And now the end is here
And so I face that final curtain
My friend I'll make it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
Frank Sinatra

Bella

A depressing, repugnant fact of life is that whatever you prepare for, something else will inevitably be thrown in your way. Something you weren't even thinking about, weren't even expecting.

I'd been at Jake's house for dinner when Billy brought the sad tidings. Sue Clearwater. She'd been ill but this was too sudden.

The world altered for the Clearwaters. Before and after would be how they'd measure the rest of their lives. Billy and Sarah stayed at their house; Harry was inconsolable.

"I'm so sorry, Leah," I whispered. I hugged her tightly and felt her tears drip onto my shoulder as she cried.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Mom wrote out what she wanted. I haven't been able to open it yet. Dad asked me to check it, but …" Leah trailed off, hiccoughing.

I opened the folder Leah indicated. Sue seemed to have written out these instructions when she'd first gotten sick; some of the pages had dates from years ago. The contents didn't make much sense to me—I'd never been to a funeral let alone organised one—but was sure I'd be able to help.

Between myself, Leah, and Sarah, we managed to arrange things. Seems those in the funeral business were used to people staring blankly at them so I didn't cause too many disruptions, thankfully, and the director was able to prompt me into everything we needed and understood Sue's directives better than I did.

The service was simple and poignant. Every seat was full; some people had to stand in the back. Seemed all of La Push and most of Forks showed up, Sue having been far-reaching in her kindness. I hoped the numbers were gratifying for the Clearwaters. The picture they'd chosen was a beautiful one. Not just of Sue, but of Harry, Leah, and Seth as well. She'd like that. Knowing the rest of her family was still together.

After the funeral was over, Billy, Charlie, Sam, a few of the elders and other close friends stayed behind with the Clearwaters to say the final goodbyes. Everyone walked over to my house in groups for the wake—nearby and larger than Harry's.

Working quickly, I organized all the food I'd made and bought earlier on the kitchen table, filled the coffee pot and started the kettle. I didn't have nearly enough dishes, I should've gotten more from Jake's house. Putting the stack of plates on the table, I set to work unwrapping and arranging everything. No one was eating yet, thankfully, still talking over the service and waiting for others to arrive. Arranging the trays was a balancing act and then I had to keep refilling and boiling the kettle again after pouring mugs of hot water since I didn't think to get a proper dispenser. Opening another packet of tea bags, I also put on more coffee; both disappearing quickly.

Bouquets that people had bought were slotted about wherever they would fit, same with more platters of food that some had helpfully contributed.

Unlatching the kitchen window, I opened it a crack to let some fresh air into the house. There weren't enough chairs … so many people had arrived and more still coming by. I started a sink of dishes and quickly dried them but it wasn't good enough. I needed more things; only a quarter of the people had a mug and there wasn't nearly as many dishes. The Clearwaters hadn't even arrived yet.

I found Jake and fetched his house keys.

"Do you want me to help?" he asked. His suit was too small, I noted sadly. A man now, not a boy.

"No, it's fine."

"Our wedding china is in a yellow packing box in the hall closet," Sarah told me. "Bring that. I think there might be a spare box in there too, for the rest of the dishes."

At their house, I found everything as she'd said. The tape took some time, in a kitchen cupboard, but I'd soon packed it up, and was about to stack the first box in the footwell of my truck—

A flick of red.

Victoria was on the beach cliffs, staring right at me.

Shit. Shit. Today of all days.

"You can't be here," I blurted before I remembered that the pack was in Forks. Still, they wouldn't like this.

Victoria didn't move. She wasn't hiding this time, clear between the trees, standing on the bald patch at the rocky ridge. She seemed like she was waiting.

I had to get back. But I also didn't want to leave while a vampire was on their land, especially when no one was here to defend it.

"You can't be here," I repeated. "You have to stay beyond the lake." I shifted the box in my hands and pointed so she would know where I was meant. We continued to stare at each other, unmoving.

After a moment, I put the box back on the front porch and started towards her. Maybe she wanted to talk. I hurried through the brush, snow cascading down as I disturbed the branches. I was wasting time; already it had taken me ten minutes to pick my way through the trees to get to where she was standing. She watched my approach, not fleeing but not coming closer either.

