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Chapter Text

The day I turned 13 I broke my arm.  Maybe in hindsight it was a suitable start to my teenage years, but I couldn’t possibly know it at the time. All I knew were the hurried glances my mother gave me in the ER, or how I had to still take the bus to school, clinging to my too big backpack with my other arm because she could not skip her shifts.

When I was freshly 14 I first fell in love. It was stupid. It was a children’s crush. It was embarrassing. She never even looked at me. Sometimes I still think about it and wonder. I always wonder.

On my 15th birthday, I got into a fight behind the school parking lot after a girl told everyone my parents got divorced because my father couldn’t stand the sight of me. I wanted her to hurt more than she had hurt me, but instead I got bruised knuckles, a cut on my lip and spent the next weeks in detention. I learned to pull my punches that day.

The day I was 16 I got my first prescription for depression and a pamphlet that told me to meditate and be aware of my feelings. It landed in the bin, on top of bills I paid that Renée forgot, next to a single party hat. The pills tasted like poison and after they were empty I never got a refill again.

As I became 17, my mother took me out to dinner and told me she was getting married again. I congratulated her over a plate of fried rice and then I went to bed and cried that night, I wondered if there was a place for me left if she didn’t need me anymore. If there was a place for me anywhere at all.

The day I turned 18 I watched my life break apart right in front of me.

I tried to say it, tried to shout it. “I can change.” I would do anything. Everything. But he left and there was nothing to be done. Nothing but sit quietly and fall apart while the whole world crashed and burned to the ground.

Sometimes I swear I can still feel where the bone broke all those years ago, and somehow I can feel this just the same, right under my collarbone like a hollowness where something else used to lie. And it lingers and lingers and threatens to never leave again.

Chapter Text

I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop

Right when I felt the moment stop

The first thing I notice is the cold. It feels all-consuming; like it is eating away at my flesh and tucking at my limbs. It seeps through my clothes and into my skin. It almost feels familiar, but then again not at all.

The second thing I notice is the silence. There is no laughter, no one calling my name, no static TV noise. I try to concentrate on my breaths, but there is a pressure in my head that makes it hard to focus, and I idly wonder if I’m breathing at all. 

Then I hear a low string of mutters and curse words, followed by heavy steps. Too heavy to those I’m used to. And as I realize that I am alone in the middle of the woods in pitch black, the last thing I notice is fear.

“Leah, please wait.” 

“I don’t know what I would be waiting for.” 

I can’t recognize the voices. They seem far away, but I don’t know if I should trust my judgment. 

“You can’t just walk off alone.”

“Oh and you can? Would be in character, wouldn’t it?”

I close my eyes as white flashes cloud my vision and the dull pressure settles into the back of my head. I try not to remember, but it all still comes back to me.

“You’re not good.”

I feel like something in me has slipped away and nothing is there to fill it.

“Leah, this has nothing to do with that. Just …  go back to the others. I’ll help look for her.”

“You would like that, huh? Wanna play the knight in shining armor again? Maybe someone will fall for it. I sure did.”

“Leah, I … “

“Do you see that?”

I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I just want it to go away.

“You’re not good enough for me.”

“Is that her?” 

I hear leaves rustling and clothes shifting. I feel a tuck on my sleeve. 

“Bella? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m so tired.

“I’ll carry her.”

“Leah, please be reasonable. You can tell the others we found her.”

“I found her, I’ll carry her. She deserves better than you.”

“I’m just trying to help. You know I’m stronger than you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

I feel more tucking and I’m not on the ground anymore. My mind goes back to before . Being carried, flying through the forest. It felt exhilarating, but now I just feel small and haunted.

“You’re not good enough for me.”

I think I slip back into unconsciousness after that. When I come back, a different pair of arms is grabbing me. 

“Bella, are you okay?”

I think it’s Charlie. I try to nod. Time slips away again. I can’t tell for how long.

“Dr Gerardy is here to take a look at you.” 

“I can’t see any injuries, let her sleep it off and we can check in again tomorrow.”

This time, I don’t get to slip away. I think I’m on the couch in the living room now. I can hear Charlie shuffling in the kitchen.

“Dad?”  I hear something shatter, and then he’s next to me.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“He … the Cullens left.  I must have gotten lost in the dark. I’m sorry.”

“Did he leave you alone in the woods?” Charlie’s brows are furrowed.

“For Charlie’s sake, of course.”

“No - I - I just got lost on the way back, it wasn’t even that far. It was my fault.”

The room is too dark to read his face properly. I can’t tell if he believes me. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. 

“I’ll go upstairs and lay down a bit.”

His dark eyes follow me as I scoop up the blanket someone must have wrapped around me. It smells like wisteria and cedar. I bring it up the stairs with me and hang it over my bed frame.

I sense myself going over to the CD player. It is empty. The photo album has ripped out pages. It feels like there is a metaphor somewhere in this, but I am too tired and desolate to care.

“A clean break.”

I wish I knew what to do. With myself. With feeling like this. Instead, I sit down on the sheets and let it burn deeper through me.

I think I hear fireworks going off in the distance. I listen to Charlie speaking on the phone to someone. 

“They’re having a bonfire in La Push. Seems like celebrating the Cullen’s departure. Just tell them to keep it down in the future. And say thank you to Leah again for me.”

I crawl into bed and drag the blanket over me. It still smells like flowers and the forest. Not sweetly like them , but different. It’s still warm.

Rain falls against my window and I count the drops. I don’t remember getting past 50.

When I open my eyes again, faint sun rays shine through my window. It feels surreal for the clouds to disperse today, but still the world continues to spin, even though mine maybe doesn’t. 

“You’re not good enough for me.”

It doesn’t feel like a clean break. It feels like fire and ice and waves crashing over me. And I let it. It floods over me, and I sit awake and unmoving. I hope I don’t emerge.

Chapter Text

Glass shattered on the white cloth

Everybody moved on

I used to be scared. Scared to jump off the diving board at the pool, because I could see myself shatter on the surface like a porcelain doll if I ever tried. Scared to go out after dark, because who could know what might be lurking there?  I used to be scared. Scared to be alone. Terrified.

Now I wish there was anything -anyone- left.

The days in small town Forks, Washington seem to drag on like bitter licorice candy. September comes and goes. I don’t go to work anymore. I think I must have lost my job by now. I don’t find it in me to care.

I wish I knew what to do with my life. I wish I knew how to start caring again. Where to put all these feelings that are bubbling inside of me under the layer of cement I buried them. They are eating me up from the inside, poisoning me a little more every day.

Suddenly it’s October. And then October comes and goes. It feels like eternity and like the blink of an eye. When November arrives, something changes. Charlie wants to send me ‘home’, as he calls it. Back to Arizona or to Florida, or wherever Renee is currently staying. But I can’t go.

I’m not sure why. It’s abundantly clear that they are not coming back. But it feels wrong. What would be different, anyway? It seems like too much to make the move. Too much on me. Too much on Renee. Everything seems too much these days.

So I tell Charlie I’m staying. I tell him I need stability. I tell him I’m going to leave the house more and I’m going to look for a job again. I don’t at first. Not really. I try, I really do. But every day gets shorter and darker, and I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to go back to before.

For a long time I do nothing. My life a few months ago seems so far away at this point. It takes everything in me to just show up to school, and I don’t have it in me to talk with anyone anymore. Truly, it takes everything just to get up each day. 

9th November 

So I start there. The day I come to is a Wednesday. I’ve never had a particular feeling about Wednesdays. Or even thought about having feelings about days of the week. It seems pretty significant now. 

I don’t remember my upcoming deadlines or homework. I don’t think I really have friends anymore. It’s raining, because this is Forks and when is it not? I idly wonder if Charlie is right and if I would flourish under the heat of the sun. I try to remember if I was happy there. Not happy, maybe. But then again also not like this.

I get up a little earlier that day. I hear Charlie shuffling in the bathroom, while I open my planner for the first time in months and stare at the pages. I cross out September. I rip out the day of my birthday and leave it crumpled up under my bed. I cross out October. There are 31 days in October and I don’t remember a single one of them.

I cross out every day up until the 9th of November. And then to be sure, I cross that day off to and start at the 10th. I try to write a To Do list. I find that I’m not sure what I even need to do. For school. For work. I should ask Charlie if I still have a job or not.  I could probably ask Mike at school, but I don’t really want to talk to him.

So that leaves the following tasks scribbled down: find out if I still have a job, if applicable get a new job, eat, shower, track upcoming deadlines, find out how to catch up on homework. Maybe clean my room. I don’t think I have vacuumed recently. Maybe Charlie has, even though I’m not sure he even knows where the vacuum is.

I close it again and shove it into my backpack. I get dressed and go downstairs to the kitchen and take a stock of the fridge. The near empty shelves make me feel even worse. I promise myself to go to the grocery store after school. Or at least pick up dinner from the diner. That seems doable. There are job postings taped to the fridge door, which allows me to check the first item from my list.

I pour myself cereal for breakfast and try to remember what classes I have Wednesdays. I don’t remember. I leave the bowl in the sink and am out of the door before Charlie comes downstairs.

I don’t end up going grocery shopping or going to the diner. At least not that day. I manage to pick up some essentials the next day. I also get a math text back that I don’t recall taking. It’s a C. I don’t think I have an A average anymore. I don’t know what college I’m applying to or if I’m even still applying, now that the plan from before is void. I guess I don’t have to go to college in Alaska anymore.

On Friday there are many dates added to my planner, all shining in several shades of highlight. I have not yet looked at the job postings. I think Charlie has noticed that they are still taped on the fridge but he hasn’t asked me about it. I fold up the blanket on my bed and it still smells like flowers.

Over the weekend I take walks when it’s not raining. I want to listen to music, but can’t find a playlist that doesn’t remind me of them, him, before . I feel pathetic. I feel like a mess. I feel like a fool.

That Monday when I’m sitting at the dining table at dinner for the first time, Charlie pushes a piece of paper over to me. 

“I heard the Clearwater’s are looking for some help in the coffee shop. Leah has been working alone since… Well, since Sam has quit.”

I blink. Once, twice.

“Leah Clearwater?”

“Yeah. She was actually the one that found you when… that night. Good kid. Even gave you a blanket out of her car. Shame how that boy treated her.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but I nod and he continues.

“Well anyway, if you’re up to it, I talked to Sue and you can give them a call. Maybe it would be nice for you to get out a bit more. You used to like going to La Push as a kid.”

I don’t answer.

I overhear them talking at school the next day. At first, I don’t really bother, because what would they know? They could never understand exactly what I’ve lost. They wouldn’t understand that I had love and friendship and a plan. A plan that would’ve given me immortality and belonging and the chance to be free.

“Bella is still not over that guy, huh?”

“I can’t remember ever hanging onto a breakup that long. That girl really needs some priorities.”

“She should really move on. It’s been so long and she’s still stuck.”

“She ditched all her friends for him. Now see what she has left.”

I used to be terrified of being alone. I am. It doesn’t matter.

The next day, I dial the number Charlie gave me.

Chapter Text

I, I stayed there

Dust collected on my pinned-up hair

It picks up after the third ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hi… this is Bella Swan?”

“Yeah?”

I wrap the phone cord around my hand and bite my lip. “Charlie said to call about a job?”

“Oh,” there is a pause and some shuffling. “My mom isn’t here right now, but I think she said something about you. Are you sure you want to work at the shop? You didn’t … look good last time.”

I’m not sure what I want, but this is what Charlie wants. 

“Yeah. Do you need me to come in for like an interview or something?”

I hear a dry chuckle on the other line. “Well, it’s not like there are other applicants right now. You can just come over tomorrow and I can show you the shop, we can go over some details and see from there.”

“Yes.” 

“You’re not a big talker, huh? I figured as much. I’m not sure if you’ve been there before, but just follow the signs from the main road. I’ll be there.”

“Okay. I’ll come after school.” 

I’ll try to, at least. 

I hear a boy screaming in the background. “Leah, where did you put the Cheerios?”

“Alright, I gotta run. Bye.”

16th November 

Dear Alice, 

I don’t know why I’m writing to you, knowing this will surely never reach you. I guess I used to find something in putting down words, and I’m hoping it’s not gone. Even though you are.

It feels like you took something from me when you left. I guess you did in a way. Am I still on your mind? Or just another human that will wither away with time? I wonder what future you see for me now, and if you still think of me. If he still thinks of me, when he sees a bookstore or hears my name.

I know that I still do. I think of you every day and every minute, and it lingers like a bitter aftertaste. I think of you with every sunny day, with every rain shower and with every passing week. I think of you when I’m awake, and I dream of you when I fall asleep.

It’s so hard to be anywhere these days. It’s hard to just … continue? I’m trying, I swear. I just don’t know how to forget and move on.

I remember that you used to make me feel special. Worthy. Loved. No one else knew your secret but me. I was trusted to keep that part of you. It felt exhilarating, like I was chosen for this. For being with you. For this life.

And I still crave it. I still crave it you him.

Please come back to me. 

17th November 

I make the drive to La Push straight after school. It’s not like I have somewhere to be anyway. I have no real plans anymore. I put on the nicest shirt I have, which is not saying much, and pin my hair up into a bun. I feel ridiculous when I catch a sight of me in the side mirror. I don’t think blue is my color anymore.

As I make my way out of the parking lot, I realize I haven’t been in La Push in what seems like ages to me. I haven’t seen Jacob or Billy in months. I haven’t seen the kids I used to play with in years. I’m not sure that I even remember their names.

I try to think back to Leah Clearwater. Charlie mentioned her mother, Sue, and I know he goes fishing with her father sometimes. She must have a brother, too. She’s probably a year or two older than me and has maybe already graduated.

I don’t remember her from the summers I spent in Forks. I must have seen her a few times, but never enough to make a lasting impression. I wonder what impression she has of me. Charlie told me she was there when they found me in the forest. He hardly talks about that night, or really anything relating to them . 

The drive takes about 20 minutes and I follow the signs pointing to “Clearwater’s Coffee”. It is a short way from First Beach, located in a small blue building with big windows and a sun bleached roof. There are a few parking spots and I see a card stand next to the door as I park my truck.

I leave my bag in the passenger seat, check my face in the mirror (again) and make my way out of the car. There is soft music coming from the inside and the windows are open despite the chill temperatures. I wish I brought a jacket, but I don’t really own a nice one. 

The door chimes as I enter and take the room in. It seems even smaller from the inside. There are four tables, an information stand that seems like it could fall over any minute, and a glass counter filled with pastries. A few surf boards lean on the left wall.

“Bella Swan?”

I look at the counter. There is Leah, because that must be her. I think I’ve seen her before, because her face seems familiar. Her furrow brows and pursed lips don’t.

“Yeah. Hi,” I walk up to her and do a wave that can only be described as awkward. “That’s me.”

She surveys me for a few moments and mentions me to join her behind the counter. It’s a small space, and I find myself brushing her arm with my elbow. I shiver.

“Have you ever worked in a café?”

“Uhm, no. But I have worked at the hiking shop in Forks. And I cook all the time for Charlie.” 

Leah stares at me blankly. I bite my lip. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Alright,” she sighs. “I need some help and Mom wants to give you the job. Do you think you can handle weekends and some afternoon shifts for now? We don’t have that much traffic on weekdays, and Sue opens most mornings before she does late shifts at the hospital. I’m here whenever I can.”

I try to look enthusiastic and probably fail. “Yes, of course.”

“Ok, we’ll start Saturday. I’ll work you in.”

She gives me her number for emergencies, and I leave to cook dinner for Charlie (and me). I mark off another to do off my list.

19th November

That Saturday is my first day at my new job. Charlie was enthusiastic and promised to come by for a cup of coffee the next day. I finished most of my homework Friday evening and asked Angela to hang out after school next week. 

It still feels like I’m running on autopilot most of the time, but I’m at least not on standby anymore. I almost miss the numbness and the indifference now that I feel like a bubble waiting to burst at any given moment. But I’m mostly good and quiet.

The day is spent with instructions, demonstrations and reminders. “Don’t turn the key two times because it will jam.” “Remember to check the filters every day.” “Don’t let Seth get near the pastries.”

I think Charlie Dad must have talked to Leah because she has more patience with me than I would’ve thought. Apart from a sarcastic comment here and there she doesn’t comment much on my work. We still run into each other behind the counter and in the back room, like a machine that has just sprung to life and isn’t running smoothly yet.

After the shift, Leah offers to let me take some left-over pastries home for Dad. For a while I think she wants to ask me something, but she only says “See you tomorrow”, before locking the door after me.

20th November 

When I come back on Sunday, Leah is smoking a cigarette outside the door.

“Those things kill you, you know?” She scuffs. 

“I will kill you , if you keep annoying me.” 

I inhale a bit of the smoke, and it stings. 

“Can I have one?” She stares at me.

“You should get to work.”

Charlie doesn’t come by that day, but I pack him a cinnamon bun. I learn what a Cortado is, which apparently Leah likes to drink. I also learn that Leah is quite irritable and that by the end of the day I feel like I’m out of words to say. 

21th - 25th November 

I’m almost caught up with assignments at the start of next week. I should do some reading, but every time I sit down and open a book, my mind starts to wander. I ask Charlie to get it as an audiobook instead, since all my old CDs are gone anyway. I still don’t have a player in the truck.

I go over to Angela’s after school on Wednesday. We write our essays together, and she tells me about gossip at school and what colleges she’s applying to. It’s easy to be with her and I ask her to meet again. Still mostly for Charlie, but also partly for myself. 

When I walk home in the dark from her house it’s quiet, and I look up to watch the stars. Then I start hearing his voice again and start running.

26th November  

As I drive to work the next Saturday, I think about Leah. Leah and Sam. Sam and Leah. It feels like another piece of gossip hushed on bleachers and in cafeterias. Two love stories shattered to pieces. I wonder if he said words like that to her too. 

Leah’s playing music today. It’s old, and I mostly don’t recognize it, but it feels like her. It drowns out my thoughts, and I ask her to turn it up as I make an espresso. 

I sit on the porch at lunch with my legs swinging over the porch, while unwrapping a sandwich. The ocean is only a small distance away. It’s probably too cold to surf this time of the year, but there are still a lot of people visiting. I see someone hiking up the trail to the cliffs. 

Leah sits down next to me with an apple. She takes a pocket knife out of her jeans and starts slicing it into pieces. Her eyes are trained on the waves while she’s cutting them.

“You want any?” 

“Sure.” 

I eat my slice. It’s too sour.

“You know… you’re annoying, but you have good taste in music.”

I don’t tell her that I just don’t want the quiet anymore. “Thanks, I guess.”

“More?” She holds out another slice.

“Sure.”

I make a Cortado at the end of the day for Leah, and she tells me it’s almost drinkable.

And I still hear his words that night. “You’re not good enough for me.” After a while it shifts. His voice turns higher, less perfect. “No one will ever love you.” I think it almost sounds like me.

27th - 30th November 

Charlie comes over to the shop the next day. I make him a black coffee, which Leah says even I should be able to do, and give him a lemon square. He loudly says it’s the best coffee he’s ever had. Leah shares an apple with me again at lunch. This time it is red and sweet.

When I go to bed that night, I wonder if this is something everyone goes through. Is suffering the universal human experience? Is this all we can do, hurt ourselves or hurt others? It’s so much bigger than anything before . Or maybe I just love wrong. A little bit too much, too intense. Or maybe it’s just me.

I wonder if they suffer too. Maybe their nature saves them from succumbing to it. Then again, when I remember Rosalie’s anger and Jasper’s pain, they don’t seem content either.

I wonder if Leah still suffers. She shouldn’t. She doesn’t deserve this. The voice whispers that maybe I do.

Chapter Text

They expected me to find somewhere

Some perspective, but I sat and stared

1st December

The first snow of the season comes abruptly. I hadn’t even realized temperatures had dropped, and yet when I wake that morning, the street is covered in a thin layer of ice. It flashes white in the sun and makes me close my curtains.

The drive to La Push after school takes me 10 minutes longer than usual, the sun low on the horizon. Leah’s truck is already parked, and I hear music playing from the inside, some 80s rock song I can’t name. 

I go inside and drop my bag behind the counter. Leah is making a drink and I only see the back of her green shirt. Her hair is shorter.

“Sorry for being late. Weather.”

 Leah hums and I start cleaning the table. It’s almost empty today, so after the last guest leaves and no one else comes, Leah sits on the counter and starts reading something. 

“You’re just gonna stand there?”

“Huh?” She eyes me over the edge of her book.

“You don’t have any homework or something? I don’t mind if it’s not busy.” 

I shrug and she puts her book down.

“Alright then. Smoke break?” 

We go outside and sit on the stairs. The sun is almost down and the sky is painted in a deep orange. It reflects in her eyes. I look away.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” she says.

“What do you mean?” 

I still find myself quiet most days and out of words most days. I don’t know how to get them back.

“I’m bored,“ she answers, as that would explain everything. “Like… I smoked my first cigarette when I was 16.”

“Oh. I don’t know.” 

She laughs and I start fidgeting with my jacket.

“Come on, Swan. You got to have something. How about your time in Florida? Or why you lost your other job and your Dad had to sweet-talk my parents to get you this one?”

I swallow once. Twice.

“Is this an interrogation? If you want to ask me something, just ask.”

She sighs. “I guess not. The only things I know about you are town gossip. Maybe that’s the same for you about me.”

“I- don’t really know anything.” 

It’s true, mostly. I don’t know the whys and hows of how she got to be here.

“Something you’ve never told anyone before. Still your turn.” She puts her cigarette out in the sand.

“I hate the color blue. I can’t stand it.” Not anymore .

“Alright,” she laughs. “Not what I thought, but you got the spirit.”

I’m wondering if we should go back inside. It is freezing and another 30 minutes until closing time.

“How about this…” Leah shifts and I can feel her warmth next to me. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Sam.”

I nod. Her breath catches on my neck.

“They all think I’m angry. I guess I had that coming, after all the yelling and everything. Might’ve called me crazy, too. The crazy ex. It seemed easy, you know? To be angry. To fall into it. Clear.” She’s wrapping her arms around herself. The sky is too dark to reflect in her eyes now.

“It’s not easy. Nothing of this is. But anger is all I have. And my mom and Seth, they keep telling me to calm down or do something. But I can’t. I can’t stop.” There is a pause.

She looks at me for the first time since sitting down. “I didn’t really mean to say that. Sorry.” 

And suddenly the words are coming to me.

“Sometimes it still feels like his hands are still touching me. And mostly it is comforting, like maybe he will come back, or part of him will be with me. But sometimes it’s crushing and pulling me down and I’m slowly drowning in it.”

It feels weird to say this to Leah, who I’ve only really known for two weeks. But she doesn’t really know . Maybe she has never even seen him. 

“You know if I learned one thing … It’s nothing really lasts, does it?” She laughs again. It’s dark now, drenched in bitterness, and it leaves me even more freezing. She stands up and goes back inside.

When I drive home after closing up, it is snowing again. I can’t decide if the cold feels familiar or haunting. 

That is the first night I don’t dream of them . I dream of Victoria. When I wake up with a scream on my lips, I don’t go back to sleep. 

2nd December - 9th December 

On Friday, I first hear about the murders. Bodies found in the woods around Seattle, mauled. Charlie tells me to not go outside after dark and to come home straight after work. Something settles in my gut, like a deep and endless pit. 

I spend the weekend hauled up in the coffee shop. I’m caught up on school work now, my grades hanging at a B average. Old me would be disappointed. New me is just tired and scared.

Leah’s wearing an orange beanie on Saturday and playing Elton John, which I finally recognize. We don’t bump into each other anymore, and I almost know every drink on the menu now. I try to fall into a routine, to not think of red hair and terror.

“What’s your favorite song?” Leah asks that afternoon.

“I don’t really think I have one right now.”

“Who doesn’t have a favorite song? I’m starting to feel like you have the personality of a piece of toast.”

“That’s … not true.” Leah laughs.

“Whatever you say, Swan.”

Sunday is the day I first see Seth Clearwater. He’s not allowed to have coffee, because ‘he is annoying enough already’. He sits at the table in front of the window doing homework and giving me a thumbs-up when Leah turns around. I frown.

He leaves after bickering with Leah for a while, and she goes outside for a break. I pour myself my third cup of black coffee of the day and join her.

“Your brother seems nice.”

“You might change your mind on that if you see him enough.” 

“Oh,” I say. “I don’t think so, he seems like a good kid.”

Leah looks down. “He is. Might even get a track scholarship if he studies a bit more.” There is a glint of admiration and softness in her eyes. “Might even make it out of here.”

I wander around the block Monday morning before school. I don’t really sleep anymore. There are cold white hands everywhere I go. I smell their scent, sweet and burning. It smells like a warning.

They follow me Tuesday. And Wednesday. And every day of that week. Two more people dead. I’m watching the news every night and trying to memorize their names. “It will be as if I never existed.”

I dream of my name in the news next, flashing blood-red.

10th - 12th December 

I hardly make it to work on Saturday. I arrive 15 minutes late with squealing tires and a shirt that is probably too thin for December. Leah eyes me warily over the purple scarf she is wearing. I grimace.

It’s hard to keep awake. Victoria is haunting me in my dreams and now even when I’m conscious. The worst times are when she’s not alone, when amber eyes flicker and small white arms wrap around me, threatening to crush my ribs. I try to breathe.

“You good?”

“I-” I look at Leah and I notice a soft scent of flowers. “Sorry, just stressed.”

“Hmm.” She’s cleaning a cup and lays the towel on her shoulder. “Want another coffee?”

“Um. Yeah, sure. Thanks.” When she pushes it over on the counter, I realize she smells like Wisteria. I think of the blanket crumpled on my bed and blush for the first time in forever.

My truck breaks down after work on Sunday. My mind flickers to Rosalie for a second, and how she would probably laugh. I cry.

Leah finds me when she’s locking the door. “Something up?”

I get out and wipe my cheeks. I pretend I don’t notice how she looks away. “The truck isn’t starting.”

She looks at it and back to me. “I can call Jacob? He’ll probably fix it for free. There is a bus station near his house, too.”

“You’re… helping me?” 

She scoffs. “What kind of shitty person do you think I am? I’m not gonna leave you in front of my family’s coffee shop, stranded.”

“I just thought you wouldn’t… didn’t like me.”

She closes the truck door with a slam and takes her phone out of her back pocket. “Don’t let this get to your head.”

I take the bus to La Push on Monday, even though I don’t have a shift. I walk to Jacob’s. The truck is in his garage now and there is a radio playing the news. I change the station.

It’s easy to listen to him talk. He’s trying to explain what’s wrong, but mostly I just try to focus on the warmth of his voice and add a comment here and there or hand him things I don’t know.

I realize I haven’t really seen him in months, or even at all, since moving back to Forks. He says the truck will be fixed in a few weeks and I can come over whenever I want. I try to smile and he laughs. I sleep a little more that night.

13th December 

Alice used to argue that time is like a river, running in a line, with branches determining the different futures. I think that maybe she got it wrong. I think time is a circle, ever-repeating and slowly shrinking in a tight spiral around me.

My tragedies laid out and repeated over the years, being unlovable and alone. It drives me closer to the center of despair and hopelessness, where Victoria is waiting for me with open arms.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” Leah says on Tuesday evening.

“I think I deserve this.”

This time, she gives me a cigarette when I ask.

14th December 

Dear Alice,

I’m scared. I was nothing for a long time. Then I was sad. Now I’m terrified. I feel everything too much and not at all, and I’m entirely unequipped to deal with it. This is all too big for me.

There are people dying. I can’t tell anyone. But I know she is coming back for me. And you’re not here. Maybe it should be my name instead, just so this all would end. Would you come for me then?

I don’t really know what to do. What if it’s Charlie next? Or Jacob? Or Leah? Does she know you’re not here anymore? Where should I go to for help? I can’t do this on my own.

I was thinking about leaving yesterday. I used to hate it in Forks. I was once close to getting out of here. With you. With him. Now I’m not sure where I would be going and if it would change anything.

I’m waiting. No one knows I’m here, but still I’m waiting. I don’t know what I’m doing here without you.

I wonder if you would come to my funeral.

Please come back.

Chapter Text

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

15th December - 19th December

I wander the streets in the morning. It strikes me that I never really went out on my own anymore after him . It feels as if I’m walking the roads for the first time again, taking in the cold and how truly different it is to Phoenix, to before. I buy a new jacket, purple and nothing I would have ever picked out before. It feels nice and warm.

I go to work and to school. I fall into routine. I start sitting with people at lunch again, even though I’m not really engaging in their conversations. Charlie and I go to the diner sometimes. I change the curtains and read the book on my nightstand. I realize I don’t like reading romance anymore.

I grow to tolerate the in-betweens. The time between school and a shift spent on the bus, cleaning tables in the shop with Leah’s music, walking to Jacob’s. I make coffee and pretend to laugh at people’s jokes. Sometimes it doesn’t even feel like a lie. 

On Saturday I help Leah put up Christmas lights at the front door, after she apparently admitted defeat in an argument about it with her mother. I notice how much taller she is than me. I let her hang the parts I can’t reach and watch her from behind the counter. She is wearing a red cardigan and there is a thin paperback in the back pocket of her gray jeans.

Little candy canes adore the counter and there is even a small plastic tree in the corner. As Leah is sporting a constant sour expression, these must also be Sue’s doing. I make a note to get some decoration for the living room at home. Maybe Charlie has something in the attic, too.

I go over to Jacob’s after my shift on Sunday. He’s working on the truck, but for the first time since I started visiting, he’s not alone. I try to remember when the next bus comes and if it’s too late to leave. I feel ridiculous.

“Oh, are you Bella?” There’s a boy on the chair I usually sit in, with shoulder-length hair and a long face. “I’m Embry.”

“Yeah. That’s me. If you’re busy, I can … leave?” Jacob turns away from the car to look at me. I try to see if he’s angry at me showing up, but he’s smiling and wiping his hands on an unspeakably dirty towel.

“Nonsense. Embry here is helping out a little.” Jacob laughs. “Really, he is just burning through my fridge and being annoying. Your presence is preferred.”

“Hey!” Embry yells in protest, but Jacob throws the towel in his direction and he stays silent.

“I think Seth is coming later. Maybe Leah too, her Mom sometimes forces her to come with her brother. Quil is busy.” I’m not sure if I know who Quil is, but I don’t ask. I idly wonder if Leah would like to see me outside of work.

