When Rosalie returned from the decade dance, the echo of Meredith's heartbreaking sobs filled the house. This haunting melody seemed to linger in the air as if the very fibers of Meredith's being had been shattered into countless, irreparable fragments.

With her heart heavy, Rosalie approached Meredith's bedroom door, which was slightly ajar.

"Merri?" she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The worry in her tone was palpable as she gently rapped on the door, hoping for a response. She stood there, listening to the silence, the minutes stretching endlessly around her. After half an hour with no reply, exhaustion overtook her, and she reluctantly made her way to bed, her mind racing with concern.

The following morning, Rosalie could not shake the unease that clung to her like a shadow. She returned to Meredith's bedroom, the light streaming through the window casting an inviting glow.

As she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat when she realized the room was empty. Panic surged within her, fueling a frantic need for connection. Without a moment's hesitation, she quickly sent a text to Meredith, her fingers trembling as she typed, and then rushed to prepare herself to meet Bella, her heart still heavy with worry for her cousin.

I found myself in Alaric's old room, surrounded by memories of him that flashed through my mind.

As I stood there, lost in thought, my phone suddenly started ringing. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was Alaric calling.

Confused and frustrated, I couldn't help but wonder who would find this situation amusing. I sighed heavily, suspecting that Damon might have given someone Alaric's phone and compelled them to call me.

"Whoever this is, it's not funny," I snapped into the phone.

"Well, who else would it be?" came the response.

I was taken aback; what the fuck?

"Ric?"

"Listen closely; I'm at the school. I have Caroline and Isabella, and if you want to keep them safe, I need you to get in your car and get here immediately. If you tell anyone where you are going, I will make her regret it," Alaric's voice sounded urgent and severe.

"I don't believe you!" I protested.

"Elena?!" Bella's voice suddenly gasped over the phone.

My heart dropped to my ankles. "Bella?!"

'What's happening?!'

"Get here," Alaric commanded before the line went dead.

"Gran?"

"Bella? Bella, this is the fifth time you've called," her voice crackled through the line, a mix of concern and annoyance threading through her words.

"I just wanted to check in," I murmured, glancing around the bustling grill where the intoxicating aroma of sizzling burgers mingled with the crisp scent of fresh fries.

The rustic décor, with its varnished wooden tables and vintage posters adorning the walls, offered a cozy retreat from the outside world as I waited for Rosalie.

"I'm fine; I'm still on the plane," she reassured me, her voice softening slightly though an undercurrent of tension remained.

"How long will you be gone?" I asked, the knot of worry tightening in my stomach.

"For about a week. Irma's husband passed away, and her kids can't get away from their own families at the moment," she explained, her tone now tinged with genuine sadness.

"I hope your friend will be okay," I said, feeling the weight of loss seep into my heart.

"It's just a slip on gravel, but when you reach my age…" She trailed off, leaving the implications unspoken.

"It's okay; I can manage," I said, sounding more confident than I felt. "Elena and Jeremy are just a few houses down, and the Forbes family is across the street. I promise I'll be alright. Go take care of your friend."

I hoped my words concealed the flicker of unease that loomed in the back of my mind.

"Sorry, I'm late!" Rosalie declared as she burst through the door, her cheeks flushed and her wavy hair bouncing with each hurried step. She slid into the booth across from me, clearly flustered. "I was looking for Meredith."

"Looking for her?" I echoed, a hint of concern weaving through my tone.

"She was really down last night; I heard her crying," she confessed, her brow furrowing as she remembered her cousin's distress.

"Did you see her?" I pressed.

"She's at the hospital; she went in early this morning," Rosalie replied, the seriousness in her tone sending a chill through me.

"Did she say what was wrong?" I asked, my heart racing at the thought of her being in such a difficult place.

"Probably guy trouble," Rosalie sighed, rolling her eyes as if the mere thought were a burden.

"Isabella?" a deep voice interrupted our conversation.

"She's at the hospital; she went in early this morning," Rosalie replied, the seriousness in her tone sending a chill through me.

I swallowed hard as he drew near. "Isabella Swan?" he asked, his voice low, uncertain, yet strangely compelling.

Rosalie exchanged glances with me, a look of confusion crossing her features. "Who's this guy?" she questioned, curiosity piqued.

"Henry," I replied, my pulse quickening with every word.

At that moment, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket, and I glanced at the screen to see Damon's name flashing ominously. I hesitated before declining the call, my heartbeat loud in my ears as I refocused my attention.

"Henry?" Rosalie repeated, her eyes widening in recognition. "As in Henry Flemming?!"

"May I join you?" he asked, his gaze sweeping across the crowded restaurant as if searching for someone.

We exchanged hesitant glances before nodding, and he slid into the booth, his presence commanding yet strangely awkward. I saw Matt lingering in the background, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern as he watched us intently.

"Hello," Henry said softly, the weariness in his voice almost palpable. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you, Isabella."

