"You're going to have to stare a little harder if you want it to explode," Emmett said, looking over Izzy's shoulder.
Izzy's head snapped up. She'd been too preoccupied with trying to sum up her current situation in an email to realize he'd entered the room.
"So who are you texting," Emmett asked as he sat down next to her. "Your adoring fans?"
Izzy sighed when she noticed a bandage on Emmett's face. She'd only been gone for half an hour. Just enough time to call Jake back and borrow a dog hair-free outfit. Why was it that things always went to hell in a handbasket the second she left the building?
"Jasper wasn't thrilled with having his shoulder examined," Emmett said, touching his cheek.
Izzy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It didn't take a genius to know that Jasper, who had spent the last several hours hiding under a bed, wouldn't be a huge fan of someone trying to give him a CT scan. The doctor wanted to give him a sedative first, but Esme wouldn't give her approval. Her sweet, shy son would never hurt anyone, right? Wrong.
"It looks pretty gnarly, but the doctor says I won't need stitches," Emmett said.
Emmett was the lucky one. Esme, the other person stupid enough to come between Jasper and the door was currently downstairs waiting for an X-ray. Meanwhile, Alice, who'd been smart enough to get out of the way, was trying to coax Jasper out of the janitor's closet. Izzy wasn't optimistic about her odds of success. If Jasper still cared about her he certainly wasn't showing it. He wasn't coming out until he was good and ready.
"He didn't mean to hurt us," Emmett said.
No one doubted that. Not Esme, Alice, or the nurses. Anyone with half a brain could see that Jasper was struggling. .
"I know," Izzy said. "He was just scared."
Izzy wondered if Jasper would be more comfortable staying in the hotel. Maybe he'd start speaking if he had a quiet place to rest.
Izzy's phone chirped. It was a news notification. She immediately dismissed it. She knew what the article would say. Something ridiculous along the lines of "Swan flies the nest for cult!"
"So who are you texting," Emmett said, peering at Izzy's phone.
"None of your business," Izzy said, angling the phone away from Emmett.
While she loved seeing her friends every day, living in a house with so many people came with a price. For Izzy, that price was her privacy. Showers were often interrupted by someone coming in to brush their teeth. Izzy's bed had been stolen countless times by Jake when he was too tired to climb the extra few feet to his bed. Izzy's clothes were pilfered by those too lazy to do laundry. Her books had long ago become communal property. Izzy put up with all those things, but her phone was where she drew the line.
"Is it your secret lover?" Emmett asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
One of Edward's monitors chirped. Hadn't Emmett learned by now that just because Edward's eyes were closed didn't mean he was sleeping?
"No," Izzy said.
"Then who is it?" Emmett asked.
Izzy let out a long breath. Maybe it was easier to just throw Emmett a bone.
"I'm not texting, I'm emailing my World Religions professor," Izzy replied.
Or trying to email. Thus far she'd only managed to type out the words "Dear Professor."
What should come after that was unclear. Izzy was probably the first student in history to miss an exam because her assumed dead friends turned up in a cult.
"You're in college?" Emmett asked.
Izzy instinctually bristled. "Yes, so what?"
Most of her friends thought it was a waste of time. No one else in the band had gone to college and they were all doing just fine. Why waste time on homework when there was music to play and dogs to rescue.
"Nothing, Emmett said, shaking his head. "I just wasn't expecting you to be in school on top of everything else. Guess you did leave a few things out of your story."
"No kidding," Edward muttered before slipping back into a Benadryl-induced coma.
Izzy hadn't meant to hide the fact that she was in school. It just slipped her mind. Who cared about a few gen ed courses in a story about the birth of a rock star?
"It's just a few community college classes," Izzy said. "Nothing to write home about."
"Olympia Community College?" Emmett asked.
Izzy nodded. It was the only college close enough for her to attend without having to move away from La Push.
"You have good taste," Emmett said, clapping her on the back."Did you know I went there before I figured out fire was way more fun than books?"
"I'm sure the professors are still traumatized," Izzy said, grinning.
No one would ever forget Emmett's ill-fated year at OCC. The new rules in the student handbook and the art building Esme donated as an apology made sure of that.
"So what are you majoring in?" Emmett asked.
Izzy shrugged. "I'm just taking a few gen ed classes for now. This semester I'm taking World Religions in person and Statistics online."
To tell the truth, Izzy wasn't sure what she hoped to get out of college. Maybe she wanted to better herself. Maybe she wanted a backup plan in case things with the Wolves went south. Maybe she wanted to make her late father proud. All she knew for sure was that holding that glossy book of course offerings felt right.
"Who do you have for World Religions?" Emmett asked.
Izzy groaned. "Professor Smith."
