you left for my benefit."
Alice scowled at the floor for a moment. "Well… I guess I acted impulsively today. I probably shouldn't
have intruded."
I could feel the blood draining from my face. My stomach dropped. "Don't go, Alice," I whispered. My
fingers locked around the collar of her white shirt and I began to hyperventilate. "Please don't leave me."
Her eyes opened wider. "All right," she said, enunciating each word with slow precision. "I'm not going
anywhere tonight. Take a deep breath."
I tried to obey, though I couldn't quite locate my lungs.
She watched my face while I concentrated on my breathing. She waited till I was calmer to comment.
"You look like hell, Bella."
"I drowned today," I reminded her.
"It goes deeper than that. You're a mess."
I flinched. "Look, I'm doing my best."
"What do you mean?"
"It hasn't been easy. I'm working on it."
She frowned. "I told him," she said to herself.
"Alice," I sighed. "What did you think you were going to find? I mean, besides me dead? Did you expect
to find me skipping around and whistling show tunes? You know me better than that."
"I do. But I hoped."
"Then I guess I don't have the corner on the idiocy market."
The phone rang.
"That has to be Charlie," I said, staggering to my feet. I grabbed Alice's stone hand and dragged her with
me to the kitchen. I wasn't about to let her out of my sight.
"Charlie?" I answered the phone.
"No, it's me," Jacob said.
"Jake!"
Alice scrutinized my expression.
"Just making sure you were still alive," Jacob said sourly.
"I'm fine. I told you that it wasn't—"
"Yeah. I got it. 'Bye."
Jacob hung up on me.
I sighed and let my head hang back, staring at the ceiling. "That's going to be a problem."
Alice squeezed my hand. "They aren't excited I'm here."
"Not especially. But it's none of their business anyway."
Alice put her arm around me. "So what do we do now?" she mused. She seemed to talk to herself for a
moment. "Things to do. Loose ends to tie."
"What things to do?"
Her face was suddenly careful. "I don't know for sure… I need to see Carlisle."
Would she leave so soon? My stomach dropped.
"Could you stay?" I begged. "Please? For just a little while. I've missed you so much." My voice broke.
"If you think that's a good idea." Her eyes were unhappy.
"I do. You can stay here—Charlie would love that."
"I have a house, Bella."
I nodded, disappointed but resigned. She hesitated, studying me.
"Well, I need to go get a suitcase of clothes, at the very least."
I threw my arms around her. "Alice, you're the best!"
"And I think I'll need to hunt. Immediately," she added in a strained voice.
"Oops." I took a step back.
"Can you stay out of trouble for one hour?" she asked skeptically. Then, before I could answer, she held
up one finger and closed her eyes. Her face went smooth and blank for a few seconds.
And then her eyes opened and she answered her own question. "Yes, you'll be fine. For tonight,
anyway." She grimaced. Even making faces, she looked like an angel.
"You'll come back?" I asked in a small voice.
"I promise—one hour."
I glanced at the clock over the kitchen table. She laughed and leaned in quickly to kiss me on the cheek.
Then she was gone.
I took a deep breath. Alice would be back. I suddenly felt so much better.
I had plenty to do to keep myself busy while I waited. A shower was definitely first on the agenda. I
sniffed my shoulders as I undressed, but I couldn't smell anything but the brine and seaweed scent of the
ocean. I wondered what Alice had meant about me smelling bad.
When I was cleaned up, I went back to the kitchen. I couldn't see any signs that Charlie 'lad eaten
recently, and he would probably be hungry when he got back. I hummed tunelessly to myself as I moved
around the kitchen.
While Thursday's casserole rotated in the microwave, I made up the couch with sheets and an old pillow.
Alice wouldn't need it, but Charlie would need to see it. I was careful not to watch the clock. There was
no reason to start myself panicking; Alice had promised.
I hurried through my dinner, not tasting it—just feeling the ache as it slid down my raw throat. Mostly I
was thirsty; I must have drunk a half gallon of water by the time I was finished. All the salt in my system
had dehydrated me.
I went to go try to watch TV while I waited.
