have forgotten Laurent was there; when I glanced at him again, he was rapidly backing away towards the trees on the far side of the meadow, an expression of utter terror spreading across his face.

Before I could pluck up the courage to ask what was coming now, it slowly emerged from the treeline. I was instantly reminded of the dark shapes I had been doodling in my journal the other day, as the creature at first seemed formless and made of shadows, detaching itself from the gloom of the forest without a sound. As it moved further into the space, making a deliberate and obvious beeline for the retreating vampire, the shape resolved itself into an enormous animal with thick, shaggy black fur, carried forward on four thickly muscled legs, a long tail wafting menacingly just above the top of the grass behind it. Its black eyes glittered dangerously amongst the fur of its face, its pointed ears were flat against its skull, and the long muzzle at the front of its head parted to reveal a row of gleaming teeth as sharp as knives as it let loose a horrifying, earth-shaking snarl.

This had to be the rampaging bear everyone had been so worried about. I could easily see how this beast could be mistaken for a big black bear or grizzly – what else living in these woods could possibly be so large and powerfully built? Yet seeing it close up, it was obvious that the shape wasn't right for a bear at all. Its ears, muzzle, and tail were all distinctly canine… lupine. But surely it couldn't be a wolf? They couldn't possibly grow this big; the animal before me had to be as tall as a horse, the thick bands of muscle making it look even larger. Gauging its true size wasn't hard, since it was barely ten feet away from us.

"What the hell?" Beau whispered, finally stumbling back to stand beside me. Edythe backed up as well, so that she was right in front of us again, her protective stance shifting, ready to combat whichever threat came at us first.

But Laurent wasn't paying any attention to us anymore; all his focus was on the wolf. I couldn't understand why he was so afraid of it. As large as it was, it was only an animal, and if there was one thing I could be sure of, it was that no animal was a match for a vampire. The Cullens proved that fairly conclusively; they regularly tussled with mountain lions and grizzly bears, for crying out loud.

But the voice in my head was just as frightened and just as fervent as it whispered, "Don't move a muscle."

Moments later, I comprehended their fear. Two more gigantic wolves, one silvery grey and one deep brown, not quite as large as the black monster but certainly taller than me, stalked forward out of the trees, coming to a stop at the leader's flanks. Before I had time to adjust to the shock of their presence, another two joined them, falling into place in a wide V formation. The wolf farthest from us was grey with darker patches across its back; I barely registered its presence, as the beast on the other side of the group was inches in front of Edythe, almost close enough for me to reach around her and touch its rusty brown coat. This wolf was only as tall as me, thinner than the others, with a lithe, almost fox-like shape, but I could clearly see the power in every one of its movements as it stalked into position.

As if it could sense my eyes on it, the russet wolf turned its head in our direction. Its dark eyes were deep, like black holes, and had an odd, unexpected intelligence that I hadn't ever imagined it was possible to see from an animal. The black wolf barked sharply and the red one's attention snapped back to Laurent, leaving me puzzling over the strange look with the one tiny part of my brain not consumed by terror.

In a vain effort to gain some composure, I found myself analysing the chances of survival – slim to none, I realised quickly. Even if Laurent took out a few of them and Edythe dispatched a few more, at least one would most likely break through to my twin and me. I hoped they would see that I was the obvious weakest target and give Beau a chance to run; once again, I was glad Jules wasn't with us, that her life wasn't at risk the way that ours most certainly were.

There was a moment where everything seemed frozen in time. I wasn't breathing, and it felt as if even the wind in the trees had ceased, the whole forest standing still and waiting to see what would happen next.

It was Laurent who broke the stillness. Without so much as a backwards glance at the three of us, he whirled around, his dreadlocks flying out in a wide arc behind him, and vanished into the woods.

He ran away?

The wolves bounded after him immediately, all five moving in sync, disappearing in a flurry of fur far faster than I would have thought possible. The deafening sounds of their furious growls, thudding footfalls and snapping teeth faded away remarkably quickly, the forest returning to silence and the thick foliage giving no sign that they had ever been there beyond a few patches of crushed grass just in front of us; despite their size, they had barely even rustled the leaves.

For the second time this afternoon, my knees gave way, and I dropped to the floor like a stone. Beau was right there with me, though not to comfort this time; he looked as shell-shocked as I did, both of us gasping for air and shaking like leaves. Edythe quickly turned and crouched beside my brother, gathering him into her arms and murmuring soothing words in his ear. I felt the ache of loneliness, mitigated only by the vice-like grip Beau kept on my hand.