I stopped a yard from her. "Hello."

"Have you seen Riley?" she asked, speaking for the first time. Her voice was weirdly soft, almost from lack of use.

"I don't know a Riley."

"I've been everywhere."

"What does he look like?"

She described him and he did sound familiar, unfortunately. I knew it. I turned my palms slowly, flicking my shield out.

"Was he young? Did you sire him?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"A few months ago." Her eyes narrowed. She could tell I knew who she was talking about.

"Where did you find him?"

"In his house in the woods."

"What was the house like?" Maybe he was some kind of anti-civilisation anarchist. But I didn't find out because she wouldn't be deterred.

"You know where he is," she accused.

"He's … dead. He was killing people too visibly." An understatement.

Victoria stiffened. Her mouth turned down. "I didn't like him, in the end. We went separately. Something was wrong with him."

Also an understatement. "I'm sorry," I told her quietly, releasing my shield. Part of me wanted to comfort her somehow but realised she likely wouldn't interpret it as me trying to comforting if I took another step toward her.

"You said that before."

I couldn't tell what she meant by that. "Maybe you should go somewhere new."

"Somewhere with no werewolves?"

"Probably," I agreed. "This is their land. If you leave they won't attack."

Bluffing, but I doubted she knew they weren't here at this precise moment; she probably hadn't been on the cliff that long. Their scent would still be strong from the last practice patrol they'd run a few days ago and she would've crossed it to track mine from when I was here this morning.

"Why did those others keep you?" she asked. She looked me up and down, confused. She wouldn't be able to hear my heartbeat very well, even as close as we were. She'd likely seen me use my shield at some point while I was following her in the woods. Trying to work out what I was.

"They wanted to." It had been the case at the time. That was all that mattered to her.

"They didn't kill you." This also confounded her, the same as Laurent. Humans shouldn't know about vampires. "But they killed James."

"He deserved it."

That caused a reaction—she hissed ferociously, baring her teeth.

I stood my ground. Anything unexpected would make it more likely for her to run instead of fight. She vanished from my sight, thankfully. At least the werewolves wouldn't be provoked.

But I'd been wrong.

Pain splintered up my right side, my breath immediately whooshing out at the shock. She hadn't just run away, she'd collided into me.

I was falling, but then it was strange and slow.

Icy fire engulfed me. Brackish water rushed into my lungs and the burn in my chest tripled. I tried to take another breath but it was just more pain. My body wouldn't obey; every time I inhaled it was agony.

All I could see was a dark haze, the water too churned for me to guess which way was up. I flipped myself over and over, trying to find the surface but it all looked the same.

Some instinct told me to hold myself immobile, even as I wanted to keep thrashing in panic. I was quickly sinking—I thought it was down deeper into the ocean but then the greying brightness became more tangible and I knew that was the sky.

'You're going to be fine.'

Kicking made it grow sluggishly so I kept doing it, trying to force myself upwards. I added my shield, trying to get the flat of it to scoop me up faster.

Just when I couldn't handle it any more, I broke through the waves—dark spots popped into my eyes, obscuring the landscape, but receded as I stayed above the water. There was a pounding in my ears and I realised it was my wheezing breath.

With each inhale there was a stabbing ache in my side and lungs. Different to the hole in my chest. This was a new injury.

The beach was far. The cliff face was too steep for me to have any hope of climbing back up that way, even with my shield. Trembling and barely breathing; I'd lose my grip and hit my head and be worse off than I was now.

There was nothing for it but to get to the sand.

I couldn't feel my limbs in the freezing water but started paddling in the direction of the beach anyway. Flicking my hands, I tried to use the flat of my shield to propel me along again but I couldn't tell if it was working. Water bulged past me when I pulled my arms back but the beach didn't seem to be getting any closer. Was I stuck in a current? Swimming parallel to the beach was supposed to get you out of a current …

Aiming for the north corner, I kept slicing through the water, trying to keep my movements steady so I'd be able to tell if I was making any progress. The water swelled over my fingers with each dip, making me think my shield was working … wider than my handspan, it was sure to be strong enough to help me get to shore.