Maybe we’re strictly colleagues, or just work friends. I don’t know what our context outside the shop is. Would she like to talk to me here? Maybe I should reconsider taking the next bus.

I try to fall back into the routine I’ve grown accustomed to with Jacob. Listening to explanations, grabbing things, nodding along. After a while, it starts to rain, and we decide to take a break. Jacob tells me we’re making good progress.

It doesn’t take long after for a dripping Seth Clearwater to show up, with Leah close behind him. I hope the book is not in her pocket anymore.

“Jake, do you maybe have a towel?” Seth asks while they enter the garage. He shakes his hair out and Leah shrieks.

“Sure. One second.” Before I can offer help or say anything, Jacob has left for the house.

“Careful! If you have to drag me along, at least be a tiny bit considerate,” Leah shoots at her brother.

“Hi, um, do you need any help or something?” I stare at Leah’s drenched hair and give a small wave. She blinks at me.

“I’ll just wait for the towel.” 

She leans on the wall next to me, raindrops falling down her cheeks.

“So… what was that book you had earlier?” 

“What?” Her brows furrow.

“In your pocket.”

“Oh. Just a novel. Virginia Woolf.”

I smile. “I like her! Have you read Emily Brontë? That’s my favorite.”

Before she can answer, Jacob returns with two towels, and Embry jumps up from his seat.

“Jake, you won’t believe this. Leah has a friend.”

Jake looks between me and Leah and laughs.

“Actually being sociable? Doesn’t sound like the Leah I know.” 

“Shut up, both of you,” Leah snarls. 

“Ah, there she is.”

I feel my cheeks blush and don’t try to start a conversation again after that. When it’s time to catch the last bus going to Forks, I gather my jacket and say goodbye to everyone. 

“Text me when you get home,” Leah says. 

20th December 

Dear Alice,

I’m alone in my room. And I should be sleeping or working on homework or doing anything. But there is always this itch in the back of my head. I’m afraid.

I’m afraid I’ll never see you again. I’m afraid to die. I’m afraid to live like this. Forever . A lifetime.

I feel like every day tears me apart, and I am made and remade continually, but never quite right. Like I’m just a shell tied together at the wrong places. I fear.

I fear to be invisible. I fear to disappear. What if I just walk of into the woods and gave her what she wants? Will she stop?

I fear to be seen. I fear to be seen and found unsightly. I fear no one will ever truly know me, look at all there is to me, and still decide to love me.

You were my everything, and I wish I could just be something for you. I can change anything about me to fit in. You can take anything I have. Maybe you already have.

I still wake up with things to tell you. I guess I am still telling you in a way, right? I wonder if you’re seeing these words as I’m typing them. If you ever will.

I want to find you. I want to run to you. Sometimes I almost do.  But I was yours in a way you weren’t mine, wasn’t I? And I will never have you again.

Will I ever have anyone again?

I miss you. Please come back.

21st - 23rd December 

The sun comes up, and I’m looking at the frost on the window. The sky is painted in purples and oranges and I imagine myself seeing a thousand more sunrises. I wonder if it would look different then and if I would stop admiring it after a while. Once it’s nothing new anymore.

After school I go up to spend the afternoon with Jacob. We talk for a while and I help a bit with the truck, this time with no one joining us. I realize then it’s easy to be silent around him, with just the radio in the background and the sounds of metal clicking against each other. 

It makes me think about the times where silence was thick and heavy and any time I had nothing to say I feared to seem inadequate and inexplicably young. Like a new toy that had lost its first springs of excitement. It makes me wonder if that’s all I ever was.

The next day I go out in the forest. It’s dark and gloomy again, so I don’t go too far. It’s only when the sun catches on a tree and glows red that I realize I shouldn’t go out at all. But I don't turn around. What difference does it make anymore?

I tell myself her victims aren’t dying because of me. She would be killing anyway. But I know that it is really me she wants and I can’t hide behind excuses much longer. 

I don’t even go near the meadow. It looms over me like a constant reminder of him everything. There’s a feeling buried out there I may never reach again. I don’t know if I want to or not.

On Friday, I prepare dinner for me and Charlie. He asks me if I have anything planned for Christmas. I promise to make dinner and he says he will make breakfast. He has to go to the station for a while. I tell him it’s okay. I tell myself he’s safe there.

I spent the evening reading, wrapped up in a blanket smelling like home.

24th December 

Leah's birthday is today. I know because Jacob told me, but warned me she did not like the attention or getting fussed about. I spent the day at the shop, like I do every weekend now. I slide a badly wrapped version of Wuthering Heights into her bag, highlighted with a few parts I thought she would like. Smashed between the pages is a single Wisteria flower I bought at the florist shop.

After closing, we end up sitting on a tree trunk at the shore-line. I pick up a few stones and start throwing them at the crashing waves. 

“Would we still be friends?” A stone lands in front of us with a soft blob.

“Oh, so we’re friends now?” She looks at me. I keep looking at the ocean. “What do you mean?”

“If… Sam hadn’t left. If I hadn’t started working at the shop.”

“You mean if I was still the happy little girlfriend?” She huffs. “You know, I think I’m better off without him.”

“You would have grown bored of him,” I say before I can catch myself.

“Maybe,” she laughs. “I’m way more interesting.” It sounds almost like a joke, but I don’t think it is. She is the most interesting thing to happen to me in months. But I don’t say that.

“I don’t think love is worth it,” I say instead.

“What?”

“This,” I gesture to me and then to her. I throw another rock but it sinks immediately. “We could get out of here, you know? Leave this town and never come back. Move to the city, get a job, an apartment, a cat.”

Leah chuckles. “I don’t have a choice but to stay here.” I’m not sure if she is talking about the shop, Seth, or herself. “I’m also more of a dog person.”

I manage to make a stone skip twice before it sinks. It’s so dark now that I can only see the stars and her lit cigarette. It must be a new moon.

“What do you want, Bella Swan?”

For them to come back. To Leave. No one dying because of me. “I don’t know.”

“It’s like you’re mourning a grave, you know that?” There are no more stones in my hands to throw. “Who are you really mourning; him or the version of yourself you lost?”

Chapter Text

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be

25th December 

I spent Christmas morning with Charlie, exchanging presents and listening to Christmas songs on the radio. He gifts me a few books and a new plant. It seems that my old cactus has died without me noticing. I give him a tin of cookies and a maroon knitted sweater. I see snow falling from the kitchen window, lying peacefully on the asphalt. I don’t turn on the news.

Later, we sit together at breakfast over black coffee and eggs and bacon that is burned at the edges. I will not go into the coffee shop today, since it’s closed. It’s the first Sunday in forever I will be home again. I notice Charlie eying me over the edge of his chipped cup proclaiming him “Best Dad”. It must be 10 years old at this point.

“You haven’t seen your friends in a while, have you? Everything okay?”

“Um, sure.” I stand up to put my empty plate into the kitchen, so he doesn’t have to see my face while I’m lying. “In fact I’m going to the movies with some of them tomorrow.”

We end up playing a game of Clue, which I hopelessly lose, and listening to classic Christmas songs on the radio. It makes me aware of everything that I missed and might still, and I remind myself to make more of an effort with Charlie. To make more efforts with my friends, too, at least while I still have some. 

After, he excuses himself to the station. Once the dishes are done, I pick up the phone to call Jessica, Angela and Mike. I have talked with them the last few weeks, but not enough to warrant my sudden interest in hanging out again. In the end, they are all surprised and only Mike has time to meet me on short notice. Part of me cringes at the idea of going with him alone, but we agree on a time for now.

Finding myself with nothing else to do, I decide to head to Jacob’s. I pull on a thick beanie and gloves and get myself situated on the bus. La Push is a vision of white, red and green with christmas lights and laughter and talk spreading from behind closed windows. I make my way over to Billie’s and find Jacob in the living room. Sitting next to Leah and Seth.

I almost halt in my step, but force myself to make an effort to be social. I greet everyone and sit down on the floor, trying to engage in small talk but ending up mostly quiet again.

I think about the girl who I was supposed to be. Maybe in a normal life, I would have been right here at Jacob’s side, holding his hand and talking with his friends. A friendship turned love story, one for the pages. I try to imagine myself growing old with him. Gray hairs, rocking chairs on a porch, grandchildren visiting.

It feels impossible now. All that sorrow and pain and I'm just supposed to live a normal human life? It seems pointless now. Maybe I'm just as unchanging as him, as they are, now. I'll always be the sad little teenage girl, waiting on her knees in the forest for her savior to come back to her.

I swallow dryly. Jacob catches my attention by throwing a bundle of newspaper at me. As I catch it, I realize there is something nestled in between.

“I made a little something for you. I was hoping I could get the truck ready in time, but maybe this makes it up a little bit.”

I notice Leah and Seth staring at me, as I slowly unpack a small wooden wolf. Hand carved.

“You didn’t have to Jake. I didn’t get anything for you.” I wring my fingers in my lap. 

“Nonsense, I thought you might need it,” he winks at me. “Maybe it will help you to not get lost in the woods again.”

I notice Leah eying him from her side of the couch, while Seth is complaining that he didn’t get anything. Conversation trickles on for a bit after that, while I fidget with the wolf in my hands.

Jacob shakes me out of my thoughts again a while later. “So -  we have a bonfire with everyone next week. Wanna come, Bella?”

“Would I be welcome?” I ask. Jacob looks between me and Leah. I frown.

“Yes, sure.” 

“Okay then, I guess. Not like I have much planned,” I remember part of why I came to visit. “I actually wanted to ask if you  would maybe like to go to the movies tomorrow?”

“I can’t, promised Dad to help clean the house,” he grins sheepishly. “I heard Leah is free.”

I look over at her quickly. “Would you like to? It would be a huge favor, I don’t really wanna go alone with Mike and give him the wrong idea.”

“Mike?”

“A friend from school.”

She furrows her brows. “I could make it maybe. But you’ll buy popcorn and no romance movies.”

“I’m not free, if anybody cares,” Seth chimes in.

26th - 28th December 

The next day Mike picks me up to go to the cinema. We meet Leah there and I’m still a bit surprised she actually came. She’s wearing a leather jacket and a purple scarf, snowflakes caught in her shoulder length hair. 

We pick a movie and get popcorn. I make good on my promise and buy her a small salted box, while Mike is convinced we should share nachos. I politely decline.

After we leave the theater, Leah and I wait outside while Mike goes to the restroom. The sun has since set and Leah lights a cigarette from her pocket.

“So… you’re moving fast. He doesn’t even seem like your type,” she smiles smugly, while brushing snow out of her hair with her other hand.

“You think you're really funny, huh?”

“I think I’m hilarious.”

“You are,” I find myself saying before I can stop it.

“Not even a good comeback, huh?” She steps on the cigarette bud. “As expected. Well, there are certainly worse than you, Swan.” She eyes Mike, who is returning, a smile plastered widely on his face.

“So … fun evening, am I right ladies?” 

I hear Leah groan beside me.

Wednesday I spend holed up in my room, reading and wrapped up in my blanket. The day after I go to the bonfire in La Push, taking an early bus and almost checking on the coffee shop out of habit. Of course it is closed today, and I make my way down to the beach, where a small crowd has already gathered. Jacob waves and beckons me to sit down next to him.

There are a few people around I recognize, but I shuffle close to Jake, relieved to know at least one person better. The elders are at the top end of the circle and as Billy clears his throat, I see Leah and Seth rush in out of the corner of my eye, taking seats beside me. I feel myself shuffling nervously again.

Billy is illuminated in red and orange as he tells the legends of the Quileute. He weaves through folklores of Cold Ones, descendents of wolves and ancient history. Knowing that I believed vampires to be a fictional story only a year ago makes the hairs on my arms stand up. I think back to what Jake told me about Sam and his friends and how they sit next to each other across from me, close to Leah’s father.

The fire turns blue from the salt as the story goes on, giving the assembly an eerie glow and sending a shiver down my spine.

I think about Sam disappearing and about Emily and the scars across her face. I try to not think about Leah beside me. I feel the world lurch around me. Was there ever any story, any legend that did not hold an ounce of truth?

As Billy is talking about the feud between them, I feel Leah growing rigid. I look at her, and notice her gaze glued across the fire. On Sam and Emily, holding hands and leaning against each other.

“I’m gonna go catch a breath real quick.” She is up and gone before I know, and somehow I feel myself following after her, despite Jacob’s worried glance.

“Leah, wait,” I quicken my steps to keep up with her. She is steadily putting distance between herself and the others, who I can hardly hear anymore above the crashing waves.  “I’m sorry. I- Can I do anything for you?”

I manage to touch her elbow and she hurls around. Her eyes glow almost black in the moonlight. I notice blankly how much taller she is than me, maybe even more so than him . She straightens her arms and then wraps them around herself.

“Everything is fine. No need to make a scene. Although that might be unusual for you.” I see a bitter edge to her gaze and swallow dryly. 

“I can leave if you want. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I don’t need you or your help. I don’t need you to care for me or whatever it is that you’re doing. I have other people to care for and I can’t deal with this.”

Her unspoken “ with you ” hangs between us. There is a pause and when she scoffs and jogs away, I feel like I have missed the point to answer.

“Someone should also care for you,” I whisper into the dark. Maybe it can be me.

29th December 

Dear Alice,

I think I have someone. She’s not like you. She’s not like anyone, really. But she’s mine    my friend. It feels wrong to say this. Like it’s only true if I keep it to myself and never acknowledge it.

And I like her. And part of me wants to stop. To fall into the numb again. To not feel a thing, because nothing can hurt me like that. I’m so tired of being hurt. Being sad. Being scared. Being nothing.

I probably would be no good for her anyway. She has her own issues to deal with. She does not need anyone like me to be her friend or anything else.

I don’t even know if she likes me like that. It feels silly to say it like this. I guess I’m not really interesting or fun to be around these days. I wonder what drew you him in the first time. Was it my blood? Or my thoughts? Did you see everything before it happened? Was it all just an elaborate theater piece for you, repeating the scenes you already saw?

Did you see it all and still let it happen like this? What did you really know? Do you see me typing this to you? Do you ignore it? Do you think me pathetic? Silly, idiotic, human. Was it all supposed to go like this?

Do you see Victoria? The humans she kills in my place? I can see them.  I see the numbers of those murdered and those missing. What is she doing, now that you’re gone? What will she do to me?

Will you come then?

30th December 

The ocean is brushing against the cliff, almost loud enough that I can’t hear Leah approaching me. The metal of the bench is cold beneath me and if I hadn’t had an uncomfortable morning trying to avoid her, I would not have gone outside for my break.

“You know, sometimes I think I make people hate me so it’s easier when they leave,” she moves closer to my side. “I mean to say I’m sorry, by the way.”

This morning I dropped a bottle of hazelnut syrup and I can still smell it on my hands as I wrap them around my arms. I think about what to answer, but only one option really comes to my mind.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she wraps her hands around the cool metal of the bench until I see them turn white. “I’m sorry. I should take responsibility if I’m wrong, when I expect others to do it, too. And you should not let others walk all over you.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess. Thank you,” I offer her my hand.

Hers feels warm in mine, despite the frigid temperatures and for a second I hesitate to pull back.

“You know Bella Swan, I don't like most people. But I think I could tolerate you.”

Chapter Text

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

31st December - 1st January (Saturday - Monday)

I didn’t plan much for New Year’s. Part of me hates to see another year tick by, part of me wonders how they will be spending it but mostly I want it to be over with. I make an effort for Charlie, as usual. A decent dinner split on the good plates and watching the countdown on the TV. I still can’t shake the feeling of melancholia. 

At some point Charlie turns to me. “You should make a resolution. You know… get out a bit? Pick up a hobby again? We could look for some summer classes?”

I only nod in response. I know he is just trying to help. To get me back to myself. I try to think of a way back. To before. What would be before this, really? Before ever even meeting him? Before the birthday party disaster? Before moving to Forks?

How can I go back? I think about the ripped out radio in the truck. About all the things he took from me. About their house, empty on the end of the driveway. Hidden under snow and darkness, an empty carcass of glass and wood. Images of red hair and predatory smiles flatter through my mind. I push them away.

I think about Leah instead. Her burning anger, restlessness and inability to move on, just like me. Not the same. But maybe two sides of the same coin. I think about what she would do. I think about whether she would leave me just as easily. I think about missing her. 

I stand up and go to the landline, only catching a questioning gaze from Charlie before he focuses back on the news currently playing on the TV. The line connects after two rings. “Clearwater.”

“Leah… how do you feel about breaking and entering?”

Leah is already waiting by the door as I pull in, flashlights clacking together on the passenger seat of Charlie’s cruiser. I feel ridiculous for taking it, but it was almost too easy to convince him to let me go meet some friends. 

I didn’t even give Leah a reason. In truth, I can hardly imagine it myself. Just to check in, just to see, just to be sure. Be sure of what? That they’re really actually gone and not just hiding from me? Like some sort of obscure magic trick and they would just come back in a poof of smoke.

Maybe part of me wants to light a beacon, make myself big and conceivable after being so small and gray for such a long time. Maybe I want to force them to come back, even though the idea that they would care for human attributes such as real estate is almost laughable. Maybe it is actually Victoria I want to force out. Maybe I just want to stop being sad and start being angry instead.

I greet Leah and we make our way to the door. I think about what Charlie would say. He can’t have been thinking of this with a new hobby. The thought of them coming back because of me breaking and entering their home almost makes me laugh. Maybe me and Leah could take off in the Cruiser, like some bad movie.

“So… what exactly is the plan here?” Leah asks beside me. 

“Have you ever been out here?”

“Can’t really say I’ve had the pleasure. Not really my area, I wouldn’t usually be caught around mansions as small as this, but I’ll make an exception for you. Do you have a key?”

I shake my head. “No. But you learn a few things as the daughter of a police chief.”

The funny thing about vampires is that they seemingly don’t care for security. The door is open in a few minutes and there is no security system, no cameras, no alarm. I feel silly for waiting all this time to come back. Maybe I could have caught them moving out. That feels even sillier. 

I pass the  entry to the kitchen and the living room. Most of the furniture is gone, what is left hidden under white fabric, glowing eerily in the light of my flashlight. The walls are almost blank, the air stale and cold. If it weren’t for Leah close behind me, I would’ve probably turned around.

I square my shoulders. I try to remember what I came here for. I find myself staring at the graduation cap display, left behind for some reason. Maybe it doesn’t have sentimental value. I guess I didn’t either. I choke down a sob.

I feel Leah put her hand on my arm. “You know Bella, I think it is time you learn something.”

“And what is that?”

“That’s it’s okay to be a bitch sometimes, if they deserve it. You deserve to be angry. I think you should be absolutely furious.”

I suppress a laugh. “You know, I’m kinda doing this because Charlie told me to pick up a hobby.”

“And instead of maybe knitting or surfing your thirst thought is criminal activity? How very unlike you, Miss Swan.”

“I guess I have changed.”

She smiles. “I like it.”

I realise he didn’t want me to change. To be changed. He wanted me to stay as little human Bella, Isabella , content with a human life. Contained. Small.  But I had already changed. He left anyway and he took a part of me. I tell myself I don’t feel small and unimportant anymore. Perhaps if I repeat it enough it will drown his voice out.

“I don’t understand why you’re still doing this to yourself.”

I want to say I don’t have another choice. But that’s not the truth. “To be honest, neither do I.”

“That’s a good start. Don’t spend your life standing by the sidelines, especially for someone who would hurt you like that.”

“How do you do it, then?” I think about Sam and Emily. I think about how maybe he will someday have someone to replace me, too.  “I don’t even know how to get through this winter. I feel like I’ve been standing at the edge of a cliff forever.”

“I don’t think I’m the best person to answer that. You just have to live through one winter, and another and another. And sometimes it’s just about taking a dive and hoping you come up for air.”

“A dive, huh?” I go back to the kitchen. The fridge is hauntingly empty, but there are still plates and glasses left in the cabinets. I guess there was no need to take them, one way or another. I glance at Leah, who is looking at me expectantly.

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

I take a plate from the stack. It was probably never used. Leah nods at me and I take a breath. I feel so silly. I let it drop and it bursts into a million pieces on the dark hardwood floor.

“Oh come on, you can do better than that,” Leah says and points her flashlight at the rest still left in the cabinet.

I drop my light and grab other pieces. I feel my mind go blank. I try not to hear his voice in the back of my mind. This is not you, Bella . Part of me wishes he were here right now. I want to show him how wrong he was about me. How wrong they all were. 

I imagine his face on the floor, as I smash glass after glass on it. I imagine throwing them at Victoria, despite never really being able to hurt her. I wish I was. I wish I was actually able to do something. Something more than being gloomy, being angry, acting like a little kid who got her favorite toy taken away.

“Bella, are you bleeding?”

I feel myself coming back. The floor is covered in porcelain and glass. There is a small piece stuck on the inside of my hand, blood slowly dropping on the floor. Instinctively I look back at Leah, expecting her to snarl and begin to move away. I almost laugh at the irony. I can feel tears on my cheeks, which must have started at some point. 

“It’s okay, I’ll check if I can fix it real quick.”

I go to Carlisle's office, hoping to find some sort of emergency kit left behind. In the end the drawers are empty and the furniture hidden beneath white cloth, too. I turn to leave when I see the portrait over the love seat, stark and vibrant against the covered items and blank wall. A sheet below indicating it was once covered, but is now staring back at me from the wall.

I reach out to touch it, and forget my hand is still bleeding until there is a crimson print below the faces of the three men pictured in the middle. Behind them is Carlisle, though hard to recognise through the different clothing and age of the painting. I imagine this is what he must have looked like long before Edward was even born. Right below there is an inscription reading ‘Volterra, Italy’.

“ You don't irritate the Volturi, ” His words ring in my ears. “ Not unless you want to die. ”

Did I? It didn’t feel like it anymore. I could feel the sorrow giving away to anger, just like Leah said. I could feel the despair itching under my skin. Any maybe, maybe for the first time since the clearing, a small sliver of hope. Perhaps there were more options than life or death.

2nd - 9th January 

The next day Jacob calls and tells me he got the truck fixed. After a quick breakfast with Charlie, I take the next bus out and make sure to grab him donuts on the way. It is unusually sunny and I lay my head against the window, overlooking the green and white scenery. The sun is already setting as I make my way back with the truck, after spending some time with Jake. I can’t wait for the winter to be over.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. I think about walking around the block. I think about going into the forest and running until I’m caught by stone arms and a vision of red. I think about just disappearing. I think about Charlie sleeping two doors down, who has to get up early for a shift tomorrow.

I pick up the phone to call Leah, before I can think about how calling at a time like this will look. Again. I feel myself shrink into myself as the line connects, feeling small and intolerable. I push it aside. The line connects with a crack. I take a dive.

“So, you got anything fun planned tonight? How about a midnight drive with my newly fixed truck? I promise to be at least decent company.”

***

Leah is beside me, her hair flowing from the wind of the open window. It’s freezing outside, but she doesn’t seem to care. I don’t feel angry anymore. I feel wide awake. I open my window too.

“Should we just keep driving?” I ask.

“Sure,” she drums her hand on the door.“If you could pick anywhere in the whole world, where would you go?”

I think about where I would have gone a year ago. Where I would have gone 4 months ago. I think about going to them. I don’t know where they are, of course. Would I go if I knew? They wouldn’t welcome me back with open arms. Maybe a braver version of me would go just to tell them to go to hell.

“Probably somewhere warmer.”

“That’s not hard to achieve. You should get higher standards.”

“Where would you go?”

“I don’t think leaving is in the cards for me.”

“Humour me.”

She shakes her head, the ends of her hair flashing around in a wisp. She must have cut it shorter again.

“Leah… if you had a chance to escape all of this, would you? Start a better life, maybe the one you wanted?”

“What has gotten you so philosophical? Anything I should tell Charlie?”

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel, in sync with hers. I’m on the road back to La Push now, to bring her back home.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” I can feel her look at me, but I keep my eyes glued on the road. “It’s always something with you, isn’t it?”

I almost don’t answer. We’re only a few minutes from her house and I could just drop it. I want to drop it. But it’s Leah. A part of me is scared she’ll mock me, a part of me wants her to, so I can be held accountable. I realize I just want any reaction she’ll give me. Anything better than swallowing the words down the back of my throat.

“I feel like I’m disappearing, bit by bit. And in a while there will be nothing of me left. No one to care, no one to remember.”

She hums. “I’m your friend. I’ll remember.”

“Really? I don’t even feel you like me that much. No offense.”

I pull into her driveway as she closes the window and laughs.

“I’ll make sure of it, Swan.”

“I don’t think there is much use.”

“There is to me. You are my friend.”

10th January

Dear Alice,

I visited you. Well, not really you anymore, right? It felt more like a tomb anyway. I wonder where all the photos went. Did you take them with you? Like he did with everything else?

Are they adorning a new house by now? Is it routine for you now? Move, new house, redecorating. Reinventing yourselves. Blending in. Repeating the same 5 years over and over again. 

I wonder what's worse - if it's still somewhere or if you threw it all away. I guess it's all the same anyway. Sooner or later you’ll leave everyone everything behind.

I realised I never really thought much about how my life would be as one of you. I would be with him, of course. With you. Would I go to school over and over again? Stay in the house, staring at the same walls for eternity? Pick up gardening? 

One of Carlisle's proteges, adjusting to a “vegetarian” diet and of course awfully regretting every slip up. Maybe making me hate part of myself. Forever. Always holding back, always afraid of the next mistake. Moving again and again and again. But he would be there, no? Would he?

Do you think he could have watched me become the very thing he hated? Hates like himself. Was there ever any truth in the future you saw? Maybe you could have told me anything and I would have believed you.

I would have believed you.

11th - 13th January 

Leah Clearwater's walls are painted a pale blue, almost like a cornflower. I try to imagine her picking that color, but she seems too dark and stern to fit it now. There is a deep purple blanket folded up on her bed and music coming from a speaker on top of her dresser. 

I feel too awkward to sit next to her on the bed, so pull out the chair beneath her desk, which is covered in stacks of books. There are old cups littering the surfaces and posters above her headboard. It feels nothing like their house.

I sit and watch her read the book I gifted her. I brought a book too, a little reading meetup. But I find myself staring at her. The quiet feels warm and comfortable. I can almost feel the sun setting later today.

“Bella?”

I fiddle with the book in my hand and try to not look like I just got caught staring.  

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think I’m a good person? Maybe Sam and I are not so different. It used to feel like we we’re equals, so if I hate him what does that make me?”

I want to say ‘You are so lovely and I'm sorry he made you think otherwise.’

But all I can manage is “You’re so much better than him.”

She laughs. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

I can’t. “I’ll try to.”

“Thank you for tolerating me, Bella. I know it’s not always easy.”

“Always.” 

For you, always.

Chapter Text

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

And you're sitting in front of me

14th - 18th January 

The time I first see it is at the grocery store. I have taken to not watching the news, trying to ignore anything going on. I don’t look at the newspaper Charlie brings in and block out the conversations at school. But I can’t ignore the missing persons posters plastered on the lamp posts in the parking lot.

Some kid from Seattle, barely older than me. I try to rationalize it. People go missing every day, it doesn’t have to do anything with Victoria. Maybe by now she has realized they have left, that I’m not interesting on my own, not even enough to make them come back. Maybe she has given up on me. Just like they did. 

But part of me knows it’s not true. I don’t need Alice’s talent to know that she’s still here, because of him and because of me. A clean break. It doesn’t feel clean at all.

The next day, Charlie tells me we are invited to Dinner at Harry’s. Leah’s. The Clearwaters. It’s not an unusual occurrence for him to go, but he tells me I was specifically requested to join. I don’t ask by whom, but I’m glad for the chance to get out. I feel safer in La Push nowadays, at least a little bit.

By now I’m familiar with the house too, having stayed over a few times after work. I almost smile when we sit at the table, Leah beside me and Charlie and Harry in front of me. I wonder if she would ever consider me her best friend, just like Charlie does with her father. It almost feels like this was how it was always supposed to be.

If I had grown up in Forks instead of Arizona, perhaps Leah and I would have been inseparable by now. I imagine never meeting Edward Cullen or any of the Cullens. Staying over in La Push, Leah teaching me how to surf and pranking her little brother. Watching the sunset at First Beach, starting our first jobs at the coffee shop together. Telling her not to date Sam, neither of us getting our hearts broken.

I spend most of the dinner stuck in my head, until I feel Leah kicking me slightly beneath the table. I notice her plate is empty and conversation is beginning to die down. Charlie is not too different from me after all. 

Leah clears her throat. “Before you leave, I’ll show Bella something in my room real quick.” 

I see Seth opening his mouth, for what I assume was to be a joke, before Leah boxes him into the arm and runs up the stairs before her mother can yell at her. Seth rubs his arm, still smiling. “Maybe that one was deserved.”

“You’re coming or what, Swan?” I hear from upstairs.

I follow after Leah, the steps squeaking under my weight. There are no graduation caps here, but the walls are plastered in family photos and fish decor. I open Leah’s door, noticing marks detailing her and Seth’s height on the frame. 

Leah is staring out the window, her back turned to me. “I got something for you.”

She turns around and stuffs a badly folded blanket into my hands. “You never gave mine back, so I figured maybe you want your own.”

I feel myself blush. The fabric is soft beneath my hands, a warm purple just like the one crumpled on my bed. I resist the urge to unfold it. “I have nothing to give back to you.”

“That’s alright,” she smiles. “You can make it up to me, I’m sure.”

“I’ll do my best,” I cradle the blanket against my chest. “You should come over for dinner soon. I mean, I’m sure Charlie would love to have you.”

“He would, huh? I’ll mark it in my calendar. Take care, Bella.”

***

I remember what he said to me before he left. Don’t do anything rash, at least for Charlie’s sake. That’s not what Leah said, but it still rings heavier in me than his words all those weeks ago. Even after driving home, bleeding into the day after. I don’t want to disappoint her. I don’t want to hurt her. I know she has been through enough, even if she would never admit it.

Still I can’t seem to take her words to heart. Not with everything going on, panic and fear and guilt following me from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I almost think fondly of the nothing from before. But I don’t want to go back, not anymore. I’m angry at them, at her, for taking all my progress, all the color I gained back. Just like that.