"We have to go," I finally choked out. "When Laurent comes back…"

"Laurent isn't coming back," Edythe said flatly, her expression hard.

I frowned at her, unable to help how incredulous I sounded. "Of course he is. I mean, those… things are big and there's a lot of them, but they're only animals, right? He'll have no issue getting rid of them."

"That's the problem. They aren't just animals." She stood up, hauling Beau to his feet and making sure he was steady before gently helping me up, too. "Still, you are right. We shouldn't linger here. Can you walk alright? I can try to carry both of you, but it will be cumbersome at best."

"We're fine," we both said together.

Neither of us sounded fine at all, but Edythe only nodded and began leading the way quickly back through the undergrowth, thankfully in the opposite direction to the one that the wolves and Laurent had run. She kept a tight hold on one of each of our hands, and her icy touch grounded me somewhat. Still, I was starting at shadows and letting out small screams at every sound that broke the hush of the woods. Edythe shushed me every time but, to her credit, never grew impatient with me, nor did she seem frustrated by the relatively slow progress we were making. As we walked, my mind spun, trying and failing to make everything I had seen fit together and make sense.

A vampire should not have been so terrified of a pack of wolves, no matter how big they were. But Laurent's fear had been plain to see, and even Edythe had been wary of them.

On top of that, no animal, even one that could clearly outpace and out-muscle anything else it might come across in the woods, should have chosen a walking corpse made of what was essentially cold stone over two soft, warm, and inviting morsels like my brother and I. Pursuing Laurent should not have even crossed their minds, and yet, apart from the red wolf's momentary distraction, all of them had been laser-focused on him from the moment they entered the meadow.

And what on earth did Edythe mean when she said they weren't just animals? What else could they possibly be? I wanted to ask her, but she was moving as fast as we could keep up with and I didn't have enough breath left over to speak.

By the time we made it back to the trailhead and the truck, the light was fading from the day. Beau handed Edythe the keys without her having to even say a word, boosting me up into the cab ahead of him so that I ended up in the middle of the bench seat. I almost protested – surely he wanted to be by her – but he didn't give me a chance, clambering in behind me as Edythe turned the key in the ignition. Something about the familiar warmth of the truck's interior and the roar of the engine made me finally feel safe and released the tension that had been strung tighter than a rubber band stretched to its limits. Tears welled up and overflowed from my eyes and I broke down into heavy sobs. Beau pulled me firmly into his arms, holding me tightly and pressing occasional kisses on the top of my head, but didn't speak. I wouldn't have heard him, anyway; I was barely even aware that we were moving, though the increased whine from the engine told me that Edythe was pushing the truck's limits. The memory of Edward doing the same thing stung, but I was surprised to find that I could still bear the ache of thinking his name, though his voice had long since deserted me.

It was Beau who finally broke the silence. "So, are we going to talk about what just happened?"

"I suppose we must," Edythe said, sighing heavily. "Though sharing the truth will get me into a world of trouble."

"Really?" Beau looked perplexed. "After everything we already know, you're worried about this?"

"Are those things really that dangerous?" I chimed in, wiping away my tears and sitting up a little straighter.

"I don't believe they would ever hurt you," Edythe admitted, but she didn't look entirely sure that she was right. "But for me, for my family, they are a danger, at least as great as the Volturi, if not greater. Certainly more of an immediate threat."

"Have you seen them before?" Beau asked.

She nodded. "Not these specific individuals, but yes, I have encountered creatures like them. It was about seventy years ago now, and there were only three back then." Her expression darkened. "I worry about there being so many of them now, what it might mean for us."

Seventy years ago… something about those words sparked my memory, but I couldn't seem to bring it back into my mind all the way; I was still reeling from what I had seen in the meadow, and it was making my whole brain sluggish.

"What exactly are they?" Beau said, no longer beating around the bush.

"There are a lot of words that could apply, but I believe the one that they prefer is werewolves."

In a flash, the pieces connected. It felt as if I were transported back in time, to a rare sunny day, light wind brushing across my skin as I sat on the hood of the truck in the little parking lot overlooking First Beach, listening to Jules tell me the story that had changed my life. It was the story that told me that vampires were real, that the strange Cullen siblings were, in fact, more than human, as I'd always suspected. But it had been only half of the story. Jules' playful, teasing voice echoed in my head now as I remembered.