That was what happened to people who fell asleep waiting for registration to open. They ended up in the most boring class OCC had to offer.
"Smithy?" Emmett said, grinning. "We go way back. His class was one of my favorites!"
Izzy wondered if Emmett had anything to do with Professor Smith's extended sabbatical. No one knew for sure why he took a three-year-long break from teaching, but Izzy suspected it had something to do with the scorch mark on the ceiling.
"Is that who you were emailing?" Emmett asked.
"Yes," Izzy replied. "He wants to know why I missed midterms."
"Gimme," Emmett said, snatching Izzy's phone.
Izzy wasn't worried at first. There was only so much damage Emmett could do without her password.
"Enter the password," Emmett said, stroking his chin. "What four digits would Bella Swan use?"
Izzy learned in statistics class that there are 10,000 four-digit numbers. Emmett's odds of guessing her password before being locked out were next to zero.
"I got it!" Emmett exclaimed. "0620!"
"How the hell did you guess that?" Izzy asked.
Had Emmett developed the ability to read minds? There was no way he pulled that number out of thin air.
Emmett smirked. "You've always been the sentimental type."
"My birthday," Edward muttered. "You picked my birthday."
Izzy bit her lip. Maybe her random password hadn't been so random after all.
"Dear Professor Smith," Emmett typed. "Sorry I missed your boring class. I had to help de-cult my fiance and his brothers."
Edward looked up at Izzy when Emmett said the word "fiance." Izzy pretended to take a sudden interest in something outside the window. A lot had happened the day he knelt down on one knee.
A flash of light caught Izzy's attention.
"Ps," Emmett said. "Emmett says he'll come to Port Angeles and bite you if you don't give me an extension on my homework. And…send."
Send? What did he mean, send? Professor Smith had given Izzy a lot of leeway. He gave her extensions on due dates and didn't fault her for missing the occasional lecture. He didn't even comment when she nodded off in class. If Emmett sent that email professor Smith might not be willing to show Izzy any more grace.
"Emmett," Izzy said, trying to keep her temper in check. "Did you send that email?
"Would I do something like that?" Emmett asked.
Izzy didn't even have to think about the answer. "Yes."
Emmett was Emmett. A rude email was nothing compared to pranks he used to pull on his brothers.
"Emmett," Izzy said, holding out her hand. "Give me my fucking phone."
Edward's eyes popped open. He'd probably never heard her swear before.
"Isabella Marie Cullen!" Emmett shouted, shaking his finger. "Language!"
Izzy thought she was past her angry phase. Years of releasing her feelings through music had cured her of the urge to last out at anyone within striking distance. Leave it to Emmett to bring that white-hot rage right back to the surface with one well-timed smirk.
"Emmett!" Izzy growled. "Phone! Now!"
Emmett held the phone away from her. "Only if you say please and apologize for snapping at your favorite older brother."
Please. Something about that word made Izzy's blood boil. As a teenager, she would have backed down by this point. She would have groveled for Emmett's forgiveness and begged for her phone back. She would have let Emmett laugh the whole situation off and go home to scream in her pillow. What Emmett didn't seem to realize was that she wasn't that timid little girl anymore. She'd never apologize for standing her ground.
In the end, it turned out that Izzy was wrong about Emmett. The email was sitting in drafts. Or at least it was until Izzy accidentally hit send when she snatched her phone out of Emmett's hand. To make matters even worse, Emmett had attached a selfie with fangs on full display. Professor Smith was probably either dead of a heart attack or booking a plane ticket to meet a real-life former cult member.
Professor Smith's Response was near-instantaneous. Take all the time you need to make up your classwork. PS. Please don't bring that monster anywhere near campus.
Emmett leaned over and read the email. Surprisingly, he didn't seem bothered that Professor Smith had referred to him as a monster.
"Problem solved," Emmett said, leaning back in his chair. "You're welcome."
Izzy unclenched her fist as she recalled all the sleepless nights spent wishing Emmett was still around to tease her. One rude email was a small price to pay to have him back. Any misbehavior could be written off as a side effect of spending the last five years in the clutches of a madman.
"I bet your dad is relieved you decided to go back to school," Emmett said. "Do you remember how mad he was when we went to that show in Seattle?"
Izzy was angry when her father told her she wasn't allowed to go to see Korn with Emmett and Edward. So what if it was a school night? So what if the show was at a bar. She was seventeen, not seven. She was mature enough to make her own decisions.
"I really thought he was going to tear Edward's head off when we brought you home the next day," Emmett said. "How long were you grounded for? A month?
"Two months," Izzy said.