I’m angry at them for involving me in their vampire battles, like there was any way for me to not lose. I can’t imagine any way this whole scenario would end without me dying. The only question remaining is how many innocent people would have to before me.

And maybe I don’t want that to be my fault anymore. Maybe I’m just panicking and not thinking. Maybe I’m tired of my life being a never ending tragedy. But despite Leah’s words and every intention of following them, because I don’t want to follow his words again, I find myself at the top of the cliff in La Push.

It’s unreasonably sunny. I should be at a shift in the coffee shop by now. Instead I took another turn and ended up here. The sky is almost cloudless, the waves seem small and lazy. I look down below, and hear all those words ringing back in my ears.

A clean break.

For Charlie’s sake.

Take care.

It is Leah’s words bringing me back. “What are you doing?”

I almost take a step forward and fall. Almost. My thoughts are spinning around wildly, even more so than before. I look back at her. Her gaze is angry, her green apron still tied around her neck and a streak of flour on her cheek.

“Taking a dive…  and hoping I come up for air?” I almost cringe at throwing her quote back at her. If possible, she looks even more angry at that.

“That is not funny. Seriously, what are you doing? Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s not what you think.” Isn’t it? I try to tell myself as much. Think, Swan . I try to remember what Jake told me about the cliffs. He has done this a hundred times, hasn’t he? Possibly Leah has too. 

I take a step towards her. “Just … recreational cliff diving?”

“Bella, you might be the dumbest person I have ever met.” 

I frown. “Don’t you guys do this all the time? I can swear I saw you do it.”

“That’s not the same,” she shakes her head disbelievingly. “You really are insufferable, you know?”

She takes off her apron and unzips her jacket. “I hate you for doing this to me.” Her sweater lands on top of her shoes, leaving her in a black top and her usual cut off shorts. She steps out of her shoes, laying them haphazardly on the pile.

“I’m not even doing anything. And I didn’t ask you to join me,” I cross my arms, trying to hide my shaking hands. 

“Right. Come on,” she closes her hand around my arm, pulling me to the edge again. “I got you.”

I can’t believe this is happening. I look down again, and try not to think about if the waves have gotten stronger. The way down seems endless from up here and I remember not even being able to dive from any of the platforms at the public pool. This is so unlike me.

But then again, maybe that’s the point. I don’t want to go back to old Bella again. I think about leaving her here on this cliff, going all the way down and emerging new. It would be a nice idea. At least it is in my head. Just wash off all the bad and ugly, stay down until everything is gone and I’m clean and good again.

But that’s what it is, just an idea in my head. It all gets lost as Leah looks at me. I feel silly for doing this. For considering this before. She tightens her grip around me and I vaguely hear her counting down. Then she pulls me off the edge. We jump then fall.

The descent is quick. I try to hold on to her, but I’m not strong enough. My hand slips away shortly after hitting the surface. The water is frigid and dark and I fall into it steadily, the sun disappearing until I don’t see the sky anymore.

I was never a good swimmer. I feel a wave of despair hit me. What was I even thinking? Not thinking anything at all besides a constant feeling of panic building up beneath my tingling skin. I try to move my arms and orient myself. I could very well be swimming further down without even noticing. I want to call for Leah, but water flows into my mouth. My throat burns and my arms feel heavy. I’m scared. 

I feel like a little kid again, like that time Renee left me alone at the beach so long I got sun poisoning. I want to scream for her now, for Charlie, for anyone, but nothing leaves my mouth. I scream again, the water making me choke and panic. My vision blacks out at the sides.

Right then, after the despair and fear, it’s almost peaceful. I imagine myself sinking right through the bottom, the pitch black sand covering me and algae growing around my legs, pulling me down, down, down. I imagine not having to breathe, like them, and staying at the bottom of the ocean for years and decades and my skin turning to stone, unable to be hurt anymore.

I don’t think about them, about him, about Victoria. The waves are not noticeable anymore and I couldn’t say which direction is up. I feel suspended in swirling darkness, washing everything else away. For a few seconds, as my lungs ache to take in air, I don’t feel anger or sadness or guilt. There is no one dying because of me, no one has left me, no one will leave me.

I’m alone, but it doesn’t bother me. There is pressure all around me and I’m floating and then I’m being trashed around and my lungs are burning and burning and burning. But I’m not afraid, not anymore. This is nothing against what they have done to me, what Victoria would’ve done to me. 

The ocean is not taking anything from me, not taking my love, my hope, my youth, my happiness. There is nothing hanging over me like a curse, inflicted by them, by myself, and telling me that it’s my fault. No pain, no blame to carry. Just me alone and nothingness. I’m alone.

I’m alone and I’m drowning. Part of me wants to give in, give everyone an end where no one would get hurt anymore. Would turning into one of them be worse than this? I would still be alone, but burning. It feels more peaceful here. Maybe I should just stay down. I close my eyes.

But I don’t get to decide. I feel Leah grab my arm and I’m not alone anymore. I open my eyes again, the salt stinging and burning. Her hair is swirling around her like oil as she tightens her grip around me until her knuckles turn white. She pulls me up and up and doesn’t stop until I can see the sun again.

It is at the surface I break into pieces again.

19th - 26th January 

The rain starts the next day. Days and days of downpours and crashing wind, almost making me feel like I never came back up for air again. The fields are flooded and the neighboring town loses power during a storm. They say it’s almost biblical and school closes for a few days. Which means I’m not going to the coffee shop, not seeing Leah again.

I can’t tell if I’m glad or disappointed. I didn’t really talk to her again after. I could tell she was in shock. I just told her I was fine, taking my chance to run before she could yell at me or cry or tell me she never wanted to see me again. I didn’t even thank her for pulling me out.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have been driving.

The rain doesn’t make me feel better. I know before it would have. No sun, no reason for him to miss school, not being alone. Rain was always good. Now it means another person missing, Charlie telling me not to leave unless necessary. It means nowhere to go, nowhere to run. It means gloomy skies and darkness and once again being scared of what might lurk in the dark.

I think I’m starting to see things, starting to lose my mind. And I can’t think of what to do. I just keep thinking of Leah again, of her pulling me up and out and her skin warm under mine. I want to run to her. So I do.

I find her at the shop, even though it’s closed. I can’t tell if she is trying to escape her family, everyone or maybe me. I hesitate shortly before entering, but I don’t want to turn around and drive back without talking to her. I just want to talk to her.

I sit down at the table across from her. There’s only a few crammed inside, the one room of the small shop not leaving much room for more. By now I know that Leah picked the color of the walls, Harry poured the concrete for the foundation himself and little Seth placed the first tile on the wall behind the counter and that’s why it’s crooked to this day. 

I know it’s a place of community, a home away from home. It is a safe space, even though the roof is dented and the windows rattle when it’s windy like today. I idly pick at the paint of the table, trying to decide what to say now that I’m here.

“I’m sorry.”

“You are?” Leah huffs. “How surprising.”

Her hands are on the table too, only a small space away from mine. “I am. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m sorry I can’t tell you everything. I’m sorry for being a bad … friend. I’m trying. Please, Leah.” 

I grab her hand. “I promise I’m trying.”

She looks at me. I think about what would happen if she walked away, like him. Going through another person leaving. I can’t imagine going through all of this without her anymore. I realize just how dependent on her I’ve become. But I can’t take it back. 

I wouldn’t take it silent this time. Just let her walk all over me like he did. I try to tell myself as much. But part of me knows I would beg her on my knees to stay.

She squeezes my hand. “Please just give me a warning next time you try jumping off of any cliffs.” 

27th January 

Dear Alice,

I’m afraid. That’s not new though, is it? And why shouldn’t I be? There is so much you didn’t tell me, didn’t prepare me for. How can I survive this without you? I don’t know how I would ever stand a chance against Victoria.

Did you think about that when you left? Did you check the future, to see if I would even survive the year? Maybe you got bored or fed up with me. Maybe you want her to clean up after you. You did break the law, did you not? How does that fit into Carlisle’s world view? How can you excuse this? 

How can you excuse any of this, all these people dying because of nothing? Because of you. Because of me. Did you not see? Or do you not care?

Did you see what I’ve been thinking about? Death one way or another. Maybe I was cursed the day I asked him that question in the woods. Maybe Isabella Swan died long ago. Maybe she will again soon.

I haven’t decided yet. I wonder if you have seen the possibility. I try to imagine myself going, flying across the ocean. And then what? Knock on the door of some vampires and hope they don’t kill me instantly? 

Perhaps they will give me a better choice than you did. 

What else is there to do? I can’t go on like this. I know she will come for me sooner or later. And you won’t. You won’t. Won’t you?

28th - 1st February 

The next time I’m at the shop for the closing shift, Leah and I collect what’s left of the donuts and go out to the beach. It’s still pretty stormy, even after the rain falls from before have stopped. The waves crash against the shore almost violently, and I can see them hitting the cliffs from where we sit in the sand. 

I try to imagine jumping into them now. Maybe I would truly just burst into pieces hitting the harsh surface this time. Maybe I would be thrown around and against the cliffside, knocking me out and drowning without even noticing. 

I push the thought away. I’m so tired of feeling like this all the time, wallowing in sadness, then in anger, then in guilt. I don’t know how to end all this anymore. I think back to Carlisle’s office, the portrait. I covered it back up before we left, but I can still see it before me almost perfectly.

I don’t want to decide now, not with Leah beside me. I turn my head to look at her, meeting her gaze. She reaches for my hand. And my mind halts, because Leah Clearwater is holding my hand. On purpose. And it is warm and soft and steady. There is nothing cold about it and I can feel her pulse beating on her wrist. I can feel how it’s getting faster. Her skin is soft beneath my fingertips. 

“I think the beach is better than the cliff.” 

I laugh. Suddenly her other hand is on my neck, brushing softly over a loose curl. “You should laugh more often. Happiness suits you.”

She is so near and I’m unsure if she is waiting for a response, as unsure as I am if I could give any. I don’t know if I’m reading anything into this. This is Leah Clearwater, after all. And then her lips are on mine.

While the forest and copper and blood was him, the ocean and purple and gold is undoubtedly Leah. She is the smell of salt and wisteria, the warmth after coming home on a long winter day. She is the feeling of turning pages in my favorite book and the glow of the moon and stars and everything good. She is a gold rush, an epiphany and she is giving me back everything I’ve lost. And for this moment, she is mine.

I cradle my arms around her, desperate to keep, to take, anything she is willing to give to me. I feel hungry, desperate, entitled. I feel her pushing back against me, following, putting her hands over mine. I feel my heart beating wildly and I know I don’t want to die. I want to live, live for her, live with her.

I don’t know this will be the last time I see Leah Clearwater for 2 weeks.

Chapter Text

At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want

Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right

2nd February 

It’s a cold day when Sue calls me. She tells me Leah got very sick very suddenly and they have decided to close the shop for a few weeks, wanting to focus on “family matters”. I ask Sue to put her on, but she tells me she is not well enough. Not well enough to pick up a phone?

She says she will give Charlie a check covering my shifts for the rest of the month and she will call me again once they decide what time they will reopen. Or if they will at all. When I try to call again the next day, and the day after that, it goes unanswered.

I try not to read into it at first. I try to ignore the foreboding feeling, the sense of deja vu, and the impression that I’m standing at the cliff all over again, this time alone - with no one to pull me up from the water this time.

I don’t think about how he was distant at first before leaving me on the forest floor. I don’t think about the last time I saw Leah, her hands on my skin and her lips on mine. My head starts spinning every time I do, so I try to just push it away.

I realize Valentine’s Day is coming up, and feel silly for thinking about it. Silly little Bella. Maybe I would have spent the day at the shop, or visited Leah. I don’t go to her though. I think about it constantly -  knocking at her door or throwing stones at her window, until she allows me to beg her to stay, and ignore the kiss, or whatever I did to make her this upset with me. 

I don’t want to apologize for it. But I would, if that would make her stay with me. I would do anything to not be left alone again. I think about what I could say to her if I were to go.

I miss her. I miss going to the coffee shop, and going to her house. I even miss her cigarette smoke and her bad temper. All the space and time she left behind, unfilled, dragging on, like the blanket hanging from the end of my bed and the postcard from La Push hanging above my desk.

She is not wholly gone, not like him. It’s not a clean break this time. I can see and feel her missing, not able to fill it with anything again. I don’t want to try again. I just want to ask her to come back to me.

But I don’t. I try to live through the unknown, tell myself she really just is sick, and until she tells me otherwise there is no reason to believe she doesn’t want to see me again. I can’t really believe it though. Un-clean breaks heal slower and ragged. 

3rd - 12th February 

February has put the cold in me. It’s seeping through my skin, down my muscles, and nestles inside my bones. I can hardly recall the warmth of Leah’s skin or the light of the sun reflected in her eyes. It follows me around and I can’t shake it off, no matter how many warm showers I take or how many layers of clothes I put on.

My skin is burning, like I spent hours lying outside in the snow. Is this what it feels like, to turn? I don’t know if I’ll make it through. I dwindle between bursts of hysteria and panic, a stark opposite to the nothingness from before. It’s nothing like the emptiness from before. It’s freezing and shivering and nails all under my skin. 

I think about him again. I don’t have Leah to talk to about it anymore, to tell me that boys are useless, and just listen to her rant go on and on and on. I liked her voice better than the silence, even when it was snarky and angry and fed up. I would give anything to have it back again, to not be like this again.

I manage to make it a week like this. Going to school, going through the routine, except for driving out to La Push and working at the coffee shop. I try to fill up extra time with homework, with housework, or with anything at all. I pull weeds in the garden, polish the old silverware and organize the pantry- what I should be doing, if my life were normal. 

I do all that I can to remain productive; to not fall into the same hole as before. I don’t know if I could get out again. So I don’t think about Leah. I don’t think about them. I don’t think about him. I try to be normal, ignore the news and just do what’s expected of me. I ask myself what Charlie would want.

It doesn’t last. Of course it doesn’t.  I’m having trouble falling asleep again. All those months ago I was nearly in a constant stream of unconsciousness, a barely functioning shell of myself. Now I can’t seem to drift away if only for a few hours. 

Part of me is scared to miss a phone call from her, or from him. Part of me thinks that if Victoria were to turn up, maybe I could talk to her long enough to convince her to leave Charlie alive. I lie awake at night, bundled up under blankets and my eyes wide open. My legs twitch like I’m an animal on the run.

But I can’t go out. With all those people going missing, Charlie is nearly watching my every move. I can’t blame him. He doesn’t know what I know. If he did, he probably would never let me go out at all. He spends overtime at work and when he’s home I try to put on a brave face.

Nothing comes natural to me anymore. Getting up, going to school, doing homework. Even interacting with others: trying to mimic their ease and  confidence. I try to live a normal, human life. But I’m not normal anymore, not with everything I know. There are no monsters or legends for me anymore, only the reality of what lurks in the dark for me. 

When I next fall asleep I’m drowning again. The descent is slow this time; languid and cold. Almost like the cliff, but this time I don’t see any light shining through the surface. The only thing I feel is gravity pulling me down and down until I’m sure that it should not be possible to go down any further.

Pressure is building on my chest, from panic or from water -  I don’t know. I flail my arms, trying to find anything to hold on to, but there is nothing. I tell myself I’m going to make it through this, just like through anything so far. But the cold is hard to bear, and my limbs grow heavier with every second. How long have I been holding my breath? I don’t remember if I’m dreaming or awake anymore. Everything becomes slower.

I feel arms grabbing me, throwing me around. I open my eyes, expecting to feel the sting of salt, but only see swirling darkness around me, apart from the bodies holding on to me. There are six arms, clad in billowing gray robes, obscuring their figures and hiding their faces. Gold chains hang from their necks, glinting despite there being no light around.

Deep down I know who they are. They’re not Victoria, who has haunted my dreams for months on end. They are not him . They are different. For worse or for better, I don’t know. Their arms tighten around me, grabbing me, pulling. I remember the portrait in Carlilsle’s office. I remember their names. 

The last thing I remember before waking up is breaking through the surface again.

***

After school the next day I turn up at Jacob’s door instead of Leah’s. I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks now and I know I should be a better friend. He’s one of the only ones I have left. I breathe out shakingly, go up the step to the front door and knock hesitantly. The door gets pulled open after a few seconds, so harsh it almost makes a dent in the wall behind it. 

Jake looks taller than before. His long hair is gathered in a bun atop his head. He is clad in an old t-shirt despite the freezing weather.

“Hi,” I comb through my hair with my hands nervously, “I’m sorry for being so distant, the last few weeks have been … rough.”

He laughs, “Aren’t they always with you? Don’t worry, just come in.”

I almost feel silly for being concerned in the first place. It’s just Jake. Of course it is. I know him like I know myself. I automatically follow him to the garage, where he is working on his newest project. It’s almost easy to fall back into this - like I had a shift at the shop and drove down to meet him after.

Time passes easily after. At least for a while it does. Because I can’t stop myself from asking about Leah. Just after I grab him a coke from the kitchen, I sit down across from him and wring my hands.

“Have … you heard something from Leah?”

He puts the bottle down slowly, eying me, “Well, what have you heard?”

I frown, “That she’s sick? Is she not?”

“I … don’t know what to tell you.”

“Please Jake, just something. Just be honest with me.” I hate how I sound and have to suppress a shiver. Even with Jake, it’s just the same as before. Like I’m on the forest floor all over again.

He sighs, “I don’t really know that much. Not like anyone tells me anything. Just… some of the guys have been behaving weird. All around Sam. And I could swear I saw her at his and Emily’s a couple days ago, but I’m probably wrong because she hates his guts.”

I look down at the bottle in my hands so I don’t have to meet his eyes. Why would Leah meet Sam? I heard enough of her rants about him. Surely she would not befriend him again? None of this makes any sense. I feel anger bubbling up in me.

All of last week spent wallowing in self pity and anxiety, while Leah was meeting her ex and her cousin she supposedly hated. I don’t even know her anymore. I was being naive again. Being lied to again, being left again. After everything, she couldn’t even tell me straight. 

“Did you have a fight?”

“Maybe,” I laugh dryly. “You know, sometimes I think I’m the worst person on the entire planet.”

“I think a few people might rank higher than you, but who am I to judge?”

I don’t spend long at his house after that, and drive home through a downpour of snow. It comes down fast and heavy, but I just turn the heater up. I still don’t have a radio in the truck, so silence follows me all the way home. I tell myself again I’ll make it through to the surface.

I go to Jake’s again a few days later. And again after that. I try to be a friend, not just use my time there as a distraction. I know Jake needs a friend too. He tells me about people acting weird lately. Quil hanging with Sam too, not just Leah, after swearing he hated him a week ago. He calls them Sam’s gang now and while he makes jokes, I can tell he is missing his friends just like I am missing Leah.

I bring my homework most days or work on his car with him. One evening I make a casserole for him and Billy, not wanting to go home and try to sleep just yet. He never calls me out on it. It becomes second nature, going to school, going to Jake, going home.

At least for the most part. The next day I go around the back of the house, I see Embry arguing with him. I can tell when they notice me: Embry points at me and yells something, while Jake looks to the ground dejected. 

Once I get closer I can see he looks different than the last time I saw him. He’s taller now, taller than Jake even and only wearing a thin shirt. His hair is cut shorter and there is a tattoo on his arm. The same one I saw on Sam once.

He points at me again and from this distance I can see his hands shaking. “You!”

I stare at him confused. I haven’t seen him in weeks, I don’t know why he would be mad at me. “What?”

“What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.”

I automatically take a step back, “I’m just visiting Jake.” I look at him, but he avoids my gaze. 

“What are you doing with him? Another rebound? After the cold…”

Jake turns to him now, interrupting him, “Embry, that's not-”

He cuts him off with a wave of his hand, his arms trembling, “No. I should’ve said it earlier too. For Leah’s sake. We - you - don’t deserve to be used like this. Like some sort of toy, only picked up when needed. Especially by someone like you.”

I shake my head uncontrollably, “I don’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jake makes a move to talk again, but he pushes him away. I can see his whole body shivering now, “Have you considered that maybe you’re not wanted? Maybe there’s a reason no one can stand to be around you for longer. You should go and never come back.”

13th February 

Dear Alice,

Everyone leaves. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. It feels like admitting to failure, admitting defeat. Maybe it is my fault if she left me too.  If everyone does.

Why did she not even say goodbye? Why didn’t you? I remember you calling me your best friend. I thought so highly of you, all of you. My knights in shining armor, taking me under your wing and opening up a never-ending future of family and love.

Why did you not say goodbye, Alice? You never even told me why. Was I not good enough for you, just like he said? Did you grow tired of me after the excitement wore off? Could you not even be bothered to show up or to pick up the phone or to send a letter? Not one single word from you.

I used to feel cold all the time. Drowned out, dissociated, empty. Like I lost a part of me in the forest. Like there was a me before you and a me after you. And I can never go back again. It’s carved out of my chest and now there is this emptiness that I try to fill. 

How did it all end? I still don’t know. 

I’m coming up empty looking for reasons. I would’ve said goodbye to you. I am, in a way. Still. I don’t know why I’m continuing to write you these emails. If you saw them you would have answered me by now, no? Maybe not.

I probably should pick up a diary instead. Or maybe a psychiatrist. 

I’m just not like you. I can’t just move out of town into a new house. I’m not perfect, beautiful, immortal. Part of me wonders why he hated this life so much. It is all I could ever want, is it not? To have someone. To love them forever. To be loved forever.

Do you miss your mortal life? Do any of you? Does it just feel like an old washed out dream, like it was not even yours? Would it feel like that for me? I always knew there was a prize to pay. There still would be, if I went to them. I could never see Charlie again. Or Leah.

Maybe I never will again anyway. So why does it matter? I should just go. Should I go, Alice? I wish you would tell me what to do.  Please just tell me what to do.

Chapter Text

I, I could feel the mascara run

You told me that you met someone

14th February 

I don’t go back to La Push. I try to call Jake, to see if he wants to talk or come over to Forks, but my calls go unanswered. I think about calling Embry; maybe he would pick up to yell at me. But I don’t. 

I spent the day at school, trying to ignore the couples and people exchanging roses. I stick to my homework, casual small talk, and counting raindrops in the window. At least until lunch.

It’s rare for me to take part in group conversations. I only perk up because I hear Angela talking about what she swears she saw yesterday. A wolf. I vaguely remember Charlie mentioning something, but it meddled with all the other cautionary warnings of missing people and dangers in the dark.

It feels different, though. It’s not a flash of red hair, people disappearing without a trace, or bodies found without blood. She describes a wolf, bigger than anything she’s ever seen before. I don’t recall if there even should be wolves in Washington, but she insists it was almost the size of a bear - a flicker between trees, gone before she could do anything.

The others play her down.  I don’t say anything, but it settles heavily in my mind. A year before, I would not have believed her. But now knowing about vampires, what else could be living out there? I think back to the legends told to me in front of the bonfire. I remember Leah’s hand in mine, burning hot. I remember Embry’s anger and Jake’s vanishing. It can’t be true, can it?

After I get home from school, I pick up the gift I left on my desk - wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper, because I guessed Leah would’ve hated pink. I tell myself I should have never bought anything. I pick it up, about to throw it in the trash when I think about him again. I think about the hole in the dashboard of my truck and everything they took from me.

Charlie’s not home, so no one notices when I grab my keys again and am out of the door again minutes after entering. I sit in the truck for a while, unsure what to do. I thumb my head against the steering wheel. I do it again and again until I can focus on the sharp pain on my forehead.

I start the motor in a daze. The sun has set by now, but I know the way by heart and find it easily. The drive feels longer than usual, like the road in front of me is stretching endlessly. I almost anticipate seeing someone looming in the forest next to the road, either long legs and fur or glimmers of red, unsure of which I’d prefer.

But all I see until I pull into the driveway are stars and sidelines. I pick up the gift again, crumpling the paper beneath my fingers. I don’t bother with the door this time. I grab stones from the ground, throwing them at the windows around the entrance. I think about Leah beside me the last time I was here. I’m sure she would enjoy this.

Once the glass is shattered, I push the remaining pieces aside with the sleeve of my jacket. It cracks beneath my feet as I enter. I make my way to the office quickly. I grab the painting and find what I need on my way back to the kitchen. Of course no one bothered to clean out the pantry.

I go to the backyard. I don’t want to start a forest fire on top of everything. Charlie taught me well. Mechanically I assemble a small bonfire, with my supplies from the kitchen and what I find around the trees. I have a lighter in my pocket now - a habit picked up from the coffee shop because Leah used to forget hers and was upset if she couldn’t smoke during lunch.

The fire starts quickly. I look at the flames for a long time. The only way to truly kill a vampire. At least from what they told me. I know they didn’t tell me everything. Some parts I only found out about when asked, and some were never answered. Who knows what they didn’t tell me?

I stare at the portrait in my hands again. Their faces behind robes - regal and untouchable. Almost sinister from the look in their ruby-red eyes. I stare at them long enough until I’m sure I’ve memorized them, from their looks down to their necklaces. Even the room and the inscription. The only one I don’t look at is Carlisle. He won’t be there anyway.

I throw the gift first. It’s small and ignites immediately. The wrapping paper peeling up and away, the book and pressed flowers following soon after. The smell of burnt paper fills my nose. He told me when one of their kind is burned, there is a sickeningly sweet smell to it. I wonder if I’ll find out.

The painting takes longer. I don’t know how old it is, but Carlisle’s hasn’t been with them for quite some time. It must be hundreds of years old. Older than Edward. Now the paint is blackening and turning to ash. The frame cracks and falls apart eventually. I watch the flames until they turn down and die.

I make it home again much later. Charlie is still not in. He must have spent the night at work. I make a small dinner, and eat mine quickly on the couch and leave the rest for him in the fridge. I leave him a note, so he is not worried about me too. It’s the least I can do. 

Before I go to bed, I pick up the phone one last time. I know the number by heart and enter it without looking. No one answers, of course they don’t. It’s in the middle of the night and they might not have anyway. But I was counting on that. It’s not Alice I want to talk to anymore. 

“If this is you, Sue, please don’t listen to this message. Give it to Leah.” 

I wait a few seconds, but I feel the words breaking out of me. I know Sue could listen to it anyway, but at that moment I don’t care.

“Leah. I haven’t spoken to you in over two weeks. I’m not sure if you’re sick or what’s going on with you, but I thought you at least had the decency to say it to my face. I don’t know what that on the beach was for you. It was not nothing to me. I thought-”

A sob cracks out of me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore what I thought. It doesn’t seem to be true. Please just tell me if our time is through. I can’t do this nothingness anymore. Out of anyone, you should know this. He did the same to you. Just like Edward did the same to me. So how could you do this to me? How could you not spare any human decency and just let me know?”

I take a shaky breath and try to control my voice.

“Fuck you for leaving me when I needed you. For leaving me at all. After this, after everything. You don’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to do this. I’m so tired of it all. I thought you knew.” 

The line beeps. 

“I thought you knew, Leah.”

After, I unplug the phone and don’t pick it up again.

15th February - 20th February 

The weather gets warmer and the snow starts to melt. Spring is slowly creeping onto the grass, the first snowdrops popping up and braving the cold. I thought time felt slower now than 5 months before.

It was all a quick blur when he left. A few blinks and two months were gone. Then I met Leah for the first time. Only a couple months ago in the grand scheme of things. But the season is changing again and it feels like I'm at the same point as before.

So on Saturday, I decide to go back to where it all started. The grass is dry but higher than before and I have a hard time finding the way again. It feels ironic that I don’t even know the paths anymore. But I haven’t been back in a long time.

I make it there eventually. I take care to remember the way so I will find it back. Part of me wonders if Leah would come again to find me and bring me home. I push the thought away.

I sit down in the middle of the meadow. It’s not far enough in the year to really be in bloom, but it is not quite winter still either. The ecosystem is ever changing. I wonder what it is like to be stagnant. To never be sick, never get a single wrinkle, never another gray hair. Not being able to change for better or for worse.

I think about what he said. How their soul gets lost. As much as I want to hate him, hate them, I find myself unable to believe it. I ponder if their minds are as unchangeable as their bodies. What would be the point in learning then? In living? If I was holding the same beliefs as he does, maybe I would be just as miserable.

Absent-mindedly I rip out little blades of grass. I think about Angela’s story again. The stories told above the bonfire repeat in my head. What else is out there in the world? I can feel my head spinning again. I lean back and let gravity pull me down.

The sky is a dull gray. I study the shapes of the clouds to keep my thoughts from spiraling. Eventually, I close my eyes. With the soft ground under me and my jacket covering me, I drift away.

My dream starts with a kiss. I can sense her right away. Her smell of sandalwood and flowers, her warmth and her heartbeat under my fingers. She’s alive and she’s with me. It almost feels real. Almost.

She’s slowly slipping away from me, but I can’t open my eyes to see. As she’s leaving the cold is coming back to me again. I reach my arms out to regain any sense of orientation, but there is nothing to hold on to. I start to shiver.

I feel a gust of wind go by. No, not the wind. It’s too fast and sudden to be wind and stops abruptly. I know what it is. 

“Edward?”

I reach out again. “Not quite.”

I jump back instinctively. It’s not him. Not Victoria, either. It’s her friend. The third from that day on the field. 

“She told me to come back for you.”

I bring my hands up to claw at my eyes. Even then I can’t get them to open. It’s almost like my face is blank. I try to open my mouth again, to scream, to plead, to beg, but I can’t even do that anymore.

“Now that you’re all alone, no one can stop me. Not the Cullen’s. Not your dogs.”

Ice-cold arms grab me. They hurl me forward, encircle me and tilt my head to the side. They grab me so hard I think my arms are going to break. Blood is rushing loudly in my ears and my legs start to give out under me.

I only realize I’m awake once I’m screaming and my eyes are open again. Everything washes over me. I’m back in the meadow and everything is still.

***

I don’t go back home. Charlie might worry, but I can’t. I turn on the car and drive to La Push straight away like I’m being chased. Well, maybe I am. All I know is that I can’t live another day with all these lies.

I think about going to her house. I dismiss the thought. She probably wouldn’t be there. I know where she is. I know it. I’ve known it all this time, even if she didn’t bother to explain it to me herself.