Alice was already there, sitting on her improvised bed. Her eyes were a liquid butterscotch. She smiled
and patted the pillow. "Thanks."
"You're early," I said, elated.
I sat down next to her and leaned my head on her shoulder. She put her cold arms around me and
sighed.
"Bella. What are we going to do with you?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I really have been trying my hardest."
"I believe you."
It was silent.
"Does—does he…" I took a deep breath. It was harder to say his name out loud, even though I was
able to think it now. "Does Edward know you're here?" I couldn't help asking. It was my pain, after all.
I'd deal with it when she was gone, I promised myself, and felt sick at the thought.
"No."
There was only one way that could be true. "He's not with Carlisle and Esme?"
"He checks in every few months."
"Oh." He must still be out enjoying his distractions. I focused my curiosity on a safer topic. "You said you
flew here… Where did you come from?"
"I was in Denali. Visiting Tanya's family."
"Is Jasper here? Did he come with your'"
She shook her head. "He didn't approve of my interfering. We promised…" she trailed off, and then her
tone changed. "And you think Charlie won't mind my being here?" she asked, sounding worried.
"Charlie thinks you're wonderful, Alice."
"Well, we're about to find out."
Sure enough, a few seconds later I heard the cruiser pull into the driveway. I jumped up and hurried to
open the door.
Charlie trudged slowly up the walk, his eyes on the ground and his shoulders slumped. I walked forward
to meet him; he didn't even see me until I hugged him around the waist. He embraced me back fiercely.
"I'm so sorry about Harry, Dad."
"I'm really going to miss him," Charlie mumbled.
"How's Sue doing?"
"She seems dazed, like she hasn't grasped it yet. Sam's staying with her…" The volume of his voice faded
in and out. "Those poor kids. Leah's just a year older than you, and Seth is only fourteen…" He shook
his head.
He kept his arms tight around me as he started toward the door again.
"Um, Dad?" I figured I'd better warn him. "You'll never guess who's here."
He looked at me blankly. His head swiveled around, and he spied the Mercedes across the street, the
porch light reflecting off the glossy black paint. Before he could react, Alice was in the doorway.
"Hi, Charlie," she said in a subdued voice. "I'm sorry I came at such a bad time."
"Alice Cullen?" he peered at the slight figure in front of him as if he doubted what his eyes were telling
him. "Alice, is that you?"
"It's me," she confirmed. "I was in the neighborhood."
"Is Carlisle…？"
"No, I'm alone."
Both Alice and I knew he wasn't really asking about Carlisle. His arm tightened over my shoulder.
"She can stay here, can't she?" I pleaded. "I already asked her."
"Of course," Charlie said mechanically. "We'd love to have you, Alice."
"Thank you, Charlie. I know it's horrid timing."
"No, it's fine, really. I'm going to be really busy doing what I can for Harry's family; it will be nice for
Bella to have some company."
"There's dinner for you on the table, Dad," I told him.
"Thanks, Bell." He gave me one more squeeze before he shuffled toward the kitchen.
Alice went back to the couch, and I followed her. This time, she was the one to pull me against her
shoulder.
"You look tired."
"Yeah," I agreed, and shrugged. "Near-death experiences do that to me… So, what does Carlisle think
of you being here?"
"He doesn't know. He and Esme were on a hunting trip. I'll hear from him in a few days, when he gets
back."
"You won't tell him, though… when he checks in again?" I asked. She knew I didn't mean Carlisle now.
"No. He'd bite my head off," Alice said grimly.
I laughed once, and then sighed.
I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to stay up all night talking to Alice. And it didn't make sense for me to be
tired, what with crashing on Jacob's couch all day. But drowning really had taken a lot out of me, and my
eyes wouldn't stay open. I rested my head on her stone shoulder, and drifted into a more peaceful
oblivion than I had any hope of.
I woke early, from a deep and dreamless sleep, feeling well-rested, but stiff. I was on the couch tucked
under the blankets I'd laid out for Alice, and I could hear her and Charlie talking in the kitchen. It
sounded like Charlie was fixing her breakfast.
"How bad was it, Charlie?" Alice asked softly, and at first I thought they were talking