The house was quiet, save for the occasional whisper of wind slipping through the gaps in the ancient stone. I sat in my office, curled into a worn leather chair, lost in the pages of a book I had read too many times before. Outside, the sky was darkening, shifting from a cold gray to the ink of night. The lamp beside me flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the room. The air smelled of old paper, pine, and the faint metallic sting of something long since dried.
A knock at the door broke through the silence. Subtle. Deliberate.
Atticus. I knew before he spoke. Lukas was more restless, his unnecessary habits of movement giving him away every time. Atticus, however, had the stillness of someone who had long accepted what he was.
"Come in," I said, marking my place in the book and setting it on the rusted iron table beside me.
Atticus entered, closing the door behind him. A calculated movement—one we used when we wanted to create the illusion of privacy. In this house, real privacy was impossible, but the idea can be comforting.
His sharp gaze flickered to the book in my lap, and he scoffed. "That one again? Not very original of you, Claralise."
I sighed, leaning back into my chair. "I was feeling melancholic."
His expression didn't shift. "Unfortunately you might feel it a bit more after what I am about to tell you."
I straightened, my eyes narrowing. "Why? What's happened?"
He hesitated for half a second—just long enough for me to pick up on the weight of his next words.
"I just heard from Lee."
That got my attention. Lee didn't reach out unless he had something he thought was worth sharing—something that would earn him favor or position. He knew better than to waste our time.
Atticus continued, "The Cullens have fled the Northwest. And it looks like they left in a hurry."
I went still. My hands clenched against the armrests, a reaction so brief I doubted even Atticus caught it. But he knew me too well. He saw the way my jaw tightened, the way my breath hitched before I forced myself back into cold indifference.
He ignored my reaction, as always. "They didn't travel together. The majority went to their home in Ithaca. They're settling in and they will stay for a while. I assume the 'children' will enroll in high school again."
"The majority," I echoed.
"Edward is in Denali."
"Ah." I tilted my head, feigning disinterest. "Catching up with old friends before returning to the charade." That would explain how Lee knew. He had been a close "friend" Tanya Denali for decades, and she had never been one for discretion.
Atticus didn't react to my words, but he was watching me closely. Too closely.
"I don't see why you think I should care," I said, voice deliberately bored. "I have no interest in the monotonous lives of self-righteous covens."
In fact, had been over twenty years since we last discussed them. Occasionally, Atticus would pick up pieces of their whereabouts through his network, but we had agreed long ago that it wasn't in my best interest to hear about them.
Ignorance is bliss.
Out of sight, out of mind.
These were the mantras that kept me sane. The mentality that allowed me to move forward.
Atticus was still watching me. His gaze softened just slightly, and then, for the first time, he hesitated.
"They left a human girl behind," he said.
My spine stiffened.
I hated the way my stomach twisted, the way something in my chest curled inward like a dying flame. I clenched my hands tighter, forcing myself to remain composed.
I exhaled slowly. "You will stop speaking in riddles now, Atticus. I'm in no mood for it. What exactly do you mean by 'they left a human girl behind'?"
The Cullens were known for their unusual tolerance of humans, but if Atticus was bringing this to me, then something was wrong. Something far beyond their typical moral posturing.
He watched me for another moment, then relented.
"Two days ago, Lee informed me that Edward Cullen met his mate at Forks High School last March. A human girl. Instead of turning her and taking her into hiding for the newborn stage, he chose to stay with her, keeping up the facade of a normal relationship." Atticus paused. "Up until three weeks ago, when, for reasons he refuses to share, he left her stranded in the woods. Alone. No warning. No map."
The silence in the room stretched, pressing in like something physical.
Atticus studied me, gauging my reaction. Whatever he saw in my eyes convinced him to continue.
"Lee went to Forks to see for himself. He's been there a day and a half. It's bad." His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "The girl is completely catatonic. Nonresponsive. The only sign of life is her screaming at night." He exhaled, jaw tightening. "Edward broke her."
For a long time, I said nothing. I couldn't.
I had spent over eighty years running from the past, from the pieces of myself that still ached when I thought of them. Now, the past was knocking at my door.
Finally, I found my voice, though it came out quieter than I intended.
"What is her name?"
Atticus didn't hesitate.
"Isabella Swan."