At the time, she thought it was overkill. All she'd done was go to see Korn with her friends. Was it really necessary to put a ban on fun for two whole months? Now that she was older, Izzy understood why her father was so upset. It must have been terrifying to wake up in the middle of the night and find his daughter missing. He must have thought the worst when she didn't come home by the time morning rolled around.
"The chief probably hit the roof when you told him you were joining a band," Emmett said. "I hope for your sake he's mellowed out some since then."
Izzy had to remind herself that Emmett wasn't trying to be mean. He had no way of knowing what had happened to her father.
"My father died a little less than a year after you disappeared," Izzy said. "He never knew about the band."
"Oh Bella," Emmett said. "I'm so sorry. Rose always said God gave me a big mouth so I'd have plenty of room to stick my foot in."
Edward opened his eyes. "Your dad died? What happened?"
"He got sick with something called Covid," Izzy said. "It's a type of respiratory disease."
"That was real?" Emmett whispered. "I thought he was lying about everything."
Izzy offered her hands to Edward and Emmett. Edward was the only one to accept.
"So there really was a pandemic?" Emmett asked. "Millions of people died?"
"Yes," Izzy said.
"How bad was it in Forks?" Edward asked.
"Bad," Izzy replied. "We lost a lot of good people."
Izzy's father and two deputies. Her next-door neighbors. Three teachers and five nurses. Those were just a few of the people lost to that awful virus. Things were even worse in La Push. The clinic wasn't equipped to fight a pandemic. They had to convert the high school gym into a makeshift hospital. Sam, Quil, Paul, and the Clearwater siblings all said goodbye to parents over zoom. Had Carlilse not donated crucial supplies, entire generations of Quiletes would have been wiped out.
"Is it still bad?" Emmett asked.
"The virus is still present, but it isn't nearly as bad as it once was," Izzy said. "Thanks to vaccines and new medications people rarely die anymore. For most, it's like a bad cold."
Thanks to their frequent traveling, everyone in the band had tested positive at least three times. Izzy panicked every time, but no one ended up sick enough to be hospitalized.
"The last few years must have been awful for you," Emmett said. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to stay in Forks after you'd lost so much."
Another thing she'd left out of her story was about to come to light.
"I actually don't live in Forks anymore," Izzy said.
"Then where do you live?" Emmett asked, offering her a tense smile. "Somewhere it doesn't rain 300 days a year?"
She'd thought about moving somewhere warm like California or Hawaii, but in the end, there was only one place that felt like home.
"I live in La Push," Izzy said.
Emmett silently stared at Izzy for a moment. "I thought only Quiletes could live in La Push."
"Only Quiletes can own land," Izzy said. "I live in my friend Sam's house."
One of Edward's monitors beeped.
"Is it just the two of you in that house?" Emmett asked after another staring episode.
"No," Izzy said, starting to feel self-conscious. "The rest of the band and a few of our friends live there too."
The number of people living in Sam's house had fluctuated wildly over the years. Some people stayed for a few weeks. Others bought mattresses and never left. At the moment, there were eleven full-time residents. However, Izzy wouldn't be surprised if that number had grown by the time she got home. Sam had never been one to turn strays, human or dog, away.
"How can that many people live in one house?" Emmett asked. "I've been on a few calls in La Push. None of the houses are very big."
"We make do," Izzy said. "Jake helped Sam convert the basement and attic into additional living spaces."
"Jake," Edward said. "That's Jacob Black, right?"
Edward didn't say Jake's name with the usual venom. If anything, he just sounded tired. For some reason, that made Izzy feel even worse.
"Yes," Izzy replied.
"That scrawny little kid who showed up drunk to your engagement party?" Emmett asked.
The years had been kind to Jake. He was no longer scrawny or a little kid.
As usual, Izzy's phone rang at the worst possible time. She expected it to be Jake. When they last talked, Izzy confirmed that the Cullens did in fact have fangs. While she told him they'd never use them on her, Jake didn't seem convinced. He was probably calling to make sure she hadn't ended up on the dinner menu. Had Izzy been hooked up to a heart rate monitor, it would have summoned a fleet of nurses. It wasn't Jake calling. It was Paul.
"I should get this," Izzy said, sprinting out of the room.
Unlike Jake, Paul wasn't one to call just to chat. He had little patience for things like small talk, emotions, or beating around the bush. He never wasted time on phone calls unless they were absolutely necessary. Over the years, Paul had deemed only two situations worthy of calling Izzy; Rebel being hit by a car and Esme trying to break into the house.
Izzy picked up on the last ring. "Paul? What's going on?
Izzy's mind was going through a million different scenarios. Was someone hurt? Was there a problem at the rescue? Had Rebel slipped out of the house to search for her?
"Izzy," Paul said. "You need to come home."