I find Sam’s house by rough descriptions overheard from various conversations and identify it by the name on the mailbox. It’s smaller than I imagined, but I’m only being used to the Cullen’s. It’s one story only, though painted recently and the front garden is well taken care of. It looks almost homely if I didn’t know what lies beneath the walls.

I’m still thinking about what to say once I knock when the door flies open. It’s Embry.

“What are you doing here?”

I can hear shuffling behind him. Jacob pushes him to the side, coming outside quickly. Sam follows.

“I’m here to see her.”

Jacob frowns. Sam goes to stand before me, crossing his arms. Up close I can see they all share the same tattoo. They almost look like brothers - the same statues, short-cut hair, intense stares. “Who?”

“You know who. I’m not here to see Emily.”

His expression turns sour. Jacob is standing behind him now, shuffling. Embry is still on the front porch, maybe refusing to come closer to me. I twist the seam of my shirt in my hands. Probably not the right moment for jokes.

“Please. I don’t want to cause trouble -”

“But you are,” Embry says. He’s blocking the door almost completely, but I can see movement behind him. I crane my neck. But it’s not Leah. It’s Quill.

“You’re being harsh.” He comes outside and turns to Sam. “I think we should let her see her. You’ve been hearing her.”

I wonder if he’s talking about me, but then Jacob laughs and cuts in.  “I wish Bella would call.”

“I wish Bella wouldn’t call!”, Quill shouts back. 

“Maybe I should call Bella?”

“Maybe I should call Bella and hang up.”

“I will literally kill all of you.”

My gaze snaps to her automatically. I’m not strong enough to not look at her, even if part of me does want to avoid it. I want to show her how mad I am. But I can just stare at her.

Her hair is cut off, only going to her chin now and swishing as she moves her head. She’s only wearing cut-off shorts and a top, just like they are. She has the tattoo too, a stark black on her upper arm.

She comes down the few stairs quickly, looking at Sam instead of me. “We will take a walk. I will not take a no.”

She stands before him, staring into his eyes. She’s gotten taller, too. Almost as tall as him. I see all the others watching the exchange. He sighs and gives a short nod. Leah turns to me. Her gaze meets mine and I take a deep breath. It feels like the first real one in months.

She walks the few steps towards me, while the others shuffle back inside and the door is thrown shut forcefully. But I don’t have eyes for them. I wonder if I would react the same way if he came back. Part of me knows I would not. And with that thought and our eyes connected, I feel something fall into place.

She takes my hand wordlessly and pulls me down a small treaded path going down the side of the house. I’ve never been to this part of the beach, the coffee shop and her house being a couple miles away. We go to the shore, which is coloured by a setting sun that reflects in little glimmers on the surface of the water.

“I don’t know what to start with. I’m sorry, I guess.”

I snort and drop her hand. I ignore the extra inches she now has over me and take a step back.

“You don’t get to do this. Kiss me, make me feel like this and then just up and leave,” I kick a stone away angrily. “After everything I told you, everything you know, how could you do this to me? Anything but this.”

“Bella, I… I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You should have known better. You could’ve told me anything, anything and it would not have mattered.”

“That’s not true. There’s a lot you don’t know-”

“Oh, I do know, believe me. I know about the Cullens and vampires and wolves and everything! In fact, I’m probably being hunted by vampires right now.”

She doesn’t answer. Her eyes widen and she moves a step closer to me, her hand outreached halfway between us.

I feel tears coming in my eyes. “I was scared and I wanted you to come back.”

“What, so I should have just called you and said ‘Sorry I can’t come to the shop or meet you right now, I’m turning into a monster’?”

“Yes! And don’t get into that monster nonsense with me.”

She looks down at the sand. “I wanted to call you. Mom didn’t let me have the phone. Highly classified information and all that. I’m not allowed to tell anyone.”

“I called you.”

I can see her swallow. 

“I can't do it again. I can't do it again Leah. I can't lose someone again. Especially when it's you.” 

Because it’s you.

“You want this? You should know better by now.”

“We’re really gonna play this game again, Leah? I’m not gonna back down.”

I take her hand and connect them halfway between us. “It’s you. I want anything, with you. Anything you will give me.”

She looks at our entwined fingers and then back at me. “You know, I think I’m getting really bad at denying you anything.”

I laugh. “Don’t go soft on me now.”

She pulls me the remaining distance between us until we’re connected from the shoulder down. “Only for you.”

21st - 27th February 

Sue does open the shop again eventually. Not on all days, as Leah has to go on patrol she tells me, but I can go back. I can finally go back. On my first shift, Leah’s again only wearing a cut-off tank top and loose jeans shorts. Even with spring temperatures in Washington not nearly enough. I stare at her bare legs until she laughs and tells me they run naturally hot. I guess there are a lot of things I still need to figure out.

We spend the break together again. She has a huge lunch box this time and eats as music blasts through the window behind us. I smile and mouth along to the lyrics.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” she interrupts me.

“I’m not in love with Edward Cullen anymore.”

She laughs. “Good to hear. From what I’m being told, he literally stinks.”

“How about you?”

“I’m a sort of werewolf?”

“How did that feel?”

She puts her sandwich down and considers.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It felt… free. Like there was some part of me missing.”

She looks back at me. “At least until I heard Sam’s voice in my head.”

“You hear each other?”

“Unfortunately. One of the downsides of being a werewolf.”

She takes my hand. She’s been doing that a lot recently. Like she wasn’t allowed to before and now she has time to make up. Sometimes when I’m stocking the high shelves, she will now stand behind me and softly put it on my lower back, too. She is warmer now than before. Always warmer than him, but almost glowing now. 

“You should stop looking at me like that.”

I frown. “Like what?”

“Like this. Stop turning me into a saint. You should still be mad at me. For leaving you. For not being better. I’m just as flawed.”

“What’s the point? You didn’t leave willingly. And you’re back now.”

“I wasn’t good for you. Maybe I’m not even now.” 

Not good enough. I shiver.

“But I’m too selfish to stay away from you. Still, I’m sorry for all of this, Bella. I know even without all the other baggage, I have quite the attitude. I can’t promise you to change. It’s all I’ve known for quite a while.”

“I know, I-”

“Being with me is a lot of work.” 

“It isn’t to me.” 

I cup her cheek with my hand. Her skin is soft to the touch and I see goosebumps on her bare shoulders. I let my hand drop from her face to trace them. Eventually, she catches it and pulls me closer. 

I drag my eyes up her neck and face until I meet her gaze again. She’s smiling and I notice she has small dimples. I move in to kiss them, while her other hand catches in the crook of my neck.

I have the sudden realisation that I was wrong. She could leave me any way she chooses if that means I get to have her right now.

28th February 

Dear Alice,

I think this will be my last email to you. I don’t even know if you’ve seen my writing them or if I’m truly just writing this for myself. It doesn’t matter anymore either way.

I thought there was no way to live without you, without him. That you took something from me like you carved out the radio and ripped the pictures from their pages. Well, maybe you did. I did go through hell and back to find a way back to myself.

Not myself from before, not really. I think that’s a thing of the past. For better or for worse. I think I know what he would say. But he was always living in the past, wasn’t he? Do you believe living in the future is better, Alice? Do you?

I’m trying to focus on the present. I will never be able to change what you did to me, what I did to myself, what I did to others. I try not to seek blame anymore. Not in myself, maybe not even in you or in him. It will not change anything now.

But I’m not perfect. I have spent months wallowing in bone-deep despair and recent bursts of anger. And I don’t know what I would do if you stood before me once again. Would I still take you back? Old habits die hard, I guess. I hope you won’t not force me to find out.

And truly, I want to move on. It’s strange to type these words now. It felt so impossible for so long. How do you move on from something like this? You showed me so much I never knew. About the world - about myself. You promised me eternal life and eternal love. Then you took both away. 

I never thought I could do it again. But it’s different. It’s not like him or like you or like your family. It’s warm and true and lasting. I think it will last. I hope it does. You would know, wouldn’t you? Maybe part of me wants to believe you knew from the start. Would it have been fair to let me go through it all if you knew the outcome? 

I don’t want to ask myself all these questions anymore. To wonder about how it ended, whose fault it was and what you’re doing now. So I will stop. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But I want to move on. I want to live my life, even if it is without you.

So my final message to you is this: Please don’t come back.

Chapter Text

Help, I'm still at the restaurant

Still sitting in a corner I haunt

1st - 7th March

Everything goes well for a week. Honestly, that should have been the first sign. But I’m not Alice. I can’t foresee when things go wrong. I’m just human. So I do what humans do and follow my routine. I split my time between the coffee shop and school. By now I have a bit of savings stashed away, from this job and the one before. I don’t spend much and I know what I might need it for. I think about it every day.

I can’t bring myself to make a decision. What else is there to do? I know she’s still out there. I think of ways to stop her. But again, I’m just human. Left alone without any protection. Well, maybe not any.

I haven’t told Leah yet. Outright at least. I tried to a couple of times. Leah doesn’t bring anything about the vampires up again, either because she thinks I said it out of misguided hysteria or because she thought I was exaggerating for effect. To be fair, both sound like me.

Most of Sam’s pack is annoyed at me or even straight up hate me from what I can tell. Quill still likes me and Jake is coming around again. But other than that they don’t forgive me for being with the Cullen’s. Part of me wants to think it is hypocritical. The Cullens have never hurt humans. Almost never anyway. It’s not their fault what others of their kind do. It’s not their fault what Victoria does. Is it?

I should tell Leah. Or Sam. I should go up to them, tell them about the missing persons cases and that I know what’s causing them. I should tell them they’re in danger by associating with me. That I’m a giant walking target -  a dead girl walking. Only a matter of time until she gets to me.

I’m scared again. I have so much to lose. I don’t want to lose Leah again. I can’t. Either by her unwillingness to put up with my vampire drama or by the hunt for Victoria. So I don’t say a word.

And it’s quiet for a while. The news dies down. I hope she realizes they’re not coming back. And if they’re not coming back, they don’t care for me. The understanding comes for me too. I was never Edward’s mate or he wouldn’t have left me like that. I know that I could never leave Leah.

I go out surfing with her on the weekend. I remember the first time I went to La Push with everyone from school, shortly after moving here. It’s different with Leah. There’s a comfortable silence between us and while I sit on the beach and watch her; I’m content. 

We share sandwiches I brought, and her kisses taste like salt and blueberry jam. She even offers to teach me, despite seeing me fall over my own feet on the way down the sand. I smile as I brush my fingers through her hair, wavy from the water.

I should’ve known.

8th March 

It starts with me wanting to show Leah the meadow. She knows the forest of course, from searching for me all those months ago. Still, I want to show her the place. Part of me wants to reclaim it and replace all those memories with him .

It’s a school day. Leah argues it’s nonsense that I go to pick her up just to drive right back. She says she will meet me there. When I ask her how she will find the way, she just laughs. Maybe if I had wolf senses too I wouldn’t get lost so often.

I’m early. Last period got canceled because the teacher was sick and I didn’t want to sit around at home. The weather is nice for once. It has been for a few days now; the sun is coming out more than a few hours a day. I sit down in the grass and let the rays hit my face.

Part of me wonders if this is a date. Does all the times we had lunch in the coffee shop count as one? That was work though. Maybe the times at the beach or the cliff diving? What an unusual first date that would be. I should probably ask her to go to the movies or to a restaurant. Is that even something she would enjoy?

My thoughts spin around for a while. Being with Leah feels different. I had never thought about stuff like that with him . Everything was always decided for me. What we would do, what I would wear, my makeup and hair carefully arranged by Alice. Dressed up in their family colors and marked with the family crest. By now I’m almost glad it’s gone. If I were truly a Cullen, they would not have just left me like that.

I perk up when I hear steps. They’re quick, but I know Leah is fast. But it’s not her standing at the other edge of the meadow. I feel my heart drop. I recognize him almost immediately, the delay only brought by the fact it was red hair hunting me all those months, not black locks. 

He eyes me quizzically.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He crosses the distance in a flash, coming to stand a few spaces before me. His eyes are neither gold or red - stuck in an in-between. I never asked how long they take to change. I try to slow my heart rate, but he must hear how fast it is going. I swallow my fear down.

“I thought you'd gone to Alaska. With the Denalis.”

“I have. For a bit. They’re hospitable. More so than my previous partners. The diet I can’t say I enjoy.”

I think about Leah, part of me wishing she was here and part of me wishing she forgot, “I can imagine. I know Jasper has had issues, maybe you should talk to him. Get some advice.”

“Should I now?” He laughs, “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary. Do you know where they are?”

I consider my answer briefly, but know waiting too long to give one will seem suspicious, “They left town for a bit. Visiting some friends.”

“Curious, huh? With only two vegetarian clans in the world, ” He walks a step closer to me. I can see the red around his irises from this distance, “I found the Cullen 's place empty. Broken into. I smelled smoke and saw remnants of a fire.”

“Maybe just some teenagers having misdirected fun. They wouldn’t know.”

“Why did they leave their little pet behind?”

I can feel myself getting angry again. At him . At them. Being broken up with and left in the dust wasn’t enough, now I also had to lie and beg for my life. After all this time being scared of her, this is how it would end. 

I raise my chin, “I’m not their pet.”

“No?” He comes one step closer again, “They acted like it when they killed James. Victoria is still very upset about that, you must know. Once she gets something in her head it’s impossible to stop her.”

I don’t answer. He cocks his head to the side and considers me, “Do they visit often?”

I think about lying. Almost pointless after my last answer. I find myself not wanting to anyway.

“No.” 

I stare into his darkening eyes. I tell myself I’m not afraid. I say it again and again until I almost believe it, “I think I’m gonna do you a favor. Victoria will be upset, but she is anyway. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

He reaches a hand out to touch me and I hold my breath. I think about Leah. I think about Charlie. I close my eyes.

I hear the wind again. When I open my eyes, I stumble back involuntarily. There’s three giant wolves coming unto the clearing. Two gray ones, one smaller than the other, and a giant black one. It makes sense that Angela thought they were bears at first - they’re massive and almost otherworldly. 

Laurent has already turned around, his head snapping back and forth between them and me. He crouches down, almost as if to protect his prey. I shudder. When I see his eyes focusing on my hand, I realize I have cut it in the fall. Blood rushes down my wrist and into the moss. His eyes widen and he starts to pounce.

The wolves get to him first. A wild tangle of limbs and fur ensues. I try to focus through the adrenaline and the speed, but find it unable to make anything out. I hear sounds akin to rocks scratching against each other, violent snarls and snapping. A howl.

It’s over more quickly than I would have imagined. Or perhaps I just blocked it out. It feels like I’m not part of my body anymore. I come back to myself when I feel my arm being grabbed. I turn my head and it’s Leah. Of course.

The first thing I see is she’s not wearing shoes. How silly. That must be very cold on her feet. Her mouth is moving at me. Then she’s picking me up like a sack of potatoes. I see the grass fly by. Just like I did with him. Blurs of green and the sky and my stomach twisting.

I’m in the truck. I don’t know why. Leah is driving. There is blood on her hands. There is blood on mine too. Is it hers or mine? Whose is it? I try to scratch it off, but it’s still wet. It smells coppery and is sticky beneath my fingers. I try not to throw up.

I roll the window down and hang my head into the driving wind. It’s cold and sharp. What time is it anyway? How long has this day been? Time feels to stretch out forever and into nothing at the same time. When my eyes dry out I pull my head back in. I start counting my breaths.

I turn to Leah at 50. She’s crying. “What happened?”

She doesn’t turn her gaze from the road. I realize we’re going very fast. So fast that Charlie would have my head for it if he found out. There must be someone on the truck bed, as I can hear muffled shouting and movement.

“The vampire is dead.” 

“Laurent.”

“Whatever. He is dead. Burned to ashes. No grave to honor him. Not after what he did.”

“What?”

She smashes her hands against the steering wheel, the horn cutting through the quiet of the night.

“He bit Embry. Their venom, or whatever, it’s poisonous to us.”

“But you can heal him, no?”

She looks at me now. Her eyes are small and defeated. “No. We’re just bringing him home to die.”

9th March 

He doesn’t even make it through the night. They got his mom here at some point and I can tell the moment he passes - a scream drags through the house and out over the ocean. I know immediately. 

I can’t stay in the house. I press my fingers in the bandage on my hand and run outside. Emily insisted on it. It felt so silly. Stitching up the cut on my hand while one of their own is dying. 

Hardly anyone notices me leaving, all collapsing into themselves or into each other. I stumble until I reach the truck, yanking the door open with my left hand. There is still blood on the back. I can see it even in the dark. Embry’s blood.

A sob wrangles out of me. I clutch my hand to my chest, falling against the door with a crack. I don't know how to get blood out of metal. The thought seems inconsequential but comes nonetheless. Emily said I’m in shock. When does it stop? I don’t think it ever will. I feel it reverberate through me now and I will tomorrow and I will ten years from now. Only I will not live ten years. 

I see the front door opening again. I know who it is. I can’t speak to her now. To anyone. I jump into the driver’s seat, turn the key still left in the ignition and drive home.

10th March - 17th March

The funeral is a few days later. I’m surprised to even be invited, but it’s probably a pretense for Charlie’s sake. I think about not going, but what excuse would I give him? And hiding feels cowardly. I try not to be one anymore.

It’s scheduled for early Sunday morning. Leah invites me to stay the night at hers, so we can get ready together. I should decline. I should be alone in my room and know that it is my fault and suffer. But I don’t. I can’t. So I say yes.

I’m on the Clearwater’s doorstep Saturday after lunch. Seth is not there. He is staying with Sam and the others. Truly, the whole place seems almost deserted. The shop is closed, there is no one at the beach and hardly anyone outside at all. If they had flags, they would be at half mast. It’s like a natural disaster struck. And it did, in a way. Hurricane Bella. 

Sue greets me with a stern face. I didn’t expect much more after blowing up her mailbox for weeks and then breaking practically every of their rules. Harry is not here either. I nod at Sue and quickly go up the stairs.

Leah’s in front of her door, “She’s not mad at you, she’s mad at me. We had a fight.”

We go inside together. She pulls me to sit next to her on the bed, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“She didn’t tell me about any of your calls. She deleted your voice messages, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She’s still holding my hand, tracing small patterns while she talks.

“Dad hasn’t been around. Mom says he dislikes the fighting,” She falls down on the bed, “Sometimes, I think that- it doesn’t matter.”

I move down slowly to lie next to her, “It does.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this now. Today.”

“Please. Just anything else.”

She sighs. There’s a moment of silence, “You know, there were only ever male wolves?”

I blink at her. “I did not. Does that matter?”

“It shouldn’t. It does,” She shuffles closer to me, “I wasn’t here when I turned. I was supposed to be. It was late. It was the day after we … kissed. I had to think, so I went out and ended up at the cliff.”

“That stupid cliff, huh?”

She snorts, “Sam found me. I started yelling at him. I was so mad. I turned - almost fell off the cliff. Can you imagine? A wolf cliff diving. I probably would’ve drowned.”

I try not to imagine it. It might be better or it might be worse than replaying the last days in my head over and over again.

“Dad has never even seen it. I think he was happy when Seth changed. But not for me. I’m not normal.”

“What’s so normal about werewolves?”

She pulls her arm around my shoulder. I feel her warmth on the whole side of my body. “I’m sorry for making this about me. With everything going on, it’s just hard to feel like I belong anywhere.”

“You do. Belong,” I pick at my cut again, “We’re not meant to be alone.”, I say. What I really mean is I can’t be without you. Not anymore.

Leah falls asleep in my arms after dinner. I don’t. I feel the same old sorrow, seeping down the back of my throat. Swallowing guilt, the harsh acidic taste. It’s not his fault anymore; it’s mine. I can never take it back. There’s nothing I can do or say to ever make this right again. Even if I went away now, nothing would bring Embry back. He will always be missing. In his family, in his tribe, in history. He hated me and he was right for it. 

The next morning comes slowly. I don’t eat breakfast. Part of me is scared of Sue and doesn’t want to impose on them and part of me is just sick to my stomach. I stay in Leah’s room and get dressed. A simple black dress, tights, black boots.

Leah comes up after, smelling of cinnamon and coffee. She puts on a pair of black jeans and a simple black shirt. When she returns from the bathroom, I stare at her. She’s beautiful. She’s lively and good and I just want to run away with her.

“Would you get away with me?” I blurt out.

She frowns, “From what?”

“Everything.”

“I can’t.”

“I know. But would you?”

“Yes.”

I press my hands under my eyes, trying not to cry. This day is not about me. I repeat it in my head again. We don’t talk much on the way there. While she carries her anger outwards, in her core Leah is a quiet person just like me. It’s easy to be quiet with her though. Even today.

It’s different from the only other funeral I’ve been to: my aunt’s in Phoenix. There’s a lot of people from La Push attending; me and Charlie being practically the only outsiders. I stand next to him and Leah stands next to me. If Charlie is confused by that, he doesn’t show it.

The elders all say a few words. I’m torn between listening and trying to block it out. I feel some stares on me all the way through the service. I look at the sky instead. It’s overcast and starts to rain halfway through. No one bothers with umbrellas or rain coats and soon the fabric of my dress sticks to me.

His mom is the last. She’s alone in her house now. I think about what she knows, what they told her. If she knows it’s my fault. She doesn’t mention it, doesn’t mention anything otherworldly, either for Charlie’s sake or because she truly doesn’t know.

The reception is at Sam and Emily’s house. I can hardly make it back inside, but know I will have to. I brush my wet hair behind my ears nervously. Leah looks at me for a bit, while all the others make their way inside. Eventually, she just pulls me with her.

The living room is bursting at the seams, people overflowing to the kitchen and some going back out to the veranda even in the rain. I see Sue and Harry Clearwater, everyone from the pack, and Charlie talking quietly with Billy in a corner while holding a beer. 

No one comes up to me, and I make my way to a deserted corner while Leah goes to be with her family for a bit. It’s the first time in a while I see Seth. He’s taller than his sister now, despite being younger. Even he’s not smiling today.

After a bit Leah comes up to me again. “Want to go for a smoke?”

“At a funeral?”

She shrugs. “Embry wouldn’t mind.”

We go outside in the downpour, standing under the roof overhang, below the kitchen window. It emits a warm light and soft voices drag out slowly. Leah offers me a cigarette, but I decline. I wrap my arms around myself while she lights hers, taking several attempts against the weather.

I turn to her, “Will I ever get out of this?”

 “I don't know,” She inhales and ash falls to the ground, “You should have told me. We could have found a way.”

“I didn’t know how to. I still don’t know how this will go.”

“I guess no one does. Maybe that one Cullen from what I heard.”

“Maybe not even her. Either way, I hope there is an us down the line. There has to be. I don't have a plan B.”

She kicks her cigarette out with her sneakers and turns to me, “I’m not sure you even have a plan A, to be honest.”

I stare down at the ground, “It’s my fault.”

“You’re not the villain, Bella.”

“Am I not?” I try to take a step back, but the wall is already pressed hard against me, “Do you truly believe that? I don’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was me. I was distracted. I saw you and wanted to protect you rather than kill him. He bit Embry because of me.”

“He wouldn’t have been without me. This is my fault.”

I look up again. There are tears brimming in her eyes. The last time I saw her cry was that day.

“I think I know how this will end.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m scared.”

“It’s okay. I think I am too,” She reaches out for me, “Even if I’m mad at you, you won’t be alone. Ever.”

We go back inside after I can’t stall any longer. I could probably find Charlie now and argue that it’s a reasonable time to go home. Some guests are leaving, the weather turning steadily worse and the sky darkening considerably. I find him with Harry in the kitchen. I don’t want to separate him from his friends, so with a sigh I go back outside. Even the rain is better than staying in there a minute longer.

Alone outside feels even colder. I should’ve brought a warmer jacket. I lean against the outside wall, a weatherworn off-white wood paneling. I close my eyes and smell the wood and salt and rain. Some drops fall down from the gabel and land on my face, and I focus on their way down my cheeks.

I hear loud footsteps soon after. I open my eyes and see Leah and Paul, fighting. On their way to me. I swallow. She tries to grab his arm, but he shakes her off. He might be the tallest of them, apart from Sam, and his statue puts Emmet to shame. I’m having a sense of deja vu and wonder if Embry would laugh if he could see this now.

“You. Swan ” He’s close to me now. Leah looking small behind him for the first time since I’ve known her, “I’m so tired of you. We all are. How could you even show up here? After all you’ve done.”

“Paul-”, Leah tries to interrupt.

“No. I’m not hearing this. You’re not thinking clearly, too biased or whatever. She is the one who caused all this mess. Got caught up in vampire drama and what now? Waiting for your shiny Cullens to come back and save you?”

He scoffs. “They’re not coming. They are not cleaning up this mess you caused and I’m tired of us paying for it. I’m tired of protecting you, when we should be protecting our home.”

“Paul, stop this. You’re being unreasonable. It’s not like she wanted any of this.”

“Didn’t she? Did she not know what dating that leech would do? What it would cost?”

I don’t answer.

“I think we should all calm down a bit. Paul, come on.”

She grabs his arm and points at the door. The door where Sam and Jacob are standing watching us. Their faces unreadable, their bodies unmoving. Paul ignores her.

“No one is coming to save you!” His arms shake and for a second I think he’ll hit me. Leah moves between us so quickly I don’t catch it, apart from his angry glare, “Good luck doing it yourself. No one else here will die for you.”

I realize he’s right. I wasn’t a fighter until now. I’ve been lying in wait this entire time. Hoping the problem will solve itself or the Cullens would come back and do it for me. Cowardly, lazily, irresponsible. I knew all the consequences and everything that could happen and was too scared and unwilling to take the last final step. The one I know there’s no coming back from.

“Fine,” I look directly into his eyes. “I’ll do it myself.”

Chapter Text

Cross-legged in the dim light

They say, "What a sad sight"

15th - 18th March 

How does one plan to disappear? There’s more to it than what seems immediately necessary. What will I tell people? Will I tell them goodbye? I can't appear any different than usual, or I'll be doomed from the start. What do I do with the truck? Do I pack a bag? What does one wear for an occasion like this?

I think about what to tell Charlie. How likely is it for me to return and ever see him again? Would it be better to rip it off now, like an insurmountable number of band-aids? I consider leaving a note, maybe even staging a crash with some planted blood and disappearing entirely. Would that be better for him? At least it would provide some resolution.

But how deeply would he investigate? I don’t have fake IDs and neither the means nor the time to get them. I can hardly get a plane ticket as is, only my months of jobbing and disinterest in spending any of it amounting to barely the needed amount of money. Should I just leave without a word? Would he think I was kidnapped or killed? Would he ever stop looking?

I decide it will be a problem for later. It’s foolish, it’s childish and unrealistic. But I decide one brave task is enough and let it be. At least for now. I don’t know if I will be back, so I decide against staging anything drastic. I reconnect the landline and book a flight for Saturday evening, which will have me arrive in Italy on Sunday morning. 

From the airport I will take an array of buses and I have some notes and a map stashed away in my bag, which I printed in the library. It’s not a lot to go off, but judging from the Cullens and their love of grandeur, I believe I will find them. I don’t know how many there are, but that number of vampires must be noticeable in some way.

Friday is my last day in school. Maybe ever. I don’t do anything unusual to arouse suspicion of any kind. It’s not like I’m the focus of attention anyway. I listen to them talk at lunch and look at them for the last time. I’m thankful to have had them, even though they could not understand what I’m about to do. And I’m glad for them. I’m glad they will have normal boring lives.

Maybe Jessica and Mike will finally end up with each other, maybe not. Mike will take over the family business in the camping shop. Angela will probably go to a college far away, flourishing like she already is. Perhaps Erik will follow. I’m proud of them. I’m happy to have spent this time with them. I stash it away in my mind. Things weren’t always all bad. I will need to remember that with what’s coming.

After school, I pack my carry-on bag with enough clothes for a few days, toiletries, and a few books. Leah gifted me one before all of this and I want to take something of her with me. I don’t need anything else. I have not booked a returning flight.

I clean the house up a bit and cook dinner for Charlie. He’s still at work, always is these days. I think back to the few months we spent together. Only fourteen months spent in Forks, and now almost more time without them than with them.

I think about who I was when I arrived on that plane from Arizona. What would have happened if I never came back. But mostly I’m glad for it. Glad to have spent at least some time with Charlie, to have gotten to know Leah. Even if it means it has to end now.

I drive to La Push that evening, for a date with her. She insisted. I haven’t talked much to her since the Paul incident. She was mad. First mad at him, then mad at me. She tried to talk me out of it for a while. Then she yelled at me, which I probably had coming. I’m steadfast in my decision. It’s the only way I see now, after Laurent’s attack and Embry and all the humans missing.

Leah knows that too. Eventually she crumbles and accepts what I already know. This is what I have to do. Finally, I have something: a plan, a course of action, a future—even if it's a bleak one. Even if this is the end, at least it's something.

We meet in the coffee shop. It’s not open, but Leah has the keys and no one will come to check on us. I think about setting up a pot, but my heart is beating fast enough as is. So I just make my way inside, with my bags left in the trunk of the car already. I will not be going home again before the flight. I’m scared I would talk myself out of it despite it all.

Leah’s sitting on the loveseat in the corner, the one with a broken leg from the time Seth kicked a soccer ball against it. It’s old and the leather is cracked, but I still like it. I like everything in the shop, because it’s all full of history, full of the Clearwaters, full of Leah. I have gotten to know it all over the last five months.

I know that one of the windows has a different tint than the others, because Leah punched through it when she first found out about Sam and Emily. I know that we always stock extra apple pie, because that’s Harry's favorite. I know that Leah’s favorite color is purple and she has that one sweatshirt that she wears so much that the waistband is holding on by mere threads. Still, she looks lovely in it.

I sit down beside her and she holds up the blanket she has been sitting under to wrap me in it too. It’s still fairly cold. The heater is older than us, installed by her father when he built this place for them. Everything is so different from Cullen’s here. It has become my sanctuary with everything going on, a refuge from the storm. Just like her.

We don’t talk much. Everything has already been said and screamed over the last few days. She offers me a bottle of whiskey eventually and I accept. I feel like maybe this is my last chance. I don’t have the time or the effort for a huge bucket list anymore. The flight is booked, the bags packed, the cat is in the bag. This is my last night. And I’ll spend it with Leah. 