"Hi, I'm Caroline Forbes," Rosalie introduced herself enthusiastically, extending her hand for a handshake.

Henry's face paled slightly at her introduction, and I felt a knot of discomfort tighten in my stomach, grateful that this conversation was taking place amidst the chatter of eager patrons and the clinking of glasses.

"Pleased to meet you," he replied nervously, glancing between us. "How are you, Isabella?"

I shrugged, trying to project an air of stability. "Surviving."

"How's your grandmother?" he inquired, his expression softening with genuine interest.

"Good," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "How are you?"

"I'm... fairing," he said carefully, his eyes darting momentarily to Caroline, who was watching him with keen interest. "You should have your grandmother call me."

Without warning, Henry Flemming abruptly rose from his seat and walked away, leaving a heavy silence, like the sudden stillness that follows a loud crash.

"That was weird," Rosalie murmured, her gaze glued to his retreating figure.

"Did you notice his reaction when you introduced yourself as Caroline?" I asked, the strange encounter lingering in my mind.

"The color literally drained from his face. You should be cautious around him," she said, her expression serious.

"Hey, Bella."

We turned to find Matt standing a few feet away, his intense gaze piercing the air between us. His face held a swirl of emotions—concern, urgency, and something I couldn't quite place.

"Donovan," Rosalie greeted him coolly, her voice steady and guarded as she sized him up.

"Rosalie," he acknowledged, his response clipped and curt.

"Hey, Matt," I added, hoping to ease the tension.

"Did you need something?" Rosalie asked, a slight irritation creeping into her voice after a brief pause. "Bella and I are in an important discussion here."

"I need to ask Bella something," he insisted, urgency sharpening his voice.

"What is it?" I prompted, feeling the atmosphere thicken with concern.

"Can you give Bella and me a minute?" he pressed, gesturing sharply toward Rosalie.

"Just ask, Matt," I sighed, frustration creeping up as I tried to maintain my composure.

"Have you seen Elena?" he blurted out, his eyes darting anxiously as if she might materialize at any moment.

You've got to be kidding me.

I shook my head slowly. "I haven't seen much of Elena lately."

"Maybe Mr. Saltzman took her and Jeremy out," Rosalie suggested, attempting to lighten the mood with a faint smile. "This is their first holiday without their aunt and uncle; that can be tough, even for the lightest personalities."

"How can he when he's—?" Matt faltered, his expression flickering with something darker as he gritted his teeth. "Maybe you're right." His gaze returned to me, frustration etched in every line of his face. "Jeremy called me looking for you."

"I'll talk to him when I'm finished here," I replied firmly, my determination solid as I stood my ground.

"You should really check on your... neighbors," he hissed, glaring at Rosalie as if she were the root of the problem.

"Will do," I replied tersely, feeling the tension crackling around us.

"We should head over to my house," Rosalie suggested, throwing a pointed, almost challenging glare back at Matt. "There will be fewer interruptions there."

"Is Bella alright?" Elena demanded, her voice urgent and filled with anxiety as she burst through the front door of the Gilbert house. Her eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of her friend. "Alaric said he had her—"

A dark, somber expression settled over Caroline's features, making her look even more grave. "We can't find Bella," she replied, her voice heavy with dread.

Elena's heart raced audibly, and I could see disbelief flickering across her face as she turned sharply to Damon and me.

"What?! Alaric said he had Bella—I heard her voice—"

"He used a tape recorder," Caroline interjected, her tone laced with frustration as if she were trying to break through the thick fog of confusion hanging over us. "When we heard your car, he played it for me. It was a recorded conversation with both of you."

Elena's face went pale, the color draining from her cheeks as the reality settled in.

"Was he planning this for that long?" Her voice wavered, the weight of fear consuming her. "Did anyone call her?!"

"I did," Damon replied, his brows furrowing in determination. "She's not answering; maybe Ric got her."

Elena's voice turned frantic, "No! Call her grandmother—"

Caroline lowered her voice to a whisper, her gaze darting around as if fearing Alaric might lurk nearby. "Her grandmother is out of town visiting a friend. I saw her leave this morning when I went to school."

A wave of disbelief crashed over me, and I could barely hold back the prayer forming in my mind: not Bella, please god, not her.

"I can't believe Alaric would do anything to harm Bella," I said, my hands trembling as I pulled out my phone. "Maybe I should try calling her."

"I already did," Damon scoffed, his voice thick with exasperation. "She's probably already—"

"Hello?" Bella's soft voice came through the line, sounding so distant and uncertain that it made my heart ache.

If I were still human, my heart would have leaped for joy at hearing her voice. "Bella—"

"Why the hell didn't you answer me when I called you?" Damon erupted, a surge of temper igniting within him.

"I don't like you," Bella replied flatly, her tone devoid of warmth.

Caroline stifled a laugh, but the air remained tense, thick with unspoken words and worries.