Legend has it, some of our ancestors had the ability to turn themselves into wolves in order to protect the tribe. I suppose you pale faces would call them werewolves.

"The Quileutes," I breathed.

"Precisely," Edythe said, her face and voice both grim.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Beau held up both hands like he was stopping traffic. "Seriously? There really are werewolves in La Push?"

"You knew the one part of the story was true, my love," Edythe pointed out. "Is it so unreasonable to believe that all of it is?"

He frowned deeply. "I guess not. Still kind of weird, though. I mean, who even are they? Jules said one of the old ones was her great-grandfather, but who's running the show now?"

"We can't be sure." Edythe looked annoyed. "Honestly, we thought they had all died out already. Carine got in touch with Mrs Black to let her know we were coming back, assuming that some element of the stories had been passed down through Ephraim's family, but we weren't expecting to find actual wolves. We weren't aware they had resurfaced before we left, and we have no way of knowing who they are under the fur."

Now I was the one frowning, because I had a feeling I might know just that. After all, there was only one group of people down at La Push who seemed to buy into the old legends, other than Bonnie. There was only one group who claimed to be the tribe's protectors but kept themselves distant and apart from the others, walking around like they had power and eyeing up certain teenage boys like they were waiting for something. There was only one group who knew that the Cullens weren't allowed to go on the reservation, who had eyed Edythe with hostility when they were at our house in September, who had been up on the cliffs celebrating that night after hearing that the family had left.

I was almost certain that under the fur and teeth and claws, those wolves were Sam and his gang.

It was the 'almost' part that made me hold my tongue and not give voice to my suspicions. I knew I should say something, but I wasn't sure what Edythe would do with the information. Would she want to confront them? Would she want confirmation that they had got rid of Laurent, or was her suspicion enough? And if she went to see them or tried to set up some kind of meeting, what would their reaction be? I vaguely remembered that the Cullens and the old pack had some kind of peace agreement; would that be honoured by the new generation? Would they try to take advantage of the fact that she was the only member of her family here at the moment? Would she be the next vampire they were chasing through the woods, intent on ripping her apart?

The last thought sent a shiver down my spine. No, I wouldn't say anything. But that didn't mean I couldn't do anything. I had no idea where Sam lived, but Jules would know. I wasn't sure how I could explain it to her – after all, the truth was much more likely to come out if I started poking around. Could I find a way to let her know about the potential danger without giving anything else away? Perhaps I could say I just wanted to talk to him and needed directions. No, there would be too many questions; that might have worked back in September, when I could have played it off as wanting to thank him for helping me. I could try that now, but she was bound to wonder why I was bothering so many months later.

Planning all this out, even without a solution, had the effect of making me surprisingly calm. The senseless, directionless panic was fading, and though I was certain it would be back at some point, I was grateful for the reprieve, no matter how temporary. It meant I could focus when Beau broke the long silence.

"So what do we do?"

Edythe's face was grave. "We trust that the wolves succeeded in catching up to Laurent and that he is no longer a problem. It may be that they wish to speak to me now that they know I am back, or perhaps they won't. Our focus now needs to be on keeping you two safe from whatever comes our way next."

"But if they do manage to kill him…" Beau was frowning. "That's the end of it, right? He can't report back to Victoria."

"Doesn't mean she's not a threat," I said, impressing even myself with how collected I sounded. "It's only a matter of time before she comes to check on me herself."

"Precisely." Edythe nodded. "I'm going to need to find an excuse to extend my stay, which the pack probably won't like very much. But there is no way I am leaving you unprotected now."

There wasn't much else to say to that; Beau and I both nodded once and silence descended again. We weren't far from home now, just a few streets away. It was getting dark, much later in the day than I had realised, and I started to worry that Charlie would catch us coming in. But the cruiser was conspicuously absent as Edythe parked the truck in its usual spot on the curb. We got out and went into the house without a word; Beau unpacked the lunch we had never got around to eating, and though I took my portion and ate with him, I didn't taste any of it. Edythe spent the time tapping away on her phone, her frown getting deeper by the minute.

"Everything okay?" Beau asked, gathering up our trash and staying beside her once he'd thrown it out, pulling her into a one-armed hug and running his hand up and down her arm soothingly.

She laid her head against his shoulder, seemingly unconscious of the movement. "That depends entirely on who you ask."

"Well, I'm asking you," he pressed, gentle but insistent. "So, tell me what's wrong, please."

I wasn't sure why I expected her to resist, to tell him not to worry – probably because that was what I had always been told. But Beau and Edythe didn't have that kind of relationship, and so it shouldn't have surprised me when she was instantly and completely honest.

"I've let the family know what's going on, of course. Carine just says to watch and wait and keep them informed."

Beau frowned deeply. "They're not coming? They're going to leave us to deal with this all on our own?"

She looked up at him with sad, pleading eyes. "Don't see it that way, my love."

"What other way can I see it?" He was abruptly thunderously angry, pulling away from her to pace the kitchen. "If you're telling them everything, then they should be on the first plane out here. I mean, it's Victoria, for crying out loud. If that doesn't justify calling in the cavalry, I don't know what does."

Edythe sighed heavily and looked down at her shoes. "I don't disagree with you, Beau, but you must see that there are other factors at play. Victoria isn't actually here, and we have no proof beyond Laurent's word that she is coming."

"You don't believe him?" Beau asked incredulously.

"I do."

"But they don't." This wasn't a question, and the hostility with which it was delivered surprised me; Beau had never, to my knowledge, been truly angry with any of the Cullens. Well, maybe that one night… but that was hazy and hard to remember right now.

"They are being cautious. Carine is worried about trouble with the wolves if we all suddenly show back up in town, not to mention the stories that will have to be spun to explain another sudden move, both here and in Ithaca. They can't simply disappear without an explanation."

"They did here," he pointed out waspishly. "Here they didn't seem to care, so what makes Ithaca so special?"

It felt like I'd been slapped in the face. Beau was really furious, in a way I had never seen him before, and I couldn't fathom why. Didn't he realise they needed a good reason to move on from a place? What did any of them care that Victoria might be coming back to Forks, even if she did have murderous intent? I wasn't their problem anymore; they didn't need to waste their time protecting me. It was like Laurent had said – if only Victoria were aware of how little I mattered, I might not even be in danger.

Edythe looked unhappy, but she was still calm as she answered Beau. "Nothing, of course. But we don't typically go back to places we've lived in, not while people who knew us before might still be around. There's a reason it took us seventy years to return to the Olympic Peninsula, and we weren't in Forks last time we were here. Even something like this, me visiting for a weekend, it's uncharted territory. There isn't any precedent for it because we've never had anything tying us to our former homes before. Besides all that…" She gave him a stern look as he seemed to be about to start arguing again, and he backed off slightly, quietly seething as she continued. "As I said before, there are no guarantees. We don't know if the wolves dealt with Laurent, we don't know if Victoria is coming back, and we don't have any idea when one of them will try to strike. If there was some kind of timeline, they might be more inclined to help, but there are just too many unknowns."

This was the final straw for Beau; he exploded, rage unlike anything I had thought him capable of echoing in every syllable. "A psychopathic vampire wants to kill my sister! I don't give a damn whether it's easy or convenient for them, I want them here, helping to fix the mess they made! They owe her that much!"

I couldn't listen to this anymore; I'd started crying again without noticing when it had happened, and I could see tears streaming down my brother's cheeks as well. Stumbling and almost tripping in my haste, I leapt out of my chair and grabbed Beau in the best hug I could manage.

"Stop!" I croaked, my throat thick. "Stop fighting! It's not her fault, it's… it's…"

I wanted to say, 'It's mine,' but the words refused to come out, lost in heaving sobs as I broke down for the third time today.

Beau held me so tightly I was sure my ribs were going to crack, understanding what I couldn't say. "This is not on you," he whispered, his voice fierce and hoarse. "This is them, this is him. None of this would be happening if not for him."

I shook my head against his chest, not able to find the words to tell him he was wrong. If I had only been strong enough, brave enough, careful enough, just enough…

Edythe interrupted my train of thought. "I agree with you entirely, my love. Unfortunately, it changes nothing. If I could make them come, I would, and I have not given up on convincing them. But until I do, I am afraid you are going to have to make do with just me. I am not going anywhere, not until this is settled. We will find a solution, this I promise you. Bella…" She locked eyes with me as I turned my head to look at her. "No one is going to hurt you."

Her expression was one of determination, the sort that was impossible to doubt. I knew she meant what she was saying; I could only hope that it was in her power to see it through.

"So, what do we do now?" Beau asked, his voice now heartbreakingly bleak.

"As Carine suggested, we wait and watch." Edythe was all business now. "It's frustrating, I know, but we don't really have another option. I think it goes without saying that we cannot let your father find out about any of this." She waited for both of us to nod before going on. "So let that be your focus. Keep things normal for Charlie and go about your lives as best as you can. We react to any new threat as it arises, because there isn't much we can proactively do to prepare for them. I can ask Alice to keep an eye out, but she may not see anything, or be able to give us much warning."

It wasn't an encouraging plan; I knew I would be in a state of constant tension until something new happened, and to not have a timeline was sure to drive me crazy. But Edythe was right – there was nothing we could do but try to go on as normally as possible.

Although we had just eaten, it was getting on for dinner time and Charlie would want feeding when he got back. I cooked, while Beau and Edythe retreated to the living room and turned on the TV. I appreciated the solitude; it gave me time to get myself together, to squish some of the panic that was still trying to wrestle its way up my throat at the thought of Laurent or Victoria coming after me. Not to mention that I was no closer to working out how I could get in touch with Sam without making Jules suspicious, and I needed the space to think about that. It also helped to let just a little of the agony that I had been holding at bay finally ripple through me. There had been too many memories today, too many sudden mentions of people I hadn't thought about in too long. I hadn't had any time to prepare, to condition myself to the thoughts of them, and now all of it was rolling through my mind, prickling like a ball of barbed wire and threatening to rip me open. If I was careful, though, if I handled it gently, I might be able to keep from getting too badly cut. It was better, I finally realised, that they weren't coming back – I couldn't handle them all being here, not yet.

By the time Charlie came clattering in through the front door, I was no closer to sorting out the mental maelstrom, but I was outwardly calm as I worked on the final few stages of spaghetti and meatballs.

"Kiddos?" Charlie hollered. "You down here?"

"Kitchen!" I called back; a second later, Beau's cry of, "Living room!" echoed down the hall.

Charlie chose to come to me, although it probably had more to do with needing to wash his hands than anything else.

"Did you guys have a good day?" he asked as he scrubbed.

A sudden rush of panic hit me as I realised we'd never agreed on a cover story. Hoping Edythe was paying attention, I squashed the fear that threatened to unravel everything and focused on the pot in front of me as I took the initiative to make it up myself. "Yeah, we ended up heading down to Hoquiam. There were a couple of nice places I spotted when I went there with Jules a while back that I wanted to show Edythe. How about you?" Deflect, deflect, deflect – that was always the best way to keep my lies from getting spotted. "Catch anything good?"

"Just the usual." I heard the shift and creak of one of the kitchen chairs as he sat down. "Speaking of Jules, did you talk to her when you called earlier?"

I frowned, confused by the sudden subject change. "No, Bonnie said she'd gone out already, that she was with a bunch of her friends."

"Where did Bon say they were going?"

"Port Angeles, I think. Why?" I started dishing up the pasta, taking the opportunity to sneak a look at his face; he was frowning too, something like suspicion in his eyes.

"I saw her with a gang of other kids outside the general store on the reservation when I went to pick up Harry. I tried getting her attention, but she must not have seen me. Looked like she was arguing with them about something."

My spine stiffened automatically. His choice of words, 'gang' especially, set me on edge right away. Had Jules finally decided to confront Sam about what he was doing to her friends? Was I already too late to warn her about being careful with them?

"Did you recognise who she was with?" I asked, trying not to let my worry show in my voice.

"No, not off the top of my head. To be honest, I barely recognised Jules." He shook his head. "I've never seen her dressed like that, and she's cut her hair real short."

"Huh." I couldn't think of what else to say. A part of me wanted to try to talk to Charlie, to let out some of my fear, at least my worry about what might be going on with Jules and Sam. But Edythe's words were still ringing in my ears, and I knew I couldn't do anything that would risk my dad getting involved in something that might be seriously dangerous.

So instead I squared my shoulders, finished plating dinner, and asked him to set the table.

I didn't talk much over dinner, and neither did Beau, but Edythe filled the silence and kept Charlie talking to make our lack of engagement less noticeable. It was later than usual by the time we finished eating, so he didn't bat an eyelid when all of us said we were ready for bed not long after we were done. I caught Beau double checking the locks as I headed up the stairs, which struck me as a futile exercise; after all, what difference would a lock make to a vampire? The wolves might have trouble turning a handle, but if they were werewolves, then there was a good chance they could just turn back into people to get inside. I nearly called him out on it, then realised that I would have been doing exactly the same thing if he hadn't beaten me to it, and kept any snide comments to myself.

Up in my room, Edythe was carefully checking the window. I waited for her to slide it up and disappear into the night, either to join Beau or to check around the house. Those were the only two things I expected she would want to do tonight, so it was a surprise to me when she instead pressed the frame more firmly down and slid the lock across.

"Don't you need that open?" I asked, feeling like I was missing something. "In case you need to get out or get to Beau or something?"

She shook her head, a small, sad smile curving her lips. "I can move just as fast and as quietly through the house as I can around it. I've always used the windows before because they were convenient, but they aren't my only means of egress. Besides, I told Beau to keep his window locked too, so it would actually be harder for me to get in that way right now. And I don't plan on going anywhere tonight."

I frowned. "You don't have to do that. I'll be alright up here on my own."

That got me a look that I was very familiar with – a particular blend of disbelief, disapproval and just a hint of concern that many people had given me over the years, including both of our brothers.

"Bella, there are killers after you," Edythe explained, her tone somehow not coming off as condescending. "I appreciate that you're trying to be brave, but there is such a thing as taking it too far."

I didn't feel very brave, and that wasn't what I was trying to do. A depressing train of thought had been running through my mind, and given how much faster her brain worked than mine, I was surprised I had to spell it out for her. "Victoria already knows where the house is, and it wouldn't take Laurent long to follow my scent and find it. If they do that, chances are they would come at us from the forest, and unless they're good enough to pinpoint which one is my window, they'd come in through the back door. That puts them nearer to Beau, so you'd be better off down there keeping him safe."

Edythe was giving me a look I didn't fully understand. "And you think that is my first priority?"

"Isn't it?" I was supremely confused now. "He's your… well, he's yours. Don't you want to keep him safe?"

"Of course I do, but I also know he won't stand for me putting him before you." Now her expression was easy to read – reproach, gentle but firm. "The threat is on you right now, Bella. If I went downstairs, Beau would only send me straight back up to protect you."

I was beginning to feel desperate. "But then, who will protect him? And Charlie? Edythe, if something happens to them…"

She stepped forward, cutting me off and taking hold of my hands firmly. "I will. This house isn't so big or difficult to navigate that I can't get to any part of it in seconds. I will not let any of you be hurt." She squeezed my fingers, as if to punctuate her point, then dropped the severe frown in favour of a soft smile. "Now, you need to try to get some sleep. It won't help anyone for you to be running on fumes."

Although I was highly doubtful that sleep would even be possible, I was abruptly hit with a wave of weariness that made arguing with her feel like far too much effort. I climbed dutifully under the covers, and Edythe turned out the light; I heard tiny whispers of fabric as she presumably climbed into her own bed and wondered idly if she needed the comfort or if it was all for show. I didn't think about it for long, though. My mind was quickly taken over by a bone-deep terror that made my whole body shake violently. I curled into a tight little ball, trying to keep the tremors at bay, and pictured the best-case scenario as a vague attempt to calm myself. Edythe seemed confident that the wolves had dealt with Laurent, that he was no longer a threat. And if Victoria came, she would have to get through Edythe to get to me or any of my loved ones. They had faced off before and Victoria had very carefully kept out of Edythe's way – she must be at least a little afraid of her. Then again, Edythe hadn't been alone the last time.

Unbidden, the image of Victoria's face swam before my eyes in the darkness. I had only seen her once, and the memory was difficult to bring back, but it wasn't hard to conjure a beautiful pale face, framed by streams of wild red hair, like a fire blazing around her head. Her eyes would be deep black, full of frenzied hunger, her lips pulling back from a cruel smile into a snarl, a grimace, a hideous exposure of teeth…

I jammed a fist in my mouth to keep from screaming, but a small whimper leaked out and, of course, it could not go unnoticed by my roommate. A cold hand wormed its way under the covers, found mine, and curled our fingers together, holding firm.

"It's alright," her sweet voice whispered. "I'm here."

She started humming softly, a soothing classical melody that I didn't recognise. The déjà vu was sharp, but the pain got lost in the fear and ended up feeling less acute than usual.

I clung to Edythe's hand desperately, and eventually sheer exhaustion dragged me into unconsciousness.