***

The next morning we sit across from each other at the table in the middle of the room. There is a haphazard breakfast between us, espressos and expired apple juice. The distance between us feels tangible, despite last night. The space between the table stretches on forever, like an invisible line. I cross it first, enveloping her hand in mine. It still feels new and exciting, but there is an underlying familiarity to it now.

She goes further still. The kisses taste like coffee and maple syrup and I’m thinking this is it. This is what was supposed to be from the start. I don’t even need Alice to know anymore. Part of me is angry for all the wasted time, for him telling me we were soulmates. But with Leah sitting across from me I can’t think of it anymore. All I can think about is how much I love her. 

But I don't say it—not now, not when it would sound like a goodbye.

The day stretches on. We finish breakfast and sit at the beach for a bit. It’s quiet. I begin to feel like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. The lamb and the lion. Only it’s not him I have to be worried about anymore. 

It’s not long before I’m standing in front of the truck again. I will need a couple hours to get to the airport and go through security. I left Charlie a note on the fridge, telling him I'm with Leah. It'll buy me at least a day before he starts to worry. 

 Leah will have to lie to him and tell him she never saw me and he will realise I disappeared. I feel bad because of it, but it’s better than the truth.

Before I enter the car, Leah leans against the door. “I want you to know you’re not being brave. You’re being very dumb. And you’re going to get yourself killed.”

I look down to the ground. Of course, she’s still mad at me, it’s Leah. The last hours almost made me forget what I’m asking of her. What I’m doing to her. 

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“I think that I like you. I think that I don’t want to lose you,” she says. She moves my chin up with her hand, forcing me to look at her.  “I don’t want you to go.”

I want to tell her that I don’t want to go. That I will stay or we will run away together and leave everything behind. Vampires, shifters, death and despair. But it’s not the truth. In my heart I know I have to do this. And all the begging and talking will not change a thing.

All I say is: “This was always going to happen. It was another goodbye from the start.”

She frowns. “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me Swan. I will drag you over here again myself.”

I smile. I almost say it then. I love you. “Okay. See you later.”

“Yeah,” she laughs, finally. “I’ll see you.”

Even if only in my dreams. As long as I can dream, it will be of you.

19th March 

I sleep for most of the flight. It’s the first long distance one I’ve taken, but it goes over smoothly. I don’t get held up at security and my phone is shut off ever since I left Forks. I probably shouldn’t have taken it, but it’s my connection to home. I can’t bear to part with it now.

Rome is bustling even in the early morning hours. I think back to what I told him about always wanting to visit Italy. How ironic. I catch glimpses of the sights from the corner of my eye. Despite everything, it's beautiful here—warm, bright, with coffee shops brimming with couples and families. I try not to think about Leah.

I take a train to Florence and then three buses. I buy some food from a bakery in between and by then I’m almost out of money. Turns out last-minute international flights cost quite a penny. If I’m not picky, I will have at least enough for a hotel for a few nights. 

My carry-on suitcase rattles loudly on the cobblestone streets of Volterra as I get out of the last bus. It’s afternoon now, the sun burning down hot on me and reflecting off the windows of nearby buildings. It’s beautiful, I have to give the Volturi that. Small streets not meant for cars, tiny colorful shops and elegant Mediterranean architecture.

I make it a few steps before I realize something is happening, and I stop dead in my tracks. The bus turns around behind me, but my gaze remains fixed on the road leading into the city. It is bustling with people, more than I expected for a village like this. And they’re all wearing red robes.

For a second I think they’re vampires. A whole town of vampires, somehow kept secret even now. I catch a glimpse of a couple walking next to me, sun-tanned Italian skin and carrying gelato in their hands. Not vampires then. They were wearing black robes in the portrait anyway.

I find a small tourist center on my map. It is crumpled by now, but still legible. It takes me a while to find it with the Italian street signs and my bad sense of direction, but I make it eventually. I wipe the sweat off my brow and go into the small yellow building. 

There are only three people inside. One middle-aged woman behind a wooden counter and two tourists, who are speaking French from what I can gather. There are postcard stands and information pamphlets. I grab the few that are in English. They advertise today - St. Marcus Day. I open it and read a few blocks of text.

It was today 2000 years ago that vampires were driven out of the city. I briefly wonder who started that rumor - humans or a bored vampire king. At least it explains the robes.

I consider asking for attractions, but then again what could she really tell me? I can’t very well ask where the local vampires live. I store my carry-on in a locker room on the side and go outside again, holding the little booklets clutched to my chest. The marketplace is close to here and easy to find, just allowing the flow of people to pull me along.

There is a giant fountain in the middle, people sitting around the steps going up to it. I take a seat at a nearby bench, a bit away from the meddling crowds. There are people everywhere now - billowing robes, laughter and the smell of baked goods.

I study my pamphlet and the surrounding area. From here I can see the castle. I think about if they would live there. A bit on the nose? I study the exterior. It’s large and imposing, encased by tall walls and overgrown ivy. There are only a few doors visible from here, and most of the windows are hidden by curtains. I have a flashback to reading Dracula. But this is not Transylvania. 

As the sun is setting I’m almost ready to give up. I can’t very well break into a building I’m not even sure is the one I’m looking for. When I get up I see her - a vampire. She’s not wearing a red robe. Hers is dark gray. She’s moving around the shadows, gracefully. Her hood is drawn back, revealing pale skin and a dazzling smile I can make out even from the other side of the plaza.

She’s holding a clipboard. That strikes me as odd. I was expecting ancient vampire kings, secret passageways, and maybe even coffins for effect only. She looks almost modern. Her sleek updo hairstyle might be more suitable for a ballroom, but she’s wearing fashionable sunglasses and red-bottomed high heels. A black pantsuit peeks out when her robe moves.

I move over and notice the crowd gathered around her. Tourists, judging by their clothes, cameras, and the mix of languages. I find some Americans quickly and stand beside them. It’s easy to blend in.  Just as I readjust my backpack, she clears her throat. I almost roll my eyes. How could anyone ever believe this charade?

“Everyone ready?” She looks around. Her gaze glosses over me entirely. “Just follow me. Please remember, flash photography inside the castle is not permitted.”

She turns around, her robe swishing behind her. The tourists follow her in a daze and I wonder if she has a gift. It’s not hard to guess how these humans will end up. For a second I think about trying to save them. Could I call the police? Could I scream and tell them they will die? I shake my head, dismissing the thought. None of that would work. There is nothing I can do. Again.

We go inside the castle through a tall wooden door. It’s colder inside. It’s well maintained, with art adorning the walls and antique furniture filling the hallways. There is no sunlight inside, all the curtains drawn. No one seems to notice.

I know I can’t follow all the way. I can’t bring my case if everyone around me is being slaughtered. My heart beats faster, but either the vampire doesn’t notice or doesn’t attribute it to anything out of the norm. The next corner we take, I fall back. I pretend to tie my shoes, then take a few steps back. The crowd walks further away.

Before she notices me or tries to hunt down the straggler, I run in the other direction. I don’t know what I’m looking for. The hallways and doors all look identical. I think I can hear a voice coming from one direction. It sounds human - high and off-pitch. I go in that direction.

After a few wrong turns and dead ends, I make it to a foyer. There are two elevators, a set of stairs and a bunch of doors. In the middle, there is a large wooden desk, covered in files and with a human woman behind it. At first, she doesn’t see me. She’s talking on a phone, fast-paced Italian I can’t make out. I go up to her.

“Excuse me?”

She looks up at me and drops the phone on the desk. “Come sei arrivato qui?”

“I don’t speak Italian, sorry. I was hoping…” What was I hoping anyway? “... to talk to the Volturi? The … kings I mean?”

Now she’s just staring at me wordlessly. “I would like to report a crime. A vampire one, I mean.”

She sighs heavily. She hangs up on whoever is on the other line, dials a new number and stares at me with raised eyebrows as it connects. Again, she speaks rapid Italian. More agitated than before. Is she angry or scared?

There is a pause as she listens to the other side. I can’t make out anything. Eventually, she gives a short answer and hangs up.

“A member of the guard will be with you shortly. Please take a seat.”

I sit down on a chair in the corner. My backpack digs into my shoulders, so I take it off and set it beside me. I pull my phone out again. I try to turn it on, to send a message to Leah. The battery is dead. I slump back into the seat. There is no going back from this now.

Chapter Text

I cause no harm, mind my business

If our love died young, I can't bear witness

19th March 

The vampire who arrives isn’t what I expected.  She looks more alive than any of the Cullens and from a distance, I might mistake her for human. She walks like I would, slightly off balance, a sharp contrast to the usual soft gliding I’m used to. Her hands twitch at her sides  and her eyes drift around the room, almost like a nervous tick.

Up close I can tell she is far too otherworldly to be human. Her hair falls down her back in soft strawberry-blonde curls, held back by pearl adorned clips. She is tall and lithe, wearing black slacks and a white button-down with a patterned sweater vest on top. 

I stand up, cocking my head in confusion. A vampire in a sweater vest? She’s wearing glasses, too. They must be fake, but I have never seen any of the Cullens wear them for cover. There is a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, open and manila folders poking out. She could be mistaken for a student.

She goes up to the secretary first, exchanging a few sentences in what sounds like Italian. Then she turns to me, smiling slightly and adjusting the glasses with a press of her fingers.  If she is confused by me being here, she is surely not showing it.

“Hello,” she says in accent free English. “My name is Cassandra. Pleasure to meet you. If you want, we can take this to the office and gather your statement.”

She holds her hand out to me. “Isabella. Bella,” I answer.

I shake her hand. It’s ice cold and I draw away on instinct. I’m not used to it anymore. She smiles again and I begin to feel unsettled. Without another look, she turns around and walks back down the corridor. I gather my backpack from the ground and follow her.

There are more portraits on the walls in this part of the castle. I manage to catch glances at a few of them. There is an eclectic mix of old and new, the oldest one I see from the middle ages and the newest one barely a hundred years old. They’re all of vampires, some of the kings I recognize and even one of Cassandra I see, dating back to the 1850s. 

After a few turns, she opens a nondescript door. We go inside the room, which looks like an elegant version of a school office after a tornado swept through. The walls are paneled and dark green, the heavy curtains on the antique windows for once drawn open and allowing the last rays of the sun into the room.

The left and right side are completely covered in built-in-bookcases, filled to the maximum and overflowing stacks towering in front of them. There is a ladder clipped to both sides too, secured in a slightly rusted metal rail.

In the middle stands a desk, ornate and dark, with a laptop lying on top of it, next to piles upon piles of folders, magazines and newspapers. I spot American headlines, Italian journals I saw at the airport, and what looks like police reports stamped with the Canadian flag.

“I hope I didn’t startle you.”

I look back at Cassandra, who’s eyeing me expectantly. Her skin shimmers slightly in the sunlight, not enough to really have the full effect. I glance out of the window, to see if anyone is still outside, but this side of the castle overlooks a private garden, cinder block walls, a patch of grass and old trees. It must be the edge of the village.

“No,” I answer carefully. “It’s just been a long day. Long week, really.”

“That’s okay,” she replies. “Before we start, I want to give you this.”

She opens a drawer in her desk, shuffles around and pulls out what looks like a velvet jewelry box, covered in white decorations forming an elaborate sigil. There is the grandeur then. 

She pulls the lid up, grabs whatever is inside and holds it out to me. It’s a bracelet. I take it carefully, the gold glistening and cold beneath my fingertips. It’s a relatively simple chain, holding a V in the center, set with small red stones.

“V for Volterra and Visitor. A 2-in-1 deal.” She grins widely at me. “This will ensure your safety and passage in the castle. I would advise against taking it off.”

I twist it in my hands. “What would happen if I took it off?”

“Let’s not find out, shall we?”

I shiver. Still, I wrap it around my wrist and close the clasp. It fits perfectly. “Okay.”

She sits down, opens up her laptop and looks over the screen at me. “I think we should get you settled in for a night and take your statement tomorrow. You can tell me the concerning covens or individuals, I will prepare everything and we’ll talk at breakfast.”

I realize at that moment why she seems different. She’s modern. Not like the Cullen’s, who buy the newest designer clothes and try to remain a cover. She’s believingly modern and almost ordinary. Her clothes are worn but from this decade, her office is not meticulously organized, her nails are painted with a chipped coat of black nail polish.

She types away while maintaining eye contact. “Who are you?” I blurt out.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“No,” I shuffle around uncomfortably. There is an armchair in front of her desk, but I remain standing. “What is your role here? I thought I would meet with the kings.”

She stops typing and folds her hands on the table instead. “Alright, I guess a proper introduction does not hurt. My name is Cassandra and I’m part of the inner guard of the Volturi. In your terms I would probably be called ‘Head of Research’.”

She gestures to the folders and papers lying around her.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who has not answered a single one of mine.” 

I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off. “That’s alright. I think I got a read of the situation. No answers necessary for now. You will meet the kings tomorrow afternoon, if I deem it necessary after I take your statement.”

I stare at her for a bit. I remember what Alice told me about him . How they would hold entire conversations using their gifts, without ever saying a word.

“Are you gifted? Another mind reader? But that never worked on me.”

“Don’t worry, your thoughts are safe from me, that’s Aro’s job. I’m otherwise proficient.” She stands up. “That will be enough meddling for now. Save some guesses for tomorrow and we’ll see if you get it right. Come on now, I’ll escort you to a guest suite.”

I hold my backpack against my chest and follow her, as we move to a different part of the castle. By now I’m entirely lost and wonder if it would be too much to ask for a map. It seems much bigger from the inside, maybe by hidden extensions or downplayed by landscaping and the organic nature of the whole complex. It’s difficult to imagine where it starts and ends.

We pass one vampire on the way. She looks younger than me, but I can tell by her hazy red eyes that she is in fact much older. Her flaxen blonde hair is brushed back harshly, and her gaze on me is just as hard. Cassandra does not stop for her, only gives a small nod and I’m glad to pass her quickly.

“How many vampires live here?” I ask her after the next turn.

“Scared?” She throws me a gaze over her shoulder, her hair bouncing slightly on her upper back. I frown in irritation. I forgot how perfect they are. “No need. I’m afraid the number is confidential. More than the Cullens, I can tell you that much.”

“I never mentioned I’m here for the Cullens.”

She laughs. “I thought you’re here for Victoria?”

“I didn’t mention that either.”

“You will find the Volturi do not like the unknown. I do not like it either. The truth is important, Isabella Swan,” she says and comes to a halt.

The door she opens looks like any other to me and on the whole way here I have not seen a single sign. I give a short sigh before I follow her into the room. It looks like a fancy hotel suite, nondescript and in muted colors. The bed is on the opposite wall underneath a small window, and an open door on the left side leads to what looks like a bathroom.

“Someone will get your luggage for you. Tomorrow, I will accompany you to breakfast and we will discuss all the details.”

I turn back to her. Somewhere along the way she took off her glasses and they are now peeking out of the pocket of her pants. Her eyes are a dark red, just like Laurents. Almost black in the dim lighting of the hall.

“How long will I stay here? Can I leave?”

“That depends - if a trial proceeds, how quickly a verdict is reached, what your fate will be.” She goes back out into the hallway and holds the door knob in her hand. “I would advise against leaving. For your own good.”

After she departs, I sit down on the bed and just breathe for a while. I grab my phone out of my bag and put it on the nightstand, but the battery is still empty. I leave the rest in the bag, too nervous to unpack. Eventually there is a knock on the door. No one is in the hallway, but my carry-on suitcase is standing in front of me. I don’t make the effort to question how it got here so quickly. I plug in my phone.

I take a shower in the bathroom, using the products already there. There’s even towels and a toothbrush on the sink. I get ready for bed quickly and mechanically, thankful for the exhaustion of the day's events dragging me down. As I drift asleep, I realize I never gave Cassandra my full name either.

20th March 

I wake up early the next morning. I can tell by looking out of the window. From here I can see the clocktower and the empty plaza, only occasionally seeing  people going to work in the stores. I don’t recall being up during the night or any noises or nightmares, but still I quickly glance around the room. What would stop them from coming in here anyway? I look down at the bracelet still on my arm.

I change clothes again and by now I’m almost out of them. I brush my teeth, drink some water and place my suitcase and bag by the door, just in case.  I consider calling Leah, but I decide against it. I send her a short text and don’t wait for the reply. My mind goes to Charlie, if he noticed my disappearance by now, and I’d rather not find out just yet.

As expected, I don’t have to wait long until there is another knock on the door and Cassandra is guiding me through the castle again. It’s shorter this time. A way I can memorize, only a couple turns and the door is wider, discernible from all the others.

It’s an industrial kitchen, with an array of food standing ready on the cutting block in front of the metal cabinets. There’s a dining table on the other side of the room, small in comparison to the array of kitchen equipment. Cassandra sits down with her laptop, while I busy myself with gathering a plate together. I grab coffee too, thinking about Leah again for a second before I make my way over to the table.

I sit down and start picking at my food. “How did you know everything?”

Cassandra looks slightly less human now. Her eyes are brighter today, and I think back to the tourists from yesterday, but push it away quickly.  She’s wearing a suit, crisp black and cut perfectly. No glasses, but I can see an ornamented necklace lying prominently above her blazer. Gold and displaying a V just like my bracelet. Claimed .

“For once, everything is a strong word. No one can know everything,” she leans forward across the table. “Secondly, do you think we would not know you’re in the city? That Heidi would let a human just get away from the group?”

I swallow dryly. “So you’ve been following me from the beginning?”

“Yes.”

“And you know about the Cullens and Victoria too?”

She shrugs her shoulders and smiles warmly, like she didn’t just admit to stalking me, to knowing about all the missing persons and never lifting a single finger.

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“Why didn’t you do anything,” she echoes.

My hands holding the coffee start to shake. “I’m just a human. I’m doing something now.”

“We’re not the mortal police, Isabella. We don’t act on every human death. We gather information, we consider, and act if necessary.”

“So how does this work, then? You hold court, enforce the rules, punish the guilty?”

“We don’t believe in guilt. Guilt does not mean anything after the action has already been done. We believe in truth, in responsibility. One we all share.”

I think back to Laurent and Embry. Responsibility. I think about them . How could they just leave like that? Where’s the responsibility in that?

“What about you?” I ask.

“Whatever about me, Isabella?”

“Who holds you accountable?”

I take a sip of my coffee, which has turned cold by now. I absentmindedly grab a slice of orange. 

“You’re quite a curious little cat, are you not? Let’s put your curiosity to use - tell me about the Cullens.”

She opens her laptop and types away, even without me saying anything. “Don’t you already know?”

“A bit. But personal emotions and descriptions help to get the full image.” She types quicker now. “You asked about my gift - do you want another guess?”

“Invisibility?

“No, although we do have someone like that in the castle. Can you tell me when you last saw Victoria? You can have another guess too, if you’d like.”

“March of 2005. I saw Laurent, one of her previous coven mates, a few weeks ago though. He tried to kill me. But I know Victoria has been stalking me.” I nibble on my bread. “Empath?”

“I’m afraid not. When did you meet Edward Cullen?”

I realize what she’s doing then. Answer for answer. A trade. Responsibility . I down the rest of my drink.

“January 18th 2005. When did you join the Volturi?”

“I joined about three hundred years ago - shortly after Carlisle Cullen left.”

An image of the painting flashes in my head. The kings and Carlisle together. Together even when I burned them. Sharp orange flames licking across their faces. Destruction. Death. Release.

“A replacement?”

She looks at me quizzingly. I have the vivid image of a shark in the water, surrounding a shipwrecked on a piece of wood.

“Carlisle is not a gifted vampire. And he was never part of the guard. He was a visitor - Aro’s visitor, but a visitor nonetheless. He left when he found his moral high ground in danger.”

“So you think you’re better than him?” 

“I don’t think about him at all.”

I’m finished with my plate now too, the food settling heavy in my stomach. Cassandra is sitting close to me, but she didn’t mention the smell of the food one single time, like they would do. I consider my next guess and think about how her eyes flicker around the room sometimes. I think about Alice.

“Premonition?”

She closes her laptop and gets up. “Quite good, Isabella. I think that should be enough to discuss with the kings.”

I grab my plate and cup and go to the sink. I wash them up and place them on a drying rack. Cassandra hands me an apple before I can make a move towards the fridge. “I thought you might enjoy this.”

I eye her warily. “How does your power work? I thought the same gift does not exist twice.”

She gives me a bottle of water before replying. “How would you say any of our powers work, Isabella? Any of this? If you’re asking about how I use it, let me ask you this: what would you like for lunch?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t see the future, like maybe your departed companion Alice does. Although I must admit I have never met her, so please enlighten me about her power, if you so wish.” She rocks on her feet and grins sheepishly, her eyes flashing dangerously. It’s so easy to forget what they are. How she could kill me without me knowing if she wanted to.

She continues. “I see options, possibilities. Statistics. I see you having pasta most likely, but also other options that are less probable. I see every path. It’s easy for small things like lunch after all this time. For big things, scenarios with multiple feeds of input, it’s harder.”

“So you guess?”

“Well, the future's not set in stone, is it? Even a clairvoyant must know that. With the ability to see every possibility, it’s simple math after that.  I analyze, I plan and I execute.”

“So you guess.” The grin bleeds away and I’m afraid I have said the wrong thing.

“Perhaps you could say it like that. Let me know what you think after.”

“After what? The court?”

“Sure, let’s leave it at that. Now, come on, it’s time we make haste. The kings do so loathe waiting.”

We exit the kitchen again, but take a different way back. One I don’t recognise, neither the way back to her office nor the way back to my room. It seems to lead to a more active part of the castle. I overhear some conversations and the hallway gets wider as we go along.

“You know,” Cassandra says as we walk, her tone casual, almost conversational, “the Volturi are probably different than what you were told. You might have to rethink the Cullen’s motivations.” She glances over her shoulder, meeting my eyes with a knowing look. “And your own.” 

Her words hang in the air, heavier than her calm demeanor suggests. I wonder how she got to be a part of the Volturi —what she’s done to earn her necklace and standing in the guard. I wonder what I will end up doing.

We go through a tall wooden door into what looks like a break room. There are couches, bookshelves and even a TV on one wall. Sitting in one of the chairs is the vampire I saw yesterday, looking up from her phone at us.

Cassandra gives a polite nod. “Jane, this is Bella. She’s a guest of the Volturi. Bella, this is Jane, a member of the inner guard.”

Jane’s gaze sweeps over me with cold detachment.  I briefly think about offering my hand in introduction, but think better of it.

“I’ll go brief the kings,” Cassandra says and places her cold hand on my shoulder for a second. “And gather the guard. No harm to Bella, Jane.”

With that she goes back through the door we came through. I stay standing, unsure what to do with myself.  Eventually I go a few steps into the room, trying my best not to imitate a deer in headlights. I begin to shiver, regretting not putting on a jacket.

After a while, Jane stands up and turns to me, her lips curling into a thin, unimpressed line. “So... you’re the Cullen’s little pet?”

I frown. “No. No I’m not.”

Irritation bubbles up in me. After how Paul treated me—all the constant insults, the way he and the others looked down on me like I didn’t belong—something in me feels dangerously close to snapping.  I don’t want to be seen as the Cullen’s anymore. I am mine before I am anyone else's. 

 “Is that so?” She takes a step closer, her gaze flicking down to my wrist. Before I can react, her cold hands grab my arm.  She examines the bite mark there, her eyes narrowing with disdain. 

Without thinking, I jerk my arm away and glare at her. “Touch me again, and I’ll rip your hand off.”

The words come out stronger than I expect, and for a moment,  her  expression falters, before her lips curl back into a cold smile.

“I’d love to see you try, human .” She spits the last word like a curse, her eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. For a moment, I think she might act on it. 

My heart pounds in my chest, but I stand my ground, refusing to flinch under her gaze. I won’t give her the satisfaction. Cassandra chooses this moment to come back. 

“That’s quite enough, Jane,” she says firmly. “Don’t threaten our guest. We wouldn’t want to upset the kings.”

Jane’s smile fades as she steps back, her eyes never leaving mine. “Let’s head in. They are ready,” Cassandra says, her voice soft yet insistent.

***

She leads us to a final set of grand double doors. They open in front of us as if automatically, but once we go through I see vampires on either side. The room is vast, the ceiling high with a dome in the middle. Light filters in from narrow windows near the top, casting sharp beams onto the gleaming marble floor. There are grates set into parts of the stone and I avoid them generously.

I recognize the kings on elevated thrones at the far end of the room. The dark haired one sits in the center, his black robes draped around him like shadows. To his left is the second king, with his pale hair a sharp contrast against his dark cloak, and to the  right, the third sits almost motionless, his eyes dull and lifeless.  Around the room, lining the walls stand members of the Volturi guard.

When I eventually freeze, Cassandra grabs my shoulder lightly and guides me  into the middle of the room. She moves a few steps to the side, but stays close. Jane disappeared somewhere along the way.

The one in the middle steps forward onto the podium. His black robe swirls around him as he claps his hands together, smiling faintly as his gaze lands on me. There’s something unsettling about the way he looks at me, like he’s staring right through me.

“Welcome to Volterra, Miss Swan,” he says, his voice smooth, laced with a hint of amusement. “I trust your stay has been agreeable so far.”

I manage a nod, thinking about what reaction an unacceptable answer would bring.

“My name is Aro Volturi,”  he gestures to the other two kings. “Allow me to introduce my brothers, Marcus and Caius.”

He takes a step closer.  “Like your Edward Cullen, I too can read minds.” His smile widens, as if he enjoys the comparison. “However, I require physical touch, and when I do... I see everything.” He lifts a hand as if to demonstrate, his fingers hovering in the air between us. “Every thought you’ve ever had. Every memory.”

I swallow.  “That won’t matter,” I say, my voice more defiant than I feel. “Edward could never read my mind. I’m a shield.”

“May I have a try?”

“Go ahead,” I answer.

The moment his fingers brush against my hand, I realize I’m awfully wrong. A flood of memories surges forward, beyond my control, replaying in vivid detail: Edward’s face, Victoria’s fiery hair, Leah’s voice. It stops abruptly when Aro lets go of my hand.

“Rara avis,” he murmurs. “A rare bird indeed. I must admit, I’m intrigued by you. Edward was quite mistaken about your gift, though. You are talented, but you are not a shield.”

“So you saw?” I swallow hard, my voice barely steady when I ask, “If I’m not a shield, then what am I?”

Aro tilts his head, studying me. “Your mind is not impenetrable, but I can see … something. It’s an unusual gift, strong even though you’re still human.”

“What is it, then? Do you know?” 

He moves back a step. “You have to understand something about the Volturi, Isabella Swan. Nothing is ever given freely. You have to give us something, if you want something in return. Otherwise you would not be worth our time.”

“So that’s what you do?” I wrap my arms around myself as words bubble out of me. I think this may be what he wants - to rile me up and see how I’ll react. “Quid pro quo? What about the law? What about protecting humans? The world?”

He laughs. “Who do you take us for, Isabella? The United Nations?”

“Someone protecting the law, not thinking they’re above it.”

His smile fades. “Nemo est supra legem,” he answers and points up. I see the same words inscribed around the edge of the dome, set in stone.

“Nobody is above the law,” Cassandra translates next to me quietly. 

“Not even you?”

“Especially not me,” he says, turning on his heel to ascend the stairs again, elegant and almost floating, like this is all an intricate theater piece. He sits down on his throne. “Tell me Isabella Swan, how would you imagine the world to look like without us? Vampires, free of law and punishment, roaming unchecked.  Would you favor this scenario for your humankind?”

The question catches me off guard. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I find it hard to believe that you’re the only thing keeping peace in the world.”

Aro leans forward. “Without the Volturi, the world would fall into chaos. Nomads, like Victoria, would be free to kill without consequence. Is that what you want?”

“No,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with how you... rule. There has to be another way, one that doesn’t involve fear and control.”

“Fear and control?” he echoes, as if the words amuse him. “Is that how you see it, Isabella? A tyrannical fist crushing the weak beneath it?”

Before I can respond, he waves his hand, dismissing the notion with a flick of his wrist. “There must be order for there to be peace. And thus, we need to be governed just as much as you do. Your precious Cullens might take the moral high ground, convincing you that restraint is all that matters, that they are somehow above the rest of us, but they are wrong.”

His eyes narrow. “We are not evil, Isabella. We are lawful.”

“But are you really so different from the ones you condemn? You still kill humans.”

“And you kill to feed, do you not? This might surprise you, but we have... modernized since Carlisle was last here. The world has changed, and so have we. Technology has made it difficult to cover up missing humans, so we have become contributors to science, blood banks, and other ethical means of sourcing sustenance.”

I look at Cassandra, head of research. She just stares back blankly. I wonder how many ways of sourcing blood she has researched in her life. How many have failed.

“Ethical blood, then? Surely you can’t tell me you don’t kill at all.”

“I would never dream of such a thing, Isabella. Killing is part of our nature and I find myself bored and unwilling to the Cullens idea of invalidating it. We kill less and with time we won’t have to, at all.”

“But you still will.”

“You’re free to destroy local ecosystems like the Cullens do with their hunting of extinct and diminishing wildlife populations, if you so wish, are you to become one of us.”

“At least they don’t hurt humans.”

“They don’t?” He eyes me from head to toe. “Were you not hurt?”

“It wasn’t their fault,” I reply, my voice firm. “Victoria attacked me, not them. The Cullens would never hurt me willingly.”

“That stands to be determined. The Cullens may claim moral superiority, but their ‘vegetarianism’ is fragile at best. Without Carlisle’s influence, the family would crumble.”

“You’re wrong,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction. “They care about humans.”

“I care to disagree. I have had the fortune of meeting most of the family. Carlisle of course, dear Esme, our little wayward Edward, and Rosalie and Emmet Cullen. They came for introductions in the 40s and have since been avoiding us after their two newest additions.”

He continues. “Esme Cullen is devoted to her husband, whatever for. She has had troubles adhering to the diet, and if her mate asked her to abandon it, she would.”

“And as for Edward, well, he’s already abandoned the diet once. He spent years as a hunter, killing humans, acting as his own judge, jury, and executioner. He’s only adhering to this diet because of his own tormented world view and religious trauma, not for the true goodness of his heart.”