"Where are you?" I pressed, desperation creeping into my voice as I sought answers.

"At Rosalie's house. I decided to stay the night here," Bella said, her voice tinged with a defiance that was both infuriating and reassuring. "Stefan, what's—"

"Have you been with Rosalie all day?" I interrupted, my concern eclipsing my composure.

"Pretty much," she confirmed. "Stefan—"

"Where is Rosalie now?" I asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor while my heart raced.

"You're on speaker, Salvatore," Rosalie's voice chimed in, slicing through the tension with a note of irritation. We exchanged glances, nerves rippling through us like electricity before she continued, "Did you find Elena?"

"How did you know I was missing?" Elena replied, her voice a mixture of surprise and unease.

"Matt Donovan," Rosalie answered matter-of-factly as if it were the most apparent information in the world.

I caught Caroline rolling her eyes, her exasperation clear as she looked at us as if we were overreacting.

"We're coming to get you, Bella," Elena declared, her voice rising with urgency, determination etched into every word.

"Why?" Rosalie countered, her tone skeptical.

"No, I told Gran I was—" Bella began, but her voice was abruptly cut off.

"We're coming to get you," Damon reiterated firmly, his resolve palpable as he clenched his fists.

"No, I'm staying here," Bella shot back defiantly, a hint of rebellion in her voice, and with that, she abruptly ended the call.

"She's probably safer there," Caroline began softly, her expression shifting to one of genuine concern.

"No, her friend is Meredith's cousin," Damon declared firmly, shaking his head as if to emphasize the seriousness of the situation.

"What?!" The three of us exclaimed in unison, shock reflecting in our eyes.

"How long have you known?!" I demanded, my voice rising in disbelief.

"When I talked to Meredith at the hospital," Damon replied with a shrug as if the revelation was trivial. "Didn't think it was important."

"You didn't think it was important?!" Elena screeched, her frustration bubbling over.

Damon dropped his nonchalance and stepped toward her, but she whirled around and stormed upstairs, frustration echoing in her footsteps as Jeremy and Bonnie entered the house.

"What's with her?" Jeremy asked, glancing between us, confusion etched across his features.

"Has Elena ever mentioned that Matt Donovan has a big mouth?" Rosalie asked, her eyes narrowing with curiosity as Bella ended the call.

Bella tossed her phone onto Rosalie's neatly made bed, the device landing with a soft thud. "Nope."

Rosalie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You should probably bring up Henry Flemming before Big Mouth has a chance to."

With a flick of her hair, Bella created a barrier between herself and Rosalie, her expression a mix of frustration and defiance. "I don't feel like sharing anything with her. She hasn't told me anything either."

"Just text Jeremy; he'll pass the message along to her," Rosalie suggested, her tone shifting to practicality.

Bella let out a weary sigh, contemplating the situation, then nodded reluctantly. She turned her gaze to the window, her thoughts drifting. "Someone will come to spy on us. It could be a human, a witch, or a vampire, but someone will inevitably appear."

Rosalie sighed softly in agreement, then settled beside Bella, both lost in thought as they gazed at the world beyond the glass, shrouded in a sense of looming uncertainty.

"You know, I'm barely out of Virginia, and already Elena has sold our souls to the Originals?" Damon's frustration dripped from his voice, each word heavy with the weight of their predicament.

"It was her decision," replied Bonnie.

"And what else does she decide? Every single disaster we've faced."

A tense silence hung between them, thick with unspoken fears.

"Where's the body?' Bonnie asked. 'Because as long as it's unspelled, Alaric is just one witch away from uncovering its whereabouts."

"It's hidden; originally, I thought about using Unit 666, but that seemed a bit too on the nose. So..." They paused before a non-descript storage unit. "It's in 1020. Just a mini fridge,

a couple of old bird cages, and a box of vintage Playboys." With a swift motion, Damon pulled open the shutter door of the unit.

Inside, nestled in darkness, lay a solitary casket. Heaving it open, Bonnie's breath stilled. There, chained and desiccated, was Klaus—the infamous Original—his body a grotesque shadow of its former self. But suddenly, he opened his eyes, their fiery gaze locking onto theirs. "Oh, creepy," Damon muttered, a shiver creeping down his spine.

"I need a moment," Bonnie replied softly, her heart racing.

"Just use the witch locator or your bat signal, whatever you have, and let's move on," Damon urged impatiently.

Bonnie's voice quivered with palpable anguish. "Elena and Jeremy lost Jenna and Alaric because of him. Tyler's a hybrid, my mother's a vampire... Could you give me a moment to process this?"

Damon sighed, frustration etched on his face, before turning and shutting the storage unit door behind him. Bonnie remained, peering into the casket, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.

"You should burn in hell," she whispered, staring down at Klaus. "But if you die, my friends die too. My mother... What am I supposed to do with that kind?" Her voice cracked under the weight of despair as she grappled with the impossible reality.