A huge wave swelled unexpectedly and dumped me over but mercifully, when I spluttered myself back to the surface, I saw it had brought me further in.

Flashes of stinging radiated over my skin when my frozen hands finally touched the sand—a relief and a torment. Dragging myself up the sandbank, I had to stop when I vomited up a bunch of seawater; the acid scourging my throat and tearing my side.

Shaky, I searched the skyline for Victoria but there was no sign of her. Not on the cliff, nor on the beach. Lurching over—and crying out from the pain, something was definitely broken—I couldn't spot her in the blustery waves either. She hadn't followed me, either to help or hinder. Maybe she'd left before she'd seen what had happened.

I delicately prodded the soreness at my side and heat spasmed across it, nearly making me vomit again. I still couldn't breathe right, even out of the water. Probably not a punctured lung but my ribs were cracked.

Trying to calm myself with shallow puffs wasn't working. I was just going to have to move. Crawling up the sand, I shuffled forward until I came to a bit of driftwood big enough to steady myself against as I wobbled to my feet.

Driving was even more tricky. Every small movement yanked at my injury, boiling pain splaying out. I had to use my left arm to steer and awkwardly reach across myself to pull the handbrake. Despite the agony, I drove slowly so I didn't have to make any sudden movements.

Almost no one was in Emergency but even then my lung issues meant I was seen first. I'd fallen from a great height—they took a bunch of X-rays, tested my vision and my breathing.

As soon as I had a moment, I asked one of the nurses at the counter if I could use the desk phone. If any remembered me from my last stint here, none made any comments about my frequent flyer status. Possibly they didn't recognise me when I looked like a drowned rat.

Sarah answered her cell on the first ring.

"I'm sorry," I told her, my voice hoarse and scratchy. "I'm at the hospital; I'm fine, nothing serious."

"Is everything okay?" she asked, alarmed.

"Yes, it's a long story," I said, eyeing the closest nurse. Her back was to me but she would be able to hear. "Jake and the others will need to go to the beach."

She understood what that meant. "I'll let them know. The wake is mostly over, everyone is heading home."

I groaned. "I'm sorry I left you guys to organise everything. Your china is still on your front step too, nothing got damaged."

"That's hardly what I'm worried about, Bella. Do you know when you're being released?"

"Not yet. But I don't think I need to stay overnight." I looked up at the nurse for confirmation but she didn't turn. She might not know anyway. "Is Charlie around? I need to talk to him."

Sarah passed him the phone. Snatches of words told me she was explaining where I'd been. "Charlie, I'm sorry. I'm still at the hospital, just waiting for some X-rays."

"Is anything broken?"

"I don't know yet. But I … fell wrong. I thought it best to get checked out."

My clothes dried, sandy and briny, while I waited. At least it was warmer in here, a nurse having brought me a prickly hospital blanket.

"Two of your ribs are fractured," the doctor said, showing me the images on the illuminator. "Your finger as well, but nothing else. You've got a black eye and split lip but they should clear up pretty quickly. You were very lucky."

Lucky—always brought to the brink of death and yet never dying. It seemed like I should take that as a sign … another sign of what I was meant to be. But all I felt right now was drained.

He patched me up, gave me some painkillers, and wrote a prescription for more.

Everything hurt. The medication took the edge off but not enough. It was hard to breathe and I had a panic attack in the truck, the feeling squeezing at my chest horribly familiar. I had to slump over for a long time before I could move.

I drove home, careening dangerously once more because my still sore limbs could barely control anything. I stomped on the brake and threw myself out of the cab, not even bothering to shut the door properly. All I wanted was to lie down, to pass out.

Inside, the kitchen light flicked on, though I was nowhere near the switch. Guiltily, I noticed that someone had cleaned up the majority of the kitchen things. All the flowers were gone too, taken back to the Clearwaters. Only the vague floral aroma remained.

"Bella?"

Alice—Alice was in the house.

I was immediately terrified. "What happened!?"

Alice was here; something had happened to the Cullens, to Edward—

"What happened? What happened to you?" Alice screeched. "How are you alive?"