I want to speak up, but he doesn’t stop. “Rosalie Cullen is an interesting personality. Brought into this life more unwillingly than any I’ve ever seen. Her attachment to humanity is not a choice of virtue but of bitterness. She clings to whatever shreds of her human life she believes she has left. And Emmett? He would follow her without question if she decided to feed on humans.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Aro leans back on his throne, smiling. “Because I want you to know who you’re defending. I want you to see the truth, so when the time comes, you’ll be neutral. Justice, after all, is what we seek.”

“I’m not one of you,” I say shakily. “I’m not a Volturi.”

“Of course you’re not,” Aro replies smoothly. “But are you a Cullen?”

I don’t answer for a while, the silence stretching between us. I consider which answer would get me out of here alive - or rather unalive.

“No.”

“Cassandra, dear,” Aro says, his gaze still locked on mine, “would you read the charges for the court?”

Cassandra steps forward, her voice clear and unwavering. “Isabella Marie Swan, you are here as a witness in the trial of the Cullen family and the nomad Victoria. They stand accused of violating vampire law—exposing the secret of vampirism to humanity, and turning and hunting humans with abandon, respectively. They will be brought before the court to testify, as will you, until a majority verdict is reached and justice is served.”

Aro addresses me. “Is this your truth, Isabella Swan? Are you willing to testify in this case in front of the court of the Volturi?”

“Yes,” I answer, my voice stronger now. “Yes, I will.”

Aro shares a glance with the other kings, a silent conversation passing between them.

“I do believe,” Aro says finally, “it’s time dear old Carlisle paid us a visit, don’t you?”

Chapter Text

And it's been so long

But if you ever think you got it wrong

21st March

Cassandra tells me they will take a few days to gather Victoria and the Cullens. Either willingly or by force, some members of the guard will bring them all the way to Volterra. There is nothing I can do but wait in the meantime. Wait and think about seeing Victoria again - about seeing him again.

So after the secretary from before brings me breakfast and lunch,  I take to wandering around the castle, feeling caged in my room after a restless night. The bracelet always clung to my chest, catagolizing the turns and doors, until I stumble into a garden after dinner. It is a door like any other, but it leads to a small fenced-in section on the back of the castle.

I can’t see anything from the village here, the walls taller than me. There is no gate and only the one door to leave. It’s beautiful, glowing in an array of colors in the setting sun. There are high beds with herbs, patches with different kinds of flowers and an iron pavillon overgrown with white roses. There’s a bench under it, and sitting on top is Marcus Volturi.

I didn’t expect to see him here –  in the throne room he seemed like a statue, more dead than alive. I hesitate but find myself moving closer. I haven’t spoken to Cassandra since yesterday and the only contact was with the human secretary, who escorted me to the kitchen at meal times. I almost feel like a ghost living in this centuries old castle.

Marcus doesn’t move or give any indication he notices me. Up close I can see he is holding one of the roses in his hand. I follow his gaze, but if it is directed at anything I don’t see it. The bench is long and I sit down on the other side, wrapping my cardigan around me. 

I study his profile, now closer than in the throne room. He seems ageless –  I can’t guess if he’s in his 20s or in his 40s. He still has a stoic nature about him, not bothering to act human like the Cullen’s do. He doesn’t blink and doesn’t move. He looks the most like a vampire from all the ones I have seen so far. Ageless, imobile, a perfect marble statue. 

I wring my hands in my lap and look down at the ground. I consider leaving again, but part of me wants to prepare for the trial ahead. To gauge their characters, their coven, their rules. Cassandra's words ring in my ears again. Questioning the Cullen’s motivations was not something I did in the past. But she is right that I can’t be sure what they told me is the truth. So I decide to ask the source.

“I can’t seem to figure it out,” I say slowly. “The Volturi. How all of this works. How you and Caius and Aro reign together. No offense, but you seem so different. I can’t imagine listening to Aro for hundreds of years.”

He turns his head slowly, and his gaze settles on me, heavy and distant. It’s the first time I’ve seen him really look at me, and it makes me feel exposed, like he’s seeing straight through to something I’m not even sure of myself. I’m not used to being seen. Not like this.

There’s a long silence before I speak again. “What is it like? To rule?”

Marcus turns his face away then, staring into the empty air again. “Already that ambitious?”

His voice is deep but smooth, not chalky and unused like I expected. He chooses  his words carefully, as each one seems to take considerable effort. There is hardly any emotion in his face, a stark opposite to Aro’s theatrics or Caius’s snarl.

“Curious.”

“It depends on who you ask,” he says, twisting the rose in his hand. “For Caius, it’s power. Pure, unyielding power.” His voice is flat as he answers. “For Aro, it’s everything.”

“And for you?”

“Lonely.”

I consider this statement. In all my time with the Cullen’s, I never considered my future with them to be lonely. I would have had him, of course. The perfect husband. I would have had sisters and brothers and even something like parents. Would that have been the life I wanted?

I press my fingernails into my palm, a sharp pain stopping my track of thoughts. It doesn’t matter anymore - not now. I’m not lonely anymore. I have Leah. Losing her - that would be lonely. It would be more than that. I look back at Marcus. 

“What happened? For it to be like that.”

He doesn't answer. I think I know anyway.

“I’m sorry if I’m babbling, human and all. I can leave you alone if you want.”

He gives a minute shake of his head. “Don’t apologize for being human. You can’t help it.”

I’m kinda trying to , I think. But I don’t say it. 

“Well, I’m sorry for whatever happened to you.”

It’s quiet for a while after that. I almost stand up to leave, but he speaks up again.

“You have complicated relationships, Miss Swan,” he says. “A couple misdirections, only to end up where you’re supposed to be.”

I frown. “What do you mean? Being here? How would you know?”

“It’s a gift. Rather unassuming for the use of the Volturi. Nothing akin to Aro’s capabilities,” he smiles softly. “I see connections. Familial bonds, kinship, soulmates. Even hatred, if it’s strong.”

“So?”

I lean forward almost unwillingly, now closer to him than before. There’s a coldness radiating from him, even through his black robes.

“So, what do you feel for Leah Clearwater?”

Her name makes me shiver. I want to ask how he knows it. Aro must know it after reading my thoughts, but did he consider the implications? Did he see the shifters? A cold sweat starts to form on my arms at the thoughts of dragging them into this mess. I push it down.

“I don’t know. Can’t you see?”

“I would like to hear your own thoughts without influence,” he further twists the rose still in his hands. “Would you die for her?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. Dying seems easy. I should be dead by now anyway, according to their rules.

“Would you kill for her?”

I pause. The question hangs in the air between us, finite and unsettling. “Yes,” I answer, the word feeling heavier this time.

“How do you feel about that?”

I consider this for a while. I can’t tell what he’s looking for in my response. Is this still part of an act, or is he actually curious? What surprises a being who’s thousands of years old?

“Conflicted. Horrified. Afraid.” I twist the bracelet on my arm, which has left a small indent V on my skin. Branded . “Absolute.”

He gazes at the roses, bathed in the light of the setting sun. Now painted a glowing red.

“It's so awful to love, isn’t it?”

22nd March 

I don’t go to the garden again the next day. I keep on playing different scenarios in my head, trying to come up with solutions for them all. How to get away with a good verdict, preferably without dying, but also protecting the ones I care about. It’s exhausting.

I call Leah eventually. I have texted her a few updates the last few days, not daring to ask about Charlie. It’s early morning here, so around midnight in Forks. She tells me in a hushed voice about her last few days. The pack is divided still, some wanting to hunt Victoria out and some wanting to keep close to La Push.

She has not told them details of where I have gone, much to the anger of Sam. She has not phased since I left either, so he couldn’t pick it out of her thoughts. She has been spending time with Charlie, who believes I  have run away. Leah spins him a tale of going on a roadtrip to find myself, but from how I know him, he is not buying it.

I tell her only small details about the castle. I don’t tell her about Cassandra or the kings or the bracelet still stuck on my wrist. It’s not her world - the vampire rulers, the court, the danger. I want to keep her as safe as I can. I tell her the Cullens and Victoria will be summoned, so Washington should be safe for now.

I hang up with the feeling of missing her flowing all throughout my body. The day is off to a bad start after, when there’s a knock on my door at breakfast. It’s not the secretary this time - it’s Jane.

“The kings want to speak with you. I will escort you to breakfast and to the office afterwards.” 

She doesn’t wait for an answer. She turns around swiftly, her thick coat billowing like wings of a bat, and struts down the hallway. I grab a jacket and run after her. When we get to the kitchen, she pulls out a phone and clacks away on the keys while I quickly grab a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee.

Even though she’s not looking at me, I can see her lips thin as I prepare my food. Her hair is pulled back sharply, showing the angry crease in her forehead, making her look like a vengeful Boticelli angel.  I frown my brows in irritation. 

“Did I do something to you?” I ask, the words sharper than I intended.

She turns to me, her cold eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You seem to dislike me,” I say, meeting her gaze. “What did I do?”

“You take yourself very highly, Miss Swan.” She puts her phone away, walking over to me slowly. Besides me, there is still coffee dripping from the machine into my cup. I have the swift thought to throw it into her face.

“To put it in simple terms, so even you may understand, you are quite an annoyance. I don’t like individuals breaking the law and evading the consequences.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re still here though, are you not? Waltzing around vampires, hoping to what? Get your insufferable boyfriend back? Be spared from being killed? Be turned?”

I grab my cup, ignoring the burning on my hands. I don’t answer. I don’t know. She must know that, judging from the smile appearing on her lips.

“You should be careful what you ask for.”

My appetite suddenly gone, I stir some sugar into my coffee absentmindedly. I blow on it to cool it down, feeling like an animal on display. In a way, I suppose I am.

“Do you know how old Carlisle Cullen is, Isabella Swan?”

“Roughly. 400 years or so.”

“Do you know how old the Volturi are?”

I lift my cup up and drink a sip. “No.”

“Our kings trace back to Grecco-roman times. Do you know how the first courts of those humans worked?”

I shake my head.

 “The draconian laws. Scribed in blood rather than ink. Almost all offenses were punished with death.”

I put my cup back down with shaking hands.

“You should treat the Volturi with their deserving respect, Isabella Swan,” she puts her phone away, turning around to leave the kitchen.  “And you should be scared.”

After I hastily follow her, Jane wordlessly escorts me to a different part of the castle. Not the great hall this time, but a big office filled with the Kings, Cassandra and a few other members of the guard. There are lots of wooden filing cabinets all around the windowless walls and a big chandelier illuminating everything in a warm glowing light, almost giving the impression of a medieval movie set.

There’s a smell of burning incense in the air and the stale quality of an old library. Aro is sitting at a massively ornate desk at the far end of the room, Caius  is talking with a guard member in a secluded alcove and Marcus is studying the contents of a bookcase. 

Jane motions for me to step forward with an annoyed move of her hand, so I take a few quick steps before she can get the idea to move me otherwise. Aro looks up from the folders in front of him, smiling unsettlingly at me.

“I hope you had a good night, Miss Swan? I must admit we don’t often entertain human guests, feel free to let the staff know if there is anything you need.”

I give a short nod, but he is already continuing his monologue.

“Word has reached us that the Cullen coven and Victoria have been notified and will find themselves in Volterra in the span of the next two days.”

He stands up from behind his desk then, moving closer to me. As if on cue, Caius joins him on his right and Marcus looks over from his left. It reminds me of that one opera Renée dragged me to when she had her Classics phase - like this is all rehearsed and written out.

“My brothers and I have had a discussion of your fate, Miss Swan.” 

I look at Caius for a second, before my gaze lands on Marcus. He still looks as disinterested as ever, but I remember his words from yesterday.

“Will this end with you killing me?” I ask before I can swallow the question down again.

Aro looks almost affronted at the insinuation, while Caius smiles coldly.

“Who do you take us for, Isabella Swan?” Aro answers. “Ruthless killers? Judges without justice?”

“As someone with blood on their hands.”

“Blood doesn't just stop on your hands, does it? As if it would not curse any other part of your body if you were to spill it. Tell me Isabella Swan, do you believe in fate?”

“Isn’t that preposterous to ask me? I thought I was nothing more than a bug to you.”

“Still I’m holding a conversation with that bug, aren’t I?” He smiles widely. “If you were to entertain the question?”

“No. I don’t.”

“In justice? The law?”

I shake my head.

“What is it then, that you believe in?”

‘Leah’ , I think. But I don’t say anything. 

“What a curious thing you are, aren’t you?” 

I can feel Marcus's eyes on me then. Behind the mask of nothingness, I can almost see myself in his hazy red eyes. I can feel him seeing me, seeing my bonds, seeing right down to my core. 

“Do you wish to die, Isabelle Swan?”

I still look at Marcus, even as I hear the annoyed undertone in Aro’s' voice. I think about what happened to him to be like this, how long he must have felt it. I felt a spark of it when he left me, but I know I could very well end up like him if something happened to Leah.

I think about my life back in Forks. I miss Charlie desperately, and however this ends I probably always will. This is the moment I realize I can never truly go home again. It settles something inside of me, something I didn’t realize was there. Because I realize this was never about going home. I had thought the Cullen’s would be my home - but they never were.

Forks wasn’t either. I don’t belong there anymore. I don’t belong with the shifters and I know too much to ever belong to the humans again. The thought pops into my head that maybe this is where I belong. Among the Volturi, with a dark robe of my own. Protecting justice and peace, guaranteeing the Cullen’s mistakes are never repeated. 

But Volterra is not home either. I can tell that much by the look in Marcus's eyes. He told me yesterday what my home was  –  Leah. And I know there is only one way I can go back to her. I don’t want to die. I want to live. However I can.

“No. I don’t want to die.”

“Then I believe we have a suggestion for you.”

23rd March 

The next day a storm rolls into the city. Gusts of wind blow against my window and the sky darkens so much I don’t see glittering skin all day. Part of it reminds me of home. It reminds me of Charlie and Leah. It reminds me of what I have to lose.

Breakfast is a quick affair, a half empty cup of coffee abandoned on a kitchen cabinet. Cassandra gathers me in a rush and brings me to the throne room again. She tells me the first arrival is today. She doesn’t tell me who it is, out of cruelty or abandon  I can’t tell.

I don’t have to wait long for the answer. After she leads me to a wall far from the thrones and the entry, she moves to stand only slightly off the thrones. Jane is standing next to her, looking like a child next to her tall frame. They’re both dressed formally and wearing their cloaks. In this light I can tell Cassandra’s is a shade darker, almost black. The only darker ones belong to the kings themselves.

The door opens again with a thundering creak, a group of vampires entering the room. A couple in standard Volturi get-up and in their midst Victoria. I push down the urge to step back, only the wall being behind me. A shiver runs down my spine.

She steps into the middle, her hair dripping with rain and leaving little droplets all over the marble floor. Her clothing is tattered and stained, her eyes a gleaming red. She looks every bit the predator she is, though her expression betrays no fear. She stands tall, her gaze sweeping over the room before landing on me.

She doesn’t say anything, but offers a cold smirk. I keep my eyes trained on her, even though it would not do me any good if she decided to make a run for me. I tell myself I’m safe. There is nothing she can do to me in this room full of vampires. That’s why I came here.

Aro stands up from his throne, just like he did when I arrived. Victoria's gaze snaps from me to him and her grin bleeds away to a scowl. 

“Welcome to Volterra, Victoria Sutherland. I hope your journey was pleasant.”

She stops under the middle of the dome, the vampires around her dispersing to the walls among the other guard members. 

“I can’t say it was.”

“How unfortunate,” he answers, his smile never wavering. He turns to Cassandra. “Please, read the charges for the court.”

She steps forward again, just like she did two days ago. “Miss Victoria Sutherland stands accused of exposing the secret of vampirism to humanity, and turning and hunting humans with abandon.”

Aro looks back at Victoria, but I can tell she is not looking at him anymore. She is staring at one of the guard members. It’s the one who brought the tourists in - Heidi. Her cloak is a medium shade of gray and she meets Victoria’s gaze, almost apologetic. But even without her attention, the court proceedings go on.

“Are you ready to address this court freely and of your own volition? Are you prepared to hear the accusation and stand witness?”

Victoria’s head snaps to him quickly, her hair leaving drops of rain all over the floor as she moves. 

“Freely, huh?” She glares at Heidi again. Then at another vampire I don’t know, one with glassy eyes and blonde hair so light it’s almost blinding. “As free as I can be here.”

Cassandra is next to Aro in a flash, tapping his wrist before moving away again. 

“As I see, the Cullens will be arriving tomorrow. Court will adjourn until all witnesses can speak.”

24th March 

The sky clears up the next morning. Of course it does. Like this is all some big cosmic joke and the Cullens can arrive in town through rays of sunshine and rainbows.  With the irritation of seeing Victoria still creeping under my skin, the thought of trying to escape the castle pops into my head.

I don’t do anything, though. I try to hold onto the reason I came here – so this all could be over, one way or another. So Victoria would never hurt another human again and neither would the Cullens. So I could be safe. Safe for now, until they either kill or turn me.

I call Leah one more time, manage a few bites of breakfast and mess with my hair until Cassandra comes to escort me again. Some time yesterday clothes appeared in my room,  a comfortable but dressy set of pants and blouse. I try not to question it anymore and just put it on. 

The guard and kings are already in the throne room as we arrive. So is Victoria, who is standing at the far right of the hall. Cassandra moves me to the left side to stand on my own. The sun beams falling through the skylight reflect off the metal of my bracelet, throwing little glowing dots over the floor.

As she takes her place near the kings, the doors open again. I stare at the floor for a few more moments, not ready to see them again. As I look up, I find they’re not even looking at me. It’s him - him and Alice and Carlisle. No trace of the others.

“How unfortunate not all of you were able to join us, my old friend,” Aro starts from his throne.

Carlisle looks like he always did - an image of ethical morality, dressed up in slacks and a cardigan like a librarian. He keeps his eyes trained on Aro and walks towards the middle of the floor confidently. Alice and Edward follow him a step behind. 

Edward keeps his head bowed, messy copper hair falling into his face. Alice walks with her usual bounce in her step, her colorful clothing sticking out uncomfortably in the midst of the Volturi.

“We thought these members could give sufficient witness accounts - your guard agreed with us,” Carlisle answers. He gives a short look to the Volturi member next to him, just as they disperse among the others. 

Aro smiles. “We shall catch up with your lovely wife another time then.”

He gets up from his throne now, holding his hand out to Carlisle. “May I?”

He answers with a sigh before reaching out and clasping his hand around Aro’s.  I can’t tell what he sees in the exchange, his face never once changing expressions. From the distance I can only see the tight grip he has on Carlisle’s hand and what looks like glee in his gleaming red eyes.

Eventually he lets go, going back to his throne but remaining standing. From the podium he is the tallest in the room now, his black coat cascading to the marble floor below him. I can make out a heavily adorned necklace even from my place on the wall, like one of those garish crucifixes from the renaissance, only it is a crest instead.

Cassandra now sits a few spaces from the podium, in what almost looks like a small transcriber’s desk. She stares at her laptop before her, pressing a few keys before nodding her head at the kings.

“The Volturi call the first witness in the trial of Isabella Swan vs. the Cullen Coven and the nomad Victoria,” she says.

I can feel my heart starting to beat faster and try to take deep breaths to calm down. I don’t look at the vampires to my left or right, fearing what I might see in their faces. I twist the bracelet on my arm again, hoping Cassandra keeps her promise of safety. 

“Carlisile Cullen, head of the Cullen coven, changed in 1663,” she moves on. “ Do you swear to tell the truth in the immortal court of the Volturi?”

He bows his head, the first sign of submission I have ever seen from the head of the Cullen family. “Yes.”

Aro sits down again. He looks at Marcus and Caius for a moment, the latter meeting his gaze. For a second I wonder how many courts the three of them have gone through since the creation of the Volturi. If they can tell from the beginning how it will end. Surely Aro must have an idea, after reading the witness's thoughts? 

Caius leans forward. “When you allowed your offspring Edward Cullen to bring Isabella Swan into your home, were there discussions about her fate? Was there an intent to turn her?” 

Carlisle finally looks at me then. The same old look I remember from back in Forks. Only it does not feel benevolent or kind now. It feels like I’m a dirty speck on the image he has crafted of himself and his family.  Someone who does not belong to the Cullens anymore. 

“Alice told us she had a vision. Apart from that it was a topic of conflict in the family. Various members opposed her presence or her turning,” he says. “Rosalie certainly did. Jasper was not impressed either.”

Caius raises his eyebrow. “So you ignored the rule of exposition? Pushed it to a later date?”

“I thought Edward would turn her.”

I can hear Marcus draw in a breath at that admission. “You thought they were mates?”

Carlisle looks taken aback. “I did. I do.”

I wonder if he knows of Marcus’s gift. If he knows how wrong he was. 

“What did you think when you left her? Alone and not turned?”

He shifts for the first time since he got here, like he suddenly remembers to act human. “Edward told us she was upset. There was an incident with Jasper. He was always struggling to stay in control, with his gift and being the newest to the diet.”

“The vegetarian diet, as you call it?” Aro cuts in. 

“Yes,” he answers. “Edward came to me the day after. He said Bella didn’t want to have anything to do with us anymore. That she was scared and it would be better if we left instantly.”

“What made you believe him?”

He shrugs. “He’s my son.”

I suppress the urge to scream. I don’t know what’s worse – his willful ignorance or that I’m only starting to see it now. 

“So you left, not turning or killing her? Directly against the law which you yourself know well, having spent time with the Volturi holding court?”

“I was never a member of the court,” he clarifies. “And I thought…” he halts for a second. “I could not take a human life. And Edward said she didn’t want anything to do with us anymore. I did not believe her to be a threat to the secret.”

“You did not believe?” Aro shakes his head disappointed. “Belief is for the foolish, Carlisle. I thought you knew better.”

“I did what I thought was best. If there is punishment to be done, do it to me.”

“Ever the selfless one?” Caius counters. “You should know we punish the deserving.”

The deserving . I look up at the ceiling, at the words inscribed around the dome. Nobody is above the law. I feel Cassandra throw a glance my way and she gives me a small smile, like she knows what I’m thinking. Maybe she does, given her gift.

The pieces are starting to fall into place. I’m beginning to get it, just like she said I would. The justice, the truth, the law. That there is no black and white in this story, and that the Volturi are not the villains Edward painted them out to be.

“What did you know about Victoria?” Aro asks.

She does not move at the mention of her name, still standing like a statue on the wall opposite of me. Carlisle does not acknowledge her presence. “Not much. I thought she left after James perished.”

“Did you know he was her mate?”

“I did not. Not certainly. We never had a proper conversation.”

“Did you think to ask your son? Surely he would have known as a mindreader.”

“I did not.”

“Did you check she truly left? Did you check on Isabella after you left?”

I cross my arms in front of my chest. I know the answer, but I know it will hurt again nonetheless.

“I did not.”

Aro looks back to the others and grabs Caius’s  hand for a second. He does not grab Marcus’s, but he seems to be content with the exchange as he speaks again.

“If there are no further questions, bring forward the next witness.”

Carlisle moves a few steps back, now standing between Edward and Alice. Both have been quiet all this time, though I can’t tell if they have been conversing through their gifts.

“Alice Cullen, member of the Cullen coven, changed in 1920,” Cassandra reads.

She steps forward and offers Aro her hand before he can ask. He doesn’t hide his smile as he takes it. I remember Edward telling me how valuable her gift would be for the Volturi and I wonder if they have any idea what Cassandra can do. I see her wink at me over the edge of her screen, before she addresses Alice.

“Do you swear to tell the truth in the immortal court of the Volturi?”

“Yes.”

It’s not Aro that starts it this time, but Marcus. I can tell it’s not usual by the change in expression the others try to hide. 

“Why did you leave Isabelle Swan?”

Alice rocks back and forth on her feet. “The day after her birthday, Edward came to me. He said he couldn’t jeopardize her life anymore. That she was scared and he knew she wanted us to go away.”

“Did you question him?”

“No,” she says. “He was steadfast in his decision to leave. He told me it was better for Bella. I believed him. I did not see another outcome.”

Aro cuts in again. “You see the future?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Did you see a future where Isabella Swan was a vampire?”

“You already know the answer, don’t you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not how our court works, Miss Cullen.”

“Isn’t it?” Carlisle draws in a sharp breath at her question. “Yes, I saw a future like that.”

“Where she was a member of the Cullen clan?”

“Yes.”

My head whips back from the kings to her. She must be telling the truth, otherwise Aro would call it out. At least I assume he would. His character seems strange, but from everything I experienced so far the Volturi remain steadfast in their devotion to the truth and to their laws.

Still, I can’t imagine it anymore. I won’t go back to him and there is no other life for me with the Cullen family anymore.

“When did that first change?”

She cocks her head. “In the field, when James saw her first. And after that, when Jasper attacked her.”

“What future did you see then?”

“Her death,” she answers. “Bled out and broken like a doll.”

“And?” Caius presses.

“After we left - I didn’t see her future anymore.”

Aro throws a calculated gaze at me then. “Did you know Isabella Swan threw herself off a cliff a few weeks after your departure?”

I wish I could tell him not to use my private thoughts against me. But for better or for worse, that is what the Volturi will do. Uncover the truth, no matter the circumstances. So I set my shoulders back and tell myself that this is what I wanted. Now I have to deal with the consequences my actions will bring.

“I couldn’t, I didn’t…”

“I would advise against lies, Miss Cullen,” Aro intercepts. “I will know and I will not take kindly to it.”

“I had a vision of it. It was unusually hazy. I only saw her standing on the cliff. But she wasn’t alone, there was someone else there I couldn’t see.”

Leah .

“I did not see the result and I thought it might have never happened. I called the police precinct under a false name and they didn’t know anything.”

“But you knew what your departure did to her?”

“That’s a difficult question.”

I can’t suppress a dry laugh at the statement and she turns her head to me then, the first time I see her eyes again. After all this time and still the same amber eyes I used to hold so dear. The face I imagined as I was writing those emails, begged for her to write back to me. To love me, to tolerate me, to simply acknowledge me.

“Is it, Alice?” I ask. “How much did you know? Did you know how miserable I was?  Did you know about all the people Victoria turned or killed?  That Embry would die?”

 “Bella, you should calm down. I only did what was best for you. I knew it was the only way to get the others to agree with Edward. They were hesitant about leaving you, about the law. But I convinced them. For you.”

“For me? Are you insane?” I move to go towards her, but stop when the guard members around me start to move too. “You did what you wanted to do. What was best for you. I didn’t ask for any of this. For you to approach me, include me in the family and drop me like that.”

A horrible thought enters my mind. “Did you know from the beginning?”

“Bella, my vision are very complicated–”

“Did you? Did you know all of this from the very first day in the cafeteria?”

“Bella, you must know that I did all of this for you, for you to–”

I cut her off. “We’re done. I don’t care what you have to tell yourself in your warped mind, but this is it. This is the line I draw. I will never see you again after this.”

“Surely you can’t mean that. We were sisters, I know we can come back.”

She looks at me pleadingly. “This was always supposed to happen. I can fix it. I know what to do.”

“Maybe. But from now on, the future will be mine. Never again yours.”

25th March 

After a restless night, I go back to court on my own the next day. By now I can find the way with minimal difficulty and the time alone feels calming to my strained mind. The Cullen’s stand at the opposite side this time, while Victoria takes place in the center of the rome.

“Victoria Sutherland, nomad. Changed in 1567. Mate of the deceased nomad James, formerly traveling in a group of three with Laurent Da Revin, deceased,” Cassandra introduces.

“Do you swear to tell the truth in the immortal court of the Volturi?”

She nods and steps forward for Aro to take her hand. Her lips are pressed into a thin line and she looks almost ready to bolt at any moment. Her hair is braided down her back, her boots are laced tightly to her feet and her clothing is practical rather than court appropriate.

“Miss Swan has brought forth the accusation of reckless behavior, exposure of the nature of vampirism, and hunting without coverage,” Aro lists off. “What do you say to these accusations as the sole defendant?”

“I say Miss Swan is a measly human being with no idea what she has stumbled into. Her coven killed what was mine - my mate James. I covered my tracks. Changing is not against the rules. I did nothing wrong. They killed him, I was just wanting my justice.”

“Did you bring forward these accusations to the court before your actions?” Caius asks.

She wrinkles her nose, as if in disgust. “No.”

“Wouldn’t you call that vigilantism then, Miss Sutherland?” 

“Justice is justice. I’m not human. I handle my problems on my own.”

“And Miss Swan was a problem?”

She turns to me. “She was collateral.” 

She looks me directly into the eyes. “Don’t you think he deserves to suffer for what he did, Bella?”

Yes .

I’m surprised at the sudden thought. I thought I would always be the girl left behind. Forced to endure, to forget, to forgive. But I can’t find forgiveness in me now.

“The Volturi serve justice. The Cullens will have their own verdict,” Caius concludes.

Aro folds his hands in his lap. “How many humans did you turn, Miss Sutherland?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Oh?” He pauses for a moment and then talks towards Cassandra. “Please note for the court that there were 28 attempted turns, 21 of which survived into vampires. 8 currently remaining in custody of the Volturi in the United States, the others lost in battles between each other or after attempting to flee prosecution.”

Caius snarls on his throne. “Did you teach them the law, as is the responsibility of all sires?”

“I did not. I was going to do it after. The ones that survived.”

“A bit too late now, is it not?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Would you have stopped after your thirst for vengeance was quenched? Or continued your supposed rise to power, as you thought to yourself?” Aro pushes.

“I would have stopped.”

A pause erupts. One I cannot take anymore. 

“She wouldn’t have.”

Aro looks at me pointedly. 

“She slaughtered humans. She took them from their homes and turned them. There was no coming back for her.”

Aro clicks his teeth in annoyance. “Are you a part of the Volturi council, Miss Swan? I don’t recall.”

I turn to Marcus, but he gives a minute shake of his head. I take a breath and turn my gaze downwards in submission.

“Let’s adjourn. Tomorrow the final witnesses will be called before the verdict - Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen.”

Aro’s words replay in my head. Then I believe we have a suggestion for you. For better or for worse, the final decision I have to make.

Chapter Text

I'm right where you left me

26th March

I wake up an hour before sunrise the next day, hearing the distant sound of church bells. It’s not like I was in a particularly deep sleep anyway. With thoughts of the impending hearing bouncing around in my head, I have only managed to even out my breathing and rest my eyes for minutes at a time.

I don’t remember dreaming anymore, but a feeling of panic still resonates through me. I wonder how far Victoria is from me now - how far he is. If they can hear my laboured breathing and smell the cold sweat on my arms all the way through the castle. 

I get up to take a scalding shower, colouring my skin with a pink tint. I make a point not to look in the mirror as I slowly get dressed. The clothes the Volturi provided for me are dark and soft. A blend of silk, wool and fine cotton. I pick a dark red blouse, black slacks and throw on a maroon jacket over top. I cuff the sleeves so the bracelet on my arm remains visible.

When I look out of the window again, the sun is slowly starting to rise. The sky is coloured in dark blue and bits of orange and I can make out the church tower from where I heard the bells earlier. It can’t be far, maybe only a few hundred yards.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m already out of the door. Court isn’t for another few hours. I don’t know if I’m allowed to leave, but with the impending ruling it hardly seems like it matters anymore.  The cobblestones feel cold under the thin soles of my sneakers, but the crisp air feels nice on my flushed skin. 

It seems like forever ago that I arrived in the city. The streets are empty now, a stark contrast to the bustling crowd from the festival. The fountain splashes quietly as I pass it and leave the castle behind. I don’t look back. I don’t want to know if anyone is following me.

I don’t find a direct route to the church. I can see the bell tower even from the plaza, but the streets are intricate and I turn into multiple dead ends until I see the old building in front of me. I wonder if it’s open, not being used to the customs of the country.

There is no one around,  so after a glance left and right I push against the front door hesitantly. It’s a small church, the tower making up most of the complex. The stucco is glowing reddish in the rising sun and the wood of the entrance is covered in intricate carvings.

It gives way with a soft creak that echoes through the empty street. There are only candles lighting up the inside, reflecting softly of the stained glass windows on either side of the corridor. The benches sit empty, but there is a figure standing in front of the altar.

My first instinct is to leave, but I recognize the Volturi robe even from the other side of the room by now. It’s pitch black, making it hard to make out the shape beneath it. But even after only knowing them a few days, I have the feeling only one of them would come here.

I walk down the middle, wondering if he is allowed to be here. If anyone could forbid him from it. For the first time since coming here, I’m starting to wonder about the logistics of the town. Do the Volturi own all these buildings? Who do the townspeople think is living in the castle?

I have half a mind to ask Cassandra later, if she was allowed to even tell me anything , let alone the truth. But in the end, the answers will not change the outcome of today's verdict. So I push the thought away, now arriving at the end of the room.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

He gives a minute inclination of his head and I take a seat on the first bench, looking at the intricate window design and the cross standing in front of it, golden and illuminated.

“So the holy ground thing is a myth too, then?”

“The Cullens have truly not taught you well.”

I sigh. “I’m beginning to see that,” I agree and fold my hands in my lap nervously. “But I think most of them had good intentions.”

“Did they?” 

He pulls his hood back now, but doesn’t turn around. He almost looks like he belongs - an ancient marble statue in the middle of a grand religious hall.

“I guess that is to be determined today,” I say. “What do you think?”

“I think influencing a witness of the court is wrong, Miss Swan,” he answers. “But let me ask you this - did you trust them? Do you trust them now?”

I consider his questions for a few minutes. I only thought about love, and of course I loved him. I loved him and her and the whole family. Of course I did. What else could it have been?

But did I trust them? I replay the events in my head. James’s attack, the run from Victoria, the incident at my birthday party. Did I ever feel safe with Edward? With the constant awareness of my blood, his tormented feelings and the urge for me to live a normal human life that I stopped wanting the moment I learned their secret.

“No,” I breathe out. “I didn’t. I don’t.”

He nods. “All we’re asking you is to tell the truth to the court, nothing more.”

I want to argue that it’s not that easy. That there is no way my truth is the same as his. But I start to realise that that’s what they do, what the Volturi have always done. It’s their responsibility to hear all the truths and base their decision on that. To somehow find objectivity and make sure justice is reached.

“I don’t understand how you do it,” I comment. “How can you stand sitting on that throne, watching everything unfold around you, knowing it all depends on you?”

“Does it?” He pauses, gaze stuck on the altar.  “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you realize nothing depends on you. Time erodes all things, even power.”

“But you have power. The Volturi control everything.”

“We don’t control everything. Aro believes we do. Caius fights to make it so. But in the end, what we hold is fragile. If one of us were to leave, the Volturi would surely fall.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I tried to.”

I feel my heart drop at his admission. Something I felt I knew, but now the final puzzle piece falling into place.  “But you’re still here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Aro killed Didyme - his sister, my wife - the day we were meant to depart.”

I shudder and wrap my jacket closer to my chest.  “And you just stay here? With him? Doesn’t that go against all the truth and justice talk?”

“It was a long time ago. No one who knows is alive anymore, except him and I. In his mind he pretends I don’t know still,” he halts for a moment again. “How could I not? I see it in his eyes, even now. I felt two bands snap at the same time.”

“So he betrayed you.”

“He did.”

“Why are you still here, then?”

“Because he is my brother,” he says bluntly. Like it would explain everything. “There are better brothers, but he is mine. And because the Volturi can never fall, for without governance humans and vampires would surely fall next.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at me then. “Don’t be. Your gift, it is similar to hers. I feel a little part of her in you. For the first time in hundreds of years, I left the castle.” 

He laughs quietly. “I’m not sure if Aro is content or displeased. I don’t care.”

The sun is now shining through the window, colouring his face and the floor in spots of red, green and blue. He takes a few steps towards me and sits down on my bench, like we’re just waiting for Sunday mass to begin.

“Do you know how it works? My gift?”

“I’m afraid that is not within my power. I know someone who could. I’m sure Aro has contacted him by now. Always eager to banish any gaps of knowledge.”

He takes my hand, his icy and heavy, but I don’t shudder from the cold anymore. “You should take his offer. I will assure your protection.”

“What if I don’t?”

He turns his gaze back at the cross, glowing yellow in the morning light. “Then maybe you should start praying.”

***

“Edward Cullen, member of the Cullen coven. Changed in 1917,” Cassandra addresses the court. “Do you swear to tell the truth in the immortal court of the Volturi?”

It’s later now, the sun standing high in the sky. I thought it would be different seeing him again - more. But he isn’t even looking at me. I want to yell at him, to punch him, but I’m forced to stand on the opposite wall, in between guards as still as marble pillars, being forced to watch.

This is what I wanted, I tell myself again. It is, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. 

“Yes.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard him talk since he left me on the forest floor. I wish he would sound different, but he sounds just like he always has.

“Do you believe Isabella Swan to be your mate?” Marcus asks.

I bite my tongue as Edward frowns. “Yes.”

“What made you believe so?” Aro follows up.

“The natural pull towards her. I couldn’t hear her thoughts. And her blood…” he looks down at the stone floor. “I had never experienced something like that.”

Caius perches up in his seat. “So you thought the urge of wanting to drain her dry was the call of a mating bond?”

“That’s not what I said. If you could let me explain further, I…”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aro cuts in. He stands up from his throne and walks down to stand in front of him. “If I may?”

He holds out his hand like it’s a choice. Edwards knows as well as I do that it isn’t. He takes it without complaint, but I can tell from his posture that he hates every second of it. I don’t suppress the small smile forming on my face.

Aro lets go after a few seconds, clearly pleased with what he saw. “Why did you leave Isabella Swan?”

“I wanted to protect her.”

“Did you?” Marcus asks. “From what?”

“From us. From this life that she … wanted. From the damnation of her soul.”

“Do you think all of us are doomed, boy?” Caius snarls. “Do you think every single person here is? Your father, your sister?”

He sways slightly. “I don’t think you know what I mean. I love my family, but this is not natural. It’s not normal to be like this, to kill humans and drink their blood.”

Aro sits back down at his throne and places his chin in his hands. “What is normal then, dear Edward? Whatever is in the bible? Whatever you determine to be normal? The same was said about the shape of the earth thousands of years ago that you now say about vampires.”

“You can tell me whatever you want, but vampires are monsters.”

“Including you?”

“Yes,” he crosses his arms. “Especially me. I wanted to save Bella from that.”

There is a pause in questioning for a minute. I look around the room, taking in the faces of everyone. Victoria has a carefully crafted neutral expression, but her legs look ready to start running any second. Carlisle and Alice are stuck watching Edward, shaking their heads every now and then. And Jane is smiling, like she knows what is to come.

And I think I know too.

“What did you tell your family, the Cullen clan, when you left Miss Swan behind?” Caius asks.

Edward glances at them quickly, maybe communicating with Alice before turning back to the kings. “That I wanted to protect Bella and it was better for us to leave.”

“And?”

“That she wanted us to,” he answers and looks down again. “That she was scared of Jasper and all of us and we should go.”

“So you lied?”

“I think she was scared of Jasper. What human would not be after what happened? She would have wanted us to leave sooner or later.”

I scoff, but he doesn’t even turn towards me.

“Did Alice tell you so?” Aro wants to know.

“Alice…” he considers for a moment. “She said she didn’t see Bella’s future anymore. Which would mean her death, surely. So I thought leaving would be better.”

“Did she see Bella’s future again after that?”

“Only glimpses. It must have been the shapeshifters, she can’t see around them. I didn’t know.”

Caius shoots a look at Aro then and I want to ask Edward to shut his mouth right then and there. He can’t know about Leah, there is no way he can. But I can’t risk him bringing any of the other tribe members into this, not after everything I’ve already done to them.

“You never know, huh?” I cut in.

Aro raises his brow in irritation, but I don’t care. He’s finally looking at me - those same amber eyes trained on me, pleading and sad. I can’t find a spark of empathy in me anymore. All that remains is anger and irritation.

“Bella, I just wanted you to have a normal life.”

“Because it was that normal to begin with?”

“That’s quite enough,” Aro interrupts. “Are there any more questions or do we want to move on to our last witness, if she is already that motivated?”

The other two shake their heads, so I make my way to the middle of the dome. Edward walks away quickly, stopping next to Carlisle. 

“Isabella Swan, human,” Cassandra reads. “Do you swear to tell the truth in the immortal court of the Volturi?”

I take a breath. “Yes.”

Aro makes no move to read my thoughts. There would be no point, as he has already seen them all. I wonder if the Cullens know. If Edward knows how wrong he was about my gift, how wrong he was about everything.

“When did you first realise Edward Cullen was not human?” Caius starts.

“A few weeks after I first saw him. He wasn’t hiding it very well. His reaction the first time he saw me and the fact that he saved me from a car crash with impossible speed.”

“So you confronted him?”

“I guess I wasn’t very smart,” I answer. “Or maybe just blinded by love.”

“And he told you the truth about him and his family?” Aro confirms.

“Yes. He told me and took me to meet them.”

“Who first brought up the concept of mates?”

“I heard the family mention it, so I asked. He told me about the concept. He told me that we were mates.”

“You believed him?” Marcus asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “I knew nothing about vampires, let alone soul mates or whatever you may call them. So when the guy I loved claimed that we were, I believed him.”

He nods at me to keep speaking. 

“In hindsight, I should have questioned him earlier. I shouldn’t have taken everything at face value. We never had the same thing I saw in the others. I think that’s why I wanted him to turn me so bad. I thought it would fix it. Fix me.”

Caius leans forward in his throne. “You would have let him turn you?”

“Yes. Without second thoughts.”

Which I probably should have had.

“So you never would have asked him to leave you?”

I swallow down my embarrassment and recall Marcus’s words from this morning. Just tell the truth . “No, I never would have. I begged him to take me with me.”

The kings exchange another look. Cassandra is still typing away on her laptop and I feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me by now. The feeling of resolution starts to settle into my gut. This is it. The end I wanted, or at least an ending at all.

All three of them stand up at the same time and Cassandra motions me to get back to the sideline. I walk back quickly, only looking for a short second at the opposite wall. Even with several guard members between them, the tension between Victoria and Edward feels almost grabbable. 

I wonder what would happen if they simply had it out. If that was the way the Volturi solved problems, by an old fashioned duel. But there is no favourable outcome for me there. I realise then that I don’t want Edward to walk away unpunished and the thought feels heavy and distant. Like Aro planted it there by his questions and tactics, manipulating me just like Marcus said he might.

But I can’t place all the blame on him alone. The time alone and the time in Volterra changed my views and changed me, maybe in more ways than I thought at first. There is a cruel irony to it, that the very change Edward wanted to avoid was brought on by his actions to circumvent them.

“I believe,” Aro says. “That concludes our witness testimonies. You have all been given ample time to contemplate your charges. Now is the time to state your pleas.”

Cassandra reads the charges again, even though vampires have perfect recollection and every word is already ingrained into my brain. They still follow their court protocol. She reads them out one after the other, and every person gets asked for their plea. 

Victoria is the first to plead ‘Not guilty’ and the others soon follow, until she directs her question at me.

“As you are the injured party,” she adds. “Do you wish to add a closing statement with your plea before the kings depart for the verdict discussion?”

I look across the room at Edward and Alice. I don’t even care about the others anymore. While I’m not sure if I’m able to forgive Carlisle, I know he only left because he thought it was what I wanted. And I knew from the start exactly what kind of person, what kind of vampire, Victoria was.

But Edward and Alice. They knew. They made me love them and then crushed me even though they knew what would happen. They decided only they knew what was best for me and that alone is enough to make me spit out my final words to them.

“This was always going to happen. Ever since you first saw me in the cafeteria.”

I try to control my voice, but it is unsteady. I push on regardless. I’m not sure which one of them I’m addressing, which one hurt me more.

“You made me into this. You forced this on me. And you don’t get to act all above and morally precious like you fixed everything by leaving me on that forest floor. Because that’s not how it went. Not for me. You brought me into this world. You promised to make me part of it. This is all on you.”

The anger is bubbling up in me, angry and vicious. Tears are threatening to spill on my cheeks. So human.

“You don’t get to be the good one. The tormented, selfless one. Nothing of what you did was for me. Pursuing me, leaving me. This was all just your little obsession with me and the only mind you cannot read. And I’m so sick of it and I’m sick of you.”

“Bella-” Edwards starts to speak up.

“No. You did this. You left me. You broke me. You robbed me of everything I had, I wished for, I wanted. You made me into this broken sad little thing, and left me to pick up the pieces by myself. You did this.”

I take in a shuddering breath, wiping the tears away with the sleeves of my blouse. The Volturi bracelet digs uncomfortably into my check and I cringe.

“And you know what? I never would’ve done this to you.” 

I turn back to Cassandra. “I do not wish to contend,” I nod at Aro. “I will take the king’s plea deal.”

22nd March (before)

Then I believe we have a suggestion for you. 

“What could you possibly suggest for me? A swift death?”

Aro grins despite the heavy tone in my voice. “You would be no use to us dead, would you now, Miss Swan?”

He stands up behind his desk and joins the other two kings in front of me, always in the middle. The guard members filling the room all start to leave until there are only the kings and me left. 

“Your continued state as human is not up for discussion,” he continues. “But you could have some say in how it happens. The Cullens have proven to not be valuable partners in the North Americas. My brothers and I would like to change that.”

I furrow my brows in irritation, not knowing where this train of discussion will lead. I can’t see myself going back to the Cullen’s after everything, even if they wanted to force me to do it.

“We want to set up a new outpost - it is a time of globalization, I was told. We want permanent members of the Volturi on every continent, each leading their own branch of operations. The Cullens can no longer be trusted to take over action such as this in America.”

“So what then?” I ask. “You want me to do it? Why?”

“You have a valuable gift, Bella,” Marus answers. “I suggested your instatement and my brothers agreed. You would report to us, but be free to remain in your home and make sure what happened to you never happens again.”

“And don’t think we forget about your little shapeshifters, “ Caius adds. “They are lucky they are not children of the moon, otherwise this conversation would not be happening. We can’t have them support a continued partnership with the Cullens.”

Panic begins to rise up in me. Aro seems to notice and cuts in again. “We don’t see any reason to harm them right now. If all they continue to do is protect their own land, you are free to offer them a partnership, amnesty or whatever you deem beneficial as head of the American chapter.”

I look between the three of them and think about the implications for a second. Chaining myself to the Volturi, at least for the foreseeable future. Maybe even forever, if Marcus is anything to go by. But would it really be that bad? I could go home again. I could be with Leah. I could make sure La Push and Forks are safe, even hundreds of years from now.

“What if I say no?”

Aro smiles. “You know the other option. We can’t allow you to stay human and we can’t let a newborn remain covenless.”

I exhale a shuddering breath. This is it then. Maybe in another life I could ask Carlisle to turn me now. But that ship has long passed. I never want to ask the Cullens for anything again in my life. And I don’t want to give Edward the satisfaction of getting what he wanted. 

“You have until your closing statement to decide.”

27th March 

It only takes them a day to reach their verdicts. I can’t tell if this is faster than normal. Perhaps it is an obvious case or maybe not sleeping helps to reach decisions quickly. I wonder if this is what my life will be like - consulting about the death of vampires and not even spending a day considering all the implications.

“Carlisle Cullen, please step forward.”

His face is sullen as Aro calls him towards the throne. I think back to the painting I found in his study all those weeks ago, which led me all the way here. How he was standing behind Aro then and how he is standing in front of him now.

“The decision has been made that your coven, or family as you so call it, shall be split up in pairs and barred from living in the North Americas for the next 100 years.”

Carlisle expels a shaky sigh, but gives no other inclination to answer. Eventually, he nods slightly and steps back without being asked to.

“Victoria Sutherland, please step forward.”

A member of the guard goes with her as she makes the few steps towards the middle of the room. I recognize him by now - it’s Felix, discernible by his tall stature and short dark hair.

“You leave the court no choice but to sentence your death. You broke the law of exposure and have been reckless in your path to your vengeance. Your newborns will be either killed, if laws were broken, or absorbed into Volturi outposts across the globe and help give others the guidance you never gave them.”

Her head turns around the room quickly, her red hair flying back and forth for a final time. She turns to me, then to Edward and starts to move. Everything that happens after is too quick for me to discern. There is a loud crashing sound, a blur of commotion and then there is nothing.

Victoria is on the ground in pieces and purple flames rise up under the skylight. I close my eyes. I can still hear it, the crinkling of the fire and the soft steps of the guard members going back to their positions. The smell permeating the room is sickly sweet and I wish I could stop breathing it in.

“Edward Cullen, please step forward.”

I open my eyes. “I would like to address the court again.”

Aro cocks his head to the side. “You would, Miss Swan?”

I step forward. “As a member of the Volturi and the injured party, I would like to ask for a corrective punishment for Edward instead of a final one.”

I can feel his eyes on me, but I remain focused on the kings. I can’t look at him now, not willing to take my pleading be seen as a sign of weakness.

“Do you think you’re here as a savior, Miss Swan? Do you think you can stand in front of this court and plead for the lives of those who flout our laws?” Caius asks.

“No,” I answer. “But I’m confident Edward Cullen is a troubled vampire. His death would not change a thing. No exposure caused by him causes outstanding issues. He should get a second chance.”

“The Volturi rarely give second chances,” Marcus says. “Why should he get one?”

“Because I was given one. I should be dead by now. Victoria was meant to kill me, or maybe Laurent or maybe even Jasper. But I got a second shot. And I don’t want any more people to die because of me.”

Marcus looks at Aro, who then turns to look at Caius. There is a heavy silence in the room, the fire burned down into a small pile of ashes on the ground.

“That is an interesting request, Miss Swan. Are you willing to stand for Mister Cullen as a permanent member of the Volturi, which you then shall remain for the rest of your life to vouch for the rest of his? Are you willing to serve the court?”

What would I do if I didn’t say yes now? All of this would have been for nothing. If I give up on the idea of becoming a vampire, I’m giving up myself. I wouldn’t know how to live a normal life anymore. Not that that’s even an option I have anymore.

I’m stuck in between. Not quite belonging to the humans anymore, not yet a vampire. There is no way back from this anymore. This is the best outcome I’m going to get. So I take it.

“I will serve.”

There were three things I was sure of. First, I was going to die. Turned into a vampire if I made it through the transition or bleeding out on the pristine marble floor of the Voluri. Either way, my life as I knew it would come to an end.

Second, I did not belong to Edward Cullen anymore. Or any of the Cullens. My love for them is long gone, replaced first by sadness, by anger and now by an annoyed indifference. There would come a time where I would not think of them at all. But there would be no more death.

And thirdly, I was in love with Leah Clearwater. Irrevocably and truly. And I would be forever.

Chapter Text

You left me no, oh, you left me no

28th March 

I go out to the garden the next day. I don’t know what will happen now, after everything has played out. The Cullens have not yet left, from what I gather, and I don’t know when I will. If I even will in the foreseeable future. 

I want to call Leah and talk to her. But what would I say? I don’t know when or if I can come to her again. If she even would want me like this. A vampire, part of the Volturi. If that is someone she could love. I’ve not even processed it myself yet.

So I go out to the garden, because I know who I will find there. In the days spent in Volterra, he has been a source of calm from the brewing storm. Even now, I feel better once I catch sight of him. I sit down next to him, closer than I did the last time.

“Did Aro plan all of this from the very start?” 

He gives a trivial shrug. “Does it matter?”

“In a way it does,” I say. “He is going to be my boss for the rest of my life, no? And there is no way for me to quit.”

“You’re still thinking in human terms,” he turns his head to me. “He does what he thinks is best for the Volturi. Your gift will be instrumental in keeping peace in North America.”

“Will it?” I ask. “I still don’t know what it is.”

“Eleazar has already been contacted. He agreed to come back for a consultancy, to guide your training once you turn.”

“And when will that be?”

“Soon. I’m afraid your continued state of mortality has irritated some members.”

A flash of Jane’s face enters my thoughts. Angry red eyes and shining blonde hair. Almost the same as James.

“I keep thinking what I did to her. She is so young and so old at the same time. How does that work? Always stuck in between.”

“Many of us are stuck in a way,” he states. “Your dear Edward has been stuck with his battle of righteousness for nearly a hundred years.”

“But isn’t she still a child?”

“She was. She isn't anymore since everyone she knew decided to burn her at the stake for their God.”

I recoil at the admission. I didn’t consider her turning or her human life and what might have brought her to Volterra. Thinking back to the Cullens, the realization creeps in that none of them were turned willingly. All at the brink between life and death, a decision made for them that can never be undone.

I begin to understand Rosalie’s anger and somehow very lightly Edward’s struggles, too – to have your life end so violently at such a young age, only to wake up to something you can’t even begin to understand.

I want to ask about his turning. If there are any vampires in the Volturi, anywhere, who chose this life willingly and did not have it forced upon them. Maybe that’s why most of them hate humans - they’re mourning what was taken from them.

“Do you believe in good and evil? In God?” I ask instead.

He laughs drily. “Good and Evil has nothing to do with God. But there was a time where people argued us to be gods,” his eyes meet mine. “What do you think?”

“I stopped believing in things a long time ago.”

“You should find something to believe in again, then. Justice, truth, hope,” his eyes unfocus. “Maybe Leah.”

“I haven’t called her, you know? I dreamt about her last night. But I don’t know how to tell her what I agreed to here.”

“Your bond is still strong,” he says. “It will survive.”

“How do you know?”

“Once you get as old as me, Bella, you will understand,” he smiles. “I also talked to Cassandra.”

I feel better at the admission. If a clairvoyant sees a good outcome, maybe not all hope is lost. 

“What would you dream about, if you could?”

“It is dangerous to taunt a powerful man with the one thing he can’t have.”

I make a move to answer, but we’re interrupted by the door to the garden flying open. It’s Jane, her dark eyes giving no indication if she overheard our conversation.

“Master,” she nods at Marcus. “I’m to escort our guest to her departure meeting.”

I take one last look around the garden, feeling like this will be the last time I will see it in a while. Afterwards, I follow Jane through the entrance and back into the castle.  She’s almost completely quiet, safe for a soft rustling of her robe. I can’t hear her steps even if I concentrate on them.

“I’m sorry for being human, by the way,” I break the silence. “Not that I can help it much, but I would appreciate some neutral ground for the future, whenever we work together.”

She doesn’t answer. I stare at her profile from the side, at her brushed back hair and buttoned up blouse. I notice a necklace then. It’s not the Volturi emblem, which I recognized as a brooch on her jacket earlier. It’s a small silver cross, half tucked into her neckline.

“You’re still religious?” I blurt out.

She looks unsurprised, so maybe she did overhear my conversation with Marucs. She tugs the necklace all the way into her top, hidden from view.

“Does that surprise you, human?”

“It is … unexpected. What reason would you have to hold onto that?”

Her gaze sharpens. “Why hold onto anything then? The simple answer is I want to.”

“So what do you pray for? Heaven?”

She doesn’t answer for a few turns and I begin to think she is not going to. “Salvation.”

“Didn’t Aro save you?”

“Of course he did,” she spits out defensively. “And I’m getting tired of this conversation. We’re here.”

It’s the same office from before, where I first got the offer to join the Volturi. It’s less filled now, only Aro and Cassandra sitting behind two desks near the back wall.

She stands up in a flash, her red curls making the hairs on my arms stand up. “Welcome back, Bella. I’m glad you can join us for this.”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

She picks up some folders from her desk and comes over to me. “I was just finishing up some documentation and going over your turning schedule.”

“Oh,” I say. ‘ How intelligent, Bella ’, I think.

“We thought it best to discuss it with you in case there are questions,” she continues on, while Aro watches amusedly from the back. “I have a print-out for you here.”

She reaches a paper out to me. I flash back to my birthday and take it very carefully. It is a long table of dates, descriptions and notes. I don’t read through all of it, already feeling overwhelmed by everything.

“This is all very… calculated.”

“Thank you,” she answers even though I didn’t mean it as a compliment. “There will be a lot to do later, like picking out a complex for the North American outpost and arranging the necessary equipment, but it would be best to focus on your turning for now.”

“Who is paying all of this? I have like a hundred dollars left.”

“Bella, if you think the Cullens are rich after Alice playing the stock market for 50 years, what do you think the Volturi are?”

I look around the room, noticing the antique furniture and numerous paintings. “I guess I never considered it.”

Cassandra giggles. “That’s okay. Your view of some things will change, once you become one of us.”

I try to decipher if she means a vampire or a member of the Volturi, but guess it does not make a difference to her.

“So when will I be turned?”

“I thought it would be good to talk to the shifters while still human, but I suggest not making contact with your human relations again. It is better to let them think you ran away and eventually have a body found.”

“A body found?”

“Ethical,” she assures me. “Someone matching your description, from a morgue. It is better to give your family and friends closure. After your talk with the shifters you will come back and be turned. Once you’ve completed basic training and left the newborn phase behind, you’re free to start your assignment.”

Charlie’s face flashes in my mind. I don’t know if he will ever get closure, even if they fake a body to be found. My mother and friends might be able to move on, but Charlie will forever be alone in that house wondering what happened to me. 

“It’s easier like this.”

I hear his words in my head again.

A clean break.

29th March 

I find myself back on a plane the next day. It all happened much quicker than I anticipated, leaving me hardly any time to be nervous or wreck myself about what to say to Leah. I packed what little I took back into the same suitcase and was driven to the airport in a car with black tinted windows.

It’s almost surreal to now take the same route back. As I wait to board my flight, I consider what would happen if I took a different one. If I ran away somewhere, would they drag me back? But there is no use to the thought. They know about Charlie and about Leah and I will stick to the promise I made.

The flight is over quickly. I half expect Charlie to somehow be at the airport with a cruiser, like he was when I first arrived in Seattle after the move. But it’s 6 AM and the sky is dark and no one is there. I buy a coffee because the day is going to be long and rent a car. 

Cassandra supplied me with everything I might need back in Volterra. A new identity, cash, and even a bank account I didn’t have the nerve to look at yet. It almost feels like I’m back with the Cullens again - having everything picked out and arranged for me.

But in a way I’m already a part of the Volturi now. And I will never be a part of the Cullens again.

The drive almost feels longer than the flight. The sun slowly rises as I make my way over highways and empty back roads. Spring is in the air already, marking the rundown of yet another year. One of many to come. In a way, I will finally get what I craved for so long. It’s almost ironic that this is how I’m getting it.

I’m travelling back home and seeing versions of myself plastered on the streets. The Bella that got here all those months ago from Phoenix, clinging to a cactus and a sense of longing. The one after, smitten and blinded by love or something adjacent. How it all got taken away and hollowed out on the cold forest floor. And the one I am now, preparing for death.

I don’t stop in Forks. I don’t know how Charlie is or what he’s doing, having not spoken to Leah in a few days. But I can’t see him again and then leave, so I go straight to La Push. I drive past the coffee shop, which looks closed. I make my way to the Clearwater’s house, but stop around the corner and not directly in front of it.

I pull on the hood of my jacket and put on the sunglasses Cassandra pressed into my hand before I left. It feels silly, but she assured me all would go well. If she knew because of her ability or simply meant to comfort me, she didn’t clarify.

There is no car in the driveway, so I know that at least Sue is gone. I glance at the windows and see no movement inside, and there is only light coming from Leah’s room. I go up to the door and knock. I’m not sure what I expected, but the door immediately opens, meaning she must’ve heard me already.

“You’re an ass,” she greets me.

I laugh. “I missed you too.”

“You’ve been gone 11 days and you haven’t called in 5. I might have to kill you.”

“I was in court,” I say. “And you might want to save yourself the trouble.”

Her eyes narrow. “What does that mean? What did you do?”

“Can I … come in?”

She’s still holding the door in a tight grip, but lets go abruptly. She pulls me into a hug and I go willingly. My face fits perfectly into the side of her neck and I smell flowers and wood and home . I release a breath I don’t know I’ve been holding. For a second she melts into me, holding me so tight I can feel it in my ribs. Then she lets go just as quickly and draws me into the house.

We go into her room, even though her family will not be back until late afternoon. We sit across from each other on her bed and I talk her through the last 11 days. It feels good to finally talk to someone I know about it. To talk to Leah about it.

Halfway through it she takes my hand. It’s warm just like I remembered, not cold like the last hand I’ve held. She draws small circles on my skin that only stop as I get to the final verdict. She smiles as I tell her about Victoria, but it drops as I get to my promise to the kings.

“You’re saying you want to join them?”

“It was the only way,” I say. “I didn’t see another way out of it. They couldn’t let me stay human and the Cullens were never going to turn me after I spoke out against them. It was the only way.”

I sigh. “I could have … I could have chosen death. Leah, you have to know that part of this is what I wanted. I might have not set out with the intention to join the Volturi, but I knew since I met Edward that turning is what I wanted.”

Her hand in mine tightens. 

“I understand if this is something you cannot see past. I wanted you to know the truth and now you do. Whatever happens, I will always protect you and your people. You have my word for that.”

“So that is all you want? To protect me?” she drops my hand.

“No,” I shake my head. “All I’ve ever wanted was to love you, to have a life with you. But my life is going to be with the Volturi from now on. I don’t want to drag you into that.”

“I would rather choose for myself what I want to be dragged into.”

“What if you lose your family because of me? Wouldn’t you hate me, then?”

“No, never. It doesn’t matter what I could have, not without you,” she chuckles. “I don’t really belong here much anyway, do I?”

“You’ll be better with a nice girl. I'll stain you. You may have to leave and never be able to come home again. I’ll be the reason you can’t go home.”

“I don't care,”she whispers.  “I don’t care,” she repeats louder. “Not if I can have you.”

“You can let me go, if that’s what you need.”

I almost want to shout at her. I’m going to be a vampire, the very thing you hate. But I see in her eyes that she knows all I’m going to say. How I’m going to argue that I will never be good for her. Good enough. The same argument again and again. I close my eyes and will myself to let it go.

“Never.”

I breathe out a sigh. She touches my check slightly, like I might counter again. But I don’t, not anymore.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” I say instead.

“I love you.”

“Why?”

I open my eyes, finding her to be looking back still.  “Because I don’t have a choice. It’s you and me.”

30th March

Leah arranges a meeting for me and Sam the next day. I’m not sure who else will be there, but in the end it does not matter. It will be a tough talk regardless. I try to prepare myself as best as I can, to imagine I’m already a Volturi member and can hide behind a big dark coat.

We meet at their house after lunch. Emily’s there, who greets me like I’m just a normal guest. The living room is blessedly almost empty. It’s just Sam and Jacob. I’m half-excited to see him, half-terrified. They both just nod at me as I sit down and Leah remains standing at the entrance.

“Why are you here?” Sam grunts.

“To say goodbye. And to tell you that Victoria will not bother you again.”

“So she’s dead?” Jake asks. “Did the Cullens get her?”

I shake my head. “The Volturi did. They’re something like the police and justice system of vampires. I kinda turned myself in and started a trial against Victoria and the Cullens.”

Jake raises his eyebrows in shock. “You did what?”

I shrug my shoulders in response. “I needed to do something to keep more people from dying. Victoria or the newborns won’t be a problem anymore. The Cullens will not come back either.”

“And what about you?” Sam follows up.

“I will go back to Italy to be turned.”

“You can’t mean that,” Jake yells. “All of this with the vampires and now you just mean to join them?”

“It’s the only way. The only way to uphold the laws and get everyone out unscathed. Well, everyone except Victoria. And maybe me if you want to count that.”

“Yeah, I think I’m counting that,” Jake says. Despite myself I smile, knowing he still cares what happens to me. I wasn’t sure that would still be the case after this.

“It will be okay, Jake,” I assure him. “Maybe not at first, but this is what I want. This is what is meant to be.”

I hear Sam scoff beside him. I know I will never convince him of this, but I don’t need to. I just need to convince him to trust me enough to protect them. If Carlisle managed to do it, there has to be a way for me to do it as well.

I turn towards him then. “I would advise against trusting the Cullens again. If they come back, which they are prohibited from doing, void the treaty.”

“And what do you suppose we do instead? Hunt them down? What about other vampires in the  rest of the country, will they still avoid Washington if it is no longer Cullen territory?”

“Make a treaty with me.”

“With you?”

“Make a treaty with Isabella Swan, member of the Volturi. Guard of the United States.”

He crosses his arms defensively. “You can’t be serious.”

“Think about it. I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’m asking you to work with me to protect what matters—your people, your land, your way of life.”

Sam stares blankly at me. “And what’s stopping you from turning on us?”

“Me,” Leah interjects from the other side of the room. They both turn to look at her, like they just now realised she was also there. “I will be with Bella after she is turned.”

“What about your brother? About Sue?” Jake quips.

“I love them. I always will. I will visit them if they accept Bella. But my life won’t be here anymore,” she looks at Sam. “It never was after what happened.”

He stares down at the wooden table, almost guiltily. Maybe he wonders what would have happened if he had never left Leah. If things would have worked out better for him if he had never broken her heart. Maybe Edward wonders the same.

“The times are changing, Sam,” I say. “ And we change in them. Think about it. I won’t ask you to share the city, I won’t even come back to Forks. It will be a better deal than you had with the Cullens. My protection, the protection for the Volturi. You just stay here and I will handle the rest of the country.”

“Think about it, “ I repeat. “I will be back after a year and ask again. I would like to work together, to keep the humans safe. But I will do it without you.”

31st March

I spent one last day with Leah before I have to take my scheduled flight back to Italy. Just like on my last departure, we go to the closed coffee shop and set up a nest of blankets behind the counter. I brew us some light roast, even though we should probably sleep instead. I just want to savour every moment now.

“Funny how I used to think I would never leave this town, huh?” Leah asks.

“We’re always going to come back.”

“I guess,” she blows into her cup. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Why?”

“I will see my family again, but I will outlive them. I think I was always going to. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the ones after will be safe. But I won’t need them anymore.”

She kisses my check, so natural and right I can’t help but smile. “I’ll have you.”

“I don’t care about the after anymore,” I say. “I just want you. I want everything with you. I finally see it again, you know? The point in it. The good. I see it in you. I see it in everything else because of you.”

I take her face in my hands and kiss her. I feel her smile into it, just like I am. I understand what Marcus was saying about the bonds before. I can almost feel the one between us now, golden and glowing in the dark. It beats in my chest along with every beat of my heart. 

She presses her forehead against mine. “Don’t you dare forget me.”

“I’ll forget my name before I forget yours,” I promise. “I'll come home to you no matter what. With blood on my hands, with death in my eyes. I'm coming to you if it's the last thing I do.”

I know how this ends. Maybe it took all of this to really know. All of this, just to end up here. All the heartache and pain and resentment. This is how it was supposed to go. I don’t need Alice or Cassandra to tell me now. I know this is it. This is it .

“Forget about all of that negativity. Just come back to me.”

“Always.”

Chapter Text

You left me no choice but to stay here forever

1st April

The returning flight to Italy is uneventful. It will be a long time before I can make it again, so I try to savour the landscapes and cities I pass on the drive back to the castle. It will also be a while until I can be with humans again, but I know I will be again eventually. I will do my best to make it quick.

The Cullens are on the cusp of leaving as I return. Cassandra tells me Carlisle and Esme will go back to England, but the others have not decided yet. They will be expected to check in regularly, and I’m glad I’ll most likely already be back in America by then.

Edward will be sent to a new outpost in Asia, forced to live with the Volturi guard for the next 100 years. A probation of sorts, not quite a prison, but also not a death sentence. It makes me nervous to think that any wrongdoing of his will fall back on me, but it feels better than his death being my fault.

All I’ve wanted in coming here was to prevent more of that. More death, more pain, more suffering. Even if I can’t find it in myself to forgive him, imagining his body parts burning to ashes on the pristine marble floor of the grand hall feels horrific and wrong.

I get the same room back I had before, not that I’m much better at orienting myself. I imagine the thought will be laughable once I turn, but for now I’m glad I can find my way to the kitchen and back. As I go for lunch, a vampire comes to find me.

It’s Heidi, the one from my very first day in Volterra. She’s stunning up close, maybe even more so than Rosalie. I can’t find it in me to care for it though. Despite her looks, there is an aura of gloom radiating off of her and I remember the look she shared with Victoria a few days ago, when she first entered the throne room.

“I hope you have settled your affairs,” she smirks at me.

It might be meant to unsettle me. I haven’t talked with her before, but almost everyone here seems to dabble in manipulation or at least crude remarks for fun. Maybe except for Marcus, even though his stark honesty and directness might not be much better for most.

“I did,” I remark drily.

She leans against the kitchen counter. “I come with an offer. A gift, if you so will.”

Infuriatingly it doesn’t even bunch the fabric of her blouse. The shiny red velvet clings perfectly to her frame, like she just stepped off a runway in Milan.

“Oh?”

“Not many here got to make amends, to say their peace,” she answers. There is a bitter edge to her words. “I thought you might want to.”

“Why?”

Her smile drops. “Because I would like to if I was you.”

“No, why are you offering this to me?”

“Because,” she says and idly twirls a perfect mahogany curl around her finger. “I thought it was what you wanted, too. And once you join us, you’ll be a part of the coven.”

I can’t imagine being colleagues or even friends with her or Jane or any of the vampires I met so far. They seem so different to humans with their characters and habits, that I don’t even know what I would be doing with them.  But then again what are the Cullens doing? Playing chess and buying clothes?

“I guess I do.”

She pushes herself off the counter. “Come on then. I’ll lead the way.”

I have a deja vu of her leading the tourists through the castle. I’ve not seen another human apart from the secretary in the building since. They must stick to blood bags or hunt elsewhere, just like Aro mentioned. It makes me realise that I’ll have to consider my diet as well.

I push the thought away for later as we walk down the corridors. It’s a hot day and the cold radiating off the thick stone walls feels nice on my skin. Spring is in full effect and a few weeks from now it will be summer. One I won’t get to experience human anymore.

I feel almost cold once we arrive at the guard’s room I saw in my first few days here. Again there is no one around, but I still cling to the bracelet wrapped around my arm. I wonder if the castle is this empty for my sake or if it is simply busy.

Heidi doesn’t talk, only gives me a quick nod and then leaves the room again. I search myself for nerves but can’t find any. I used to crave it. The confrontation. A resolution. To voice all that I’ve wanted to say for so long. But now I find that all I want is to be over, to be home again. To be with Leah.

I draw a long breath when he enters. He is escorted by two guard members in charcoal grey robes, who stay close but far enough to give an illusion of privacy. He’s still wearing the same clothes he wore when he got here, not a guest of the Volturi but something else. A prisoner, an outcast, a criminal.

“Edward,” I break the silence.

He turns his head to look at me, copper hair falling over his forehead. His gaze is as glum as I’m used to, only that now I’m missing the sympathy to go along with it.

“Bella,” he whispers. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“No?” I twist the chain on my wrist absentmindedly. “Neither did I, not really. Don’t you think it’s time for a goodbye though?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

I frown. “Do what?”

He gestures around the room vaguely. “If you want me to suffer, so be it. But don’t damn yourself.”

“Do you really think that badly of me?” I bite back. “This is not about you, if you can believe that. This is about Victoria and you breaking the law. About people dying and that having to stop.”

“Your ‘justice’ has been reached then,” he rolls his hands into fists at his sides, marble skin stretching until it is white. “You don’t have to turn to reach it.”

“I don’t want to die, Edward. You gave me no other choice.”

“You don’t have to be scared of death. You can still reevaluate.”

I cross my arms defensively. “I’m not scared, Edward. Are you ?” I press. “Were you scared? Scared I wouldn't love you anymore like this, as equals?”

“Bella, surely you can’t mean any of this,” his eyes wander around the room. “Please just stop. This is not like you.”

“But we were never really equals, were we? I’m better than you. And I can finally admit it to myself, ” I continue. “I always put you up on a pedestal. But you’re just a man. And not even a good one.”

“You love me,” he pleads. 

“I used to.” A weight drops from me as I finally say it out loud.

“What changed?”

Everything . But I realise maybe he will never really grasp it. That I could not love him. That I was not the same anymore. Fundamentally changed and probably forever would be. That he took a part of me that is still on the forest floor all the way back in Forks. Right where he left me.

“I did. You and I are not the same. It would have never worked out,” I shrug. “It's me and her. We’re from the same kind. You made sure of that.”

His gaze turns hysterical. So he knows.  “What does she have that I don’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe self-respect?” I manage a laugh. “I’m willing to admit I wasn’t always in the right. And when you left, it felt like something in me died. And maybe it is still in there, rotting. And maybe I’ll have to pry it out with a crowbar. But I’ll manage. I don’t know about you.”

I feel my legs shake, the burning rage starting to dissipate. I  just want it to be over. To be over with it all and be with Leah again.

“Don’t do this. You will not get what you want from this. You will be alone, wretched and without a soul.”

“Then let it be. If that’s what you believe, have it.”

“I will never be able to look at you again like this.”

“Good,” I raise my chin one last time, ready to leave the room with my head held high. “Truthfully, I’ll never see you again if I can help it.”

2nd April 

The next day I do a lot of lasts. I take my last human shower, have my last coffee and last dinner. They told me my turn was set for the next morning, like it was an appointment at the dentist. Maybe this is how it works for the Volturi. Aro will be the one to do it. I’m uncomfortable at the idea of him reading my thoughts again, but this is a reality I will have to grow accustomed to.

I read a couple pages of a book, but can’t stay focused on the text. I want to call Charlie one more time and tell him goodbye. Or just call to hear his voice as he picks up. But I know I can’t. I know he will be okay, at least after a while. There is no way around leaving him, but I make myself the promise that his memory will never leave me.

I write letters. One to Leah, that I will give the secretary later. One for Carlisle, that I’m not sure I will send yet. And a last one for myself, multiple pages packed tightly in a manila folder, held together by a short bit of string. To remember the important things, no matter what happens next.

On the evening of my last full day I call Leah. For a while we try to act like it is just a normal day. I tell her about the weather and the room I will be living in the next few months. She asks me about the guard and now that I know I will be spending hundreds of years with them I tell her. 

I tell her about Cassandra and her weird gift, about Jane and her pain, about Marcus and his sadness. I mention the blood banks, the art and charities the Volturi support, just to make her feel a little bit better. Maybe myself, too.

She informs me the pack will agree on a pact with me, but are too stubborn to call me yet. It came to heated discussions, but in the end her support and the absence of the Cullens and any other choice made Sam’s mind clear. There will be conditions and stipulations but in the end they will stand with me as I will stand with them.

“I love you,” I tell her. I hope it doesn’t sound like saying goodbye.

“I love you,” she says back.  “Just come home to me. I will wait for you. Forever.”

I don’t know if I will ever feel love without this - the bitter goodbye, the longing to be together again. Someway or another being torn apart over and over again. A blinding love with sharp burning edges. But if it’s her love I’ll gladly take it.

“I promise. I’ll return to you. Always.”

I hang up and lie down on the bed. It feels impossible to fall asleep, but I will myself to close my eyes. I want to dream one last time. Dream of her.

3rd April - 5th April

Eleazar Denali arrives the next day. He’s like the Cullens in many ways I expected, but then again quite different. He greets the Volturi like old friends and his demeanor is stark and animated. His eyes train around the room constantly, like he’s examining something I’m not seeing.

Out of all things he asks me to join him for tea. I haven’t managed to have anything at breakfast, so the hot peppermint brew settles heavy on my empty stomach. He’s not drinking anything, not that I would prefer it if he was.

It’s a beautiful room -  a small Italian lounge attached to a terrace overlooking another small fenced in garden. The furniture is old but cozy, the tea seemingly harvested from herbs growing only a few feet from us. Still it almost tastes like ash in my mouth.

“Why are we here?”

He folds his hands on the mosaic table. “Aro wanted a consultation. I offered to stay for a training period.”

“You did? With me?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “I recognized your potential when I first arrived. I trained a few of the gifted vampires who now make up the guard.”

“Cassandra?” I guess.

“Yes,” he says again. “Although she is older than me and her gift was already quite advanced. Others, too. Chelsea, Jane, Afton. There is always room to learn.”

“To learn what?” I stare into my half empty cup. “I don’t even know what my power is. I thought I did, but apparently that was wrong.”

“Nothing to beat yourself up over. Your gift presented in an interesting way. It’s quite peculiar - similar to the gift of the late Didyme.”

“Marcus told me that, but I don’t know what it means.”

He smiles. “It means peace, in a way.”

I frown and push my cup away. This conversation is not making any sense to me. What could I possibly be able to do that would be of much value to the Volturi? 

“You’re not a shield, Isabella. You’re a mirror.”

“Bella,” I interject out of habit. Am I still Bella Swan though? Barely still.

“Bella,” he echoes. “You reflect what someone wants most. Edward wanted a quiet mind, so that’s what he got. Alice wanted a best friend. All other gifts have worked normally on you, have they not? Only Edward’s not.”

“Yes,” I agree. “What does that mean though? A mirror? How is that useful?”

“I think Aro would argue that knowing what a person wants most and giving them the feeling of having it is one of the most valuable things in the world.”

I don’t answer. Partly this is what I expected. Ever since Aro’s hand touched mine I knew that I wasn’t a shield. But this power, the way he describes it, sounds manipulative and wrong.

“It’s a great gift,” he assures me. “You can do a lot of good with it. And you will.”

I look at his golden eyes and will myself to believe him.

***

The next room is not as airy and comfortable. It doesn’t have any windows and there is only one piece of furniture inside. The floor is cracked concrete and the walls are bare. It is the most basic room I’ve seen in the castle so far.

Cassandra mentions me to sit down on the loveseat standing against the far back side. It’s new from what I can tell, not that it will matter much. She unclasps the bracelet from my wrist, the first time since I got it. She assures me she will put it with my personal belongings, even though I won’t need it anymore. I won’t need to be protected after this.

Marcus enters the room shortly after. I didn’t expect him to come, not really. He presses a black velvet box into my hands before saying anything. His expression is as blank as usual, so I start opening it.  Inside lies another piece of jewelry, a heavy and intricate version of the Volturi crest, chained on a long gold necklace. I look up.

“Your outpost will stand under my jurisdiction and protection,” he says evenly like it doesn’t cost him a thing to do it. “My brothers will take others, but America will be mine.”

I swallow. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, Bella. Although, maybe in the future beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” he jokes. I laugh in surprise.

He nods one more time at me before leaving the room. Cassandra is still standing at my side, somehow a clipboard in hand now. She winks at me over the edge.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“It’s not me getting turned,” she folds a page over. “And we’ve done this dozens of times.”

“Reassuring,” I mutter.

A heavy silence falls on the room as we wait for Aro to make his entrance.

“I will be dead, won't I?” I ask even though it seems obvious. My thoughts don’t have a filter anymore.

“In a way, yes. But you will be so alive. You’ll have a future. Many possibilities and routes. You can trust me on that.”

In a way, I think I do now. Maybe it is too soon to trust a vampire again, but she has not lied to me a single time since I met her.

“It will hurt a lot, won’t it?”

“I fear so, yes. But isn’t it worth it?” she picks up my hand, small freckles dusting my wrist that I may never see again. “Pick a safe place to think of, that might help. Something good and pure to get you through.”

“Will I remember?”

“Not all of it. The one you love? You will not forget her.”

I imagine Leah’s face in my mind one more time. Soft brown eyes, tanned skin and a crooked smirk. A snarky comment and the feeling of her lips on mine. I lay back on the couch, just as I hear steps come down the corridor.

“It won't be beautiful or great or heroic. It will hurt like nothing has ever hurt you before. But you don’t need to be afraid; you’ll live through that too.”

“I’m not afraid anymore. This is what always was supposed to be.”

And I find it is the truth. This is what was meant to happen, what I’m meant to be. All the pain and sorrow brought me into this room, where the old will go and the new will begin. It may never be the way it was again, but it can be different  – it can be better.

Now Bella Swan finally dies.

Chapter Text

You left me

May 2006 

Adjusting to this new life is not as linear as I imagined it to be. It’s not as simple as suffering for three days, waking up and taking a flight back home. It’s not being able to go anywhere else but the castle, because I can’t make it one second near a human without wanting to drain them dry.

It’s feeling the ache of missing Leah, day and night, right next to the burning in my throat. It’s never being able to sleep again – to escape the negative feelings and rest for a while. Time is endless now, in the good and in the bad.

I call Leah almost right after I wake up. I drain a million blood bags, the liquid cold and stale in my mouth. I swallow it down regardless. I make Cassandra enter the number, too scared to smash the numbers or rip the phone in half.

It dials for a few seconds, enough for me to consider if she will recognize my voice. If she will recognize me. The line connects with a crack that sounds like thunder in my ears. 

“Leah,” I whisper.

“Bella? Oh god, are you okay?”

I laugh and even that sounds different. “Yes, I guess I am.”

She breathes out something almost like a sob. “I’m glad. God, I’m so glad it’s over.”

“Almost. I’ll have to go through training and be able to be around humans, then I can go home. If you want to leave in the meantime, I won’t hold it against you. Get away from all the supernatural for a while. ”

“Leave where, Bella?” she scoffs. “Someone has to keep the peace around here. And I’m not setting a foot anywhere without you.”

“I just thought if you’re uncomfortable there…”

“I won’t leave,” she interrupts. “And it’s not like I’m human either.”

There’s a bit of silence. I can hear her breathe on the other line and realise I’ve been holding my breath since I last spoke. The exhale doesn’t bring any comfort, just like closing my eyes does not.

“Where will we go, Leah? After all of this?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Anywhere, everywhere. Wherever the road will take us.”

It feels almost like a dream then, the closest I can get to sleep. Visions of endless asphalt and the smell of gasoline cloud my vision. The turning seasons and the steady hum of a radio in the background. Driving through state after state, stopping whenever we want to or not stopping at all. Endless freedom. 

“I just want us to be happy. There is nothing I want more.”

“And we will.”

We will. 

July 2006 

After about 3 months I get to go home. It takes a lot of screaming and arguing, but after lasting for a day in the plaza, sitting uncomfortably next to Jane in a restaurant, Aro allows me to fly to America on a private jet owned by the Volturi.

Eleazar will come back with me, having spent the last weeks and months by my side. It’s not like I’m in full control of my power by now. Even just controlling the thirst and new strength was hard enough as is. But with Eleazar’s help, I can now make out small little strings around everyone.

If I see it like this because of Marcus or independently, I’m not sure. It doesn’t make a difference in the end. When I concentrate enough, I can tug on the strings and get little glimpses. If I tug hard enough, I can mirror whatever it is they’re projecting. Their dreams, their wishes, their innermost cravings.

Few members of the guard volunteer for me to train on them, but the few that do become something almost like friends in the time I spend with them. It almost hurts to leave them behind. Only almost though, because I know what I’m leaving to go towards.

The plane is packed with a couple of suitcases and crates. There are the clothes Heidi got me, something fitting the statute of a Volturi member. A couple of books Marcus gave me, as well as my cloak and the few things I brought with me from Forks. The crates will be put into storage until I decide on a property to make the new outpost.

It is weird in a way to start this new life. A new name, an overflowing bank account and a list of tasks I did not have before. I’m not just Bella anymore. I’m Isabella Volturi now, responsible for keeping peace in the whole of North America.

The few hours over the Atlantic pass quickly with Eleazar. He and his family have agreed to join me for a while, to help out in the building stages and get to know each other. They plan to stay in Alaska for the foreseeable future and want to better their connections with the Volturi after the Cullen’s fallout with them.

I don’t go back to Forks. I can’t. We land on a small airport near the border of Canada, not too far from the Denali’s home. I sent Leah the coordinates a day ago, with the remark to not worry if she can’t make the journey. She’s there of course. I can tell even before the door of the small plane has opened.

I’m unsure of how she got on the runway, but it doesn’t matter. Not when after a second her arms are around me, drawing me in despite the new hardness of my skin. She burns around me, all amber and fire and home. I breathe out and relax for the first time in months.

She still smells just like I imagined, of forest and wisteria. Her heart beats evenly, the sound flowing right through my cold veins. Her hair graces my nose and I laugh.

It really is everything.

August 2006

After a while of living on the road, we do end up picking an estate to buy. Leah wants to object when she sees the price, but when I remind her vampires are paying, she doesn’t hesitate to get contractors for a new kitchen. That’s how there’s a pizza oven in the new American outpost of the Volturi.

The politics are mundane and boring for the most part. I meet with the pack halfway between our cities on neutral ground. The new deal is almost as easy as the old one - I won’t kill any humans and do my best to protect the rest of America, while they will be left alone to deal with their area. 

Jake looks almost happy to see me, were it not for the sour mood of Paul and a few of the others. I’ll give them a chance to come around when that time arrives, but for now I’m just glad their home, my home, stays protected and more fights are avoided.

A month into our operation the kings send an official request towards us. A request to take in new Volturi members into the American outpost. It’s a few of the stragglers from Victoria’s newborn army. I’m hesitant at first, but when Bree and two others arrive I’m glad to have agreed.

I see many parts of myself in her. The dark curly hair and lost red eyes are a reminder of what I could’ve become with one wrong direction. So I make an effort to help her adjust to the new life. To give her a new chance, just like I was given one.

The summer is full of diplomacy and renovations and paperwork. Leah helps me, but when all the vampire business becomes too much for her she takes time away to just run through the plains in her wolf form. Sometimes I join her, when it gets too much for me too. 

And it is happiness.

Chapter Text

You left me no, oh, you left me no

September 2006

The week of my birthday we’re on the road again. The house is coming along nicely, stocked with guest suites and offices and a small cabin on the edge of the property that Leah and I share. I take regular calls with Marcus, who I inform about our work and who never mentions what the Cullens are doing now, because he must know that I don’t want to know anymore.

We’ve taken to cataloging every vampire we come along, to get an overview over who’s travelling in the States. To some we offer to stay at the outpost, some we politely ask to leave. I haven’t had to do anything drastic yet, but that will no doubt happen in the future.

The pressure feels heavy, but living with the Volturi taught me what is necessary. I know I have Leah behind me to keep me in check and keep me company whenever it gets ugly. And after a while it’s not just Leah, but also Bree, Eleazar and all the others I work with. 

I give it everything I got. I put it all into my work, into my relationship with Leah and into becoming the best version of myself I can be. Because after all of this, I have to be. I owe it to Charlie, to Jacob, to Leah and to myself. I owe it to myself to finally be at peace with who I’ve become.

I begin to realise this as we drive back through Washington for the first time since I left it human. There’s a long road trip ahead of us, partly to scout out some states in the south and partly an excuse to spend some time travelling. I stare at Leah’s hand even as I’m driving, forever ingraining the small tattoo around her ring finger into my memory.

The day of my 19th birthday we make a stop at a coffee shop somewhere between Forks and Seattle.

She orders a macchiato and I a cream cheese bagel, that I slide over when no one is looking. A heavy rain shower has rendered the way to the diner muddy and the waitress in a bad mood from having to clean the floor later. I can hear her mumbling from the kitchen and I can hear the cook calling his daughter from the break room. The leather beneath me is freezing cold. So am I.

The newspaper between us is printed with the latest political musings, celebrity break-ups, weather forecasts. I absentmindedly count the threads of the paper. Leah’s flannel is hanging over the backseat of the chair. She cut her hair last week and it’s now barely grazing her shoulders again. It is still as soft as when I met her.

We’ve been driving through the country for days and nights on end. There are rumours of newborns again and we should be on our way soon. But we have all the time in the world to check it out. And I plan on taking it. 

I don’t recall him often anymore. There are those days when Leah is sleeping behind me in the backseat and the radio is down low. It seems to come back to me then. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if things had gone differently. If they still could. If I’m still the same Bella Swan from all those years ago. If my dad would recognize me if he saw me now.

During those times I try to count her breaths and the rain drops against the car. It still surprises me how many things at once I can concentrate on now. The memories are still there, but I don’t hold onto them anymore. They don’t hold onto me. And I let it be. I let there be uncertainty, confusion, mishaps. I allow myself to fail and to grow. I allow myself to forgive. The Cullens. Him . And after some time I even forgive myself.

I see Leah sticking her arm out of the window on a sunny day. I watch rain catch in her hair on a hunt. Days spent in small towns splattered across the maps like stars in the night sky. Never really lingering, but imagining what it would be like to do so. Grey hairs in her hair, borrowing flour from the neighbours, adopting a cat. In another lifetime maybe.

And maybe my hands are stained, but she takes them anyway. I love her. This is what finding peace looks like. It looks like a matching ring to her tattoo on my hand. It looks like visiting the pack and finding acceptance in their eyes, after realising they can truly trust me again. It sounds like Leah’s voice and it smells like the forest where it all started.

I love her. I’ll love her forever.

We drive out towards the sun again, and autumn turns to winter turns to spring. We do our jobs and we do nothing in between. Leah swims in the ocean and I read every book I want to. I cook her dinner and produce a reasonable result more than half the time. I’m not always happy. There are ups and downs, stressful nights, court sessions, anger and silly fights. But I am finally at peace.

And I’m thinking this is it. 

This is it.

Chapter Text

You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Forever

Time passes. I turned eighteen a few years ago. Blinks of an eye. But the weeks go by so slow. Then a year has passed. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since I was that girl. Somehow I feel like it was yesterday. Some days I feel like I’m still her, trapped down under the role of a Volturi guard and coven leader and wife.

I idly realise I don’t remember the dates anymore. The seasons and years blend together, held together only by meetings and reports and Leah. There are no gray hairs in her hair, not even now. There is a time when Seth will stop to turn, so Leah visits him in the in-betweens.

I go with her, sometimes, just along the edge of La Push. As far as I’m allowed, except for the rare times I’m invited to go further. I respect their boundaries, as they respect mine now. It’s no longer Sam at the head of the pack. It’s Jake now, after Sam stepped down for his children.

In a way it feels like I have my best friend back. Maybe not for forever, but at least for now. Sometimes I can even convince him to ride a motorcycle with me again, even though he complains about the Volturi the whole time. In the end it’s just Jake and Bella again. 

I visit my grave after a few years. Charlie has married Sue by now and they think Leah is just working jobs all across the country. She keeps an eye on him for me, even when I can’t manage to even watch him from a distance. It’s still too much.

My headstone is smooth and the casket beneath it is filled by a girl I never knew. There are flowers in front of it, colorful and alive. More alive than I am. I read the inscription and try to remember the life I used to have. The girl I used to be. The one I am now. How I will stay here forever in a way. Edward made sure of that.

But I clawed my way back from there, even if I’m not the same anymore. I still am . Now my life is strings of  ‘Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before’ and ‘I love you. I will love you forever’.

I know the end now. I always find my way back to her. I’ll always come home. I’ll stay there forever, too.

Long story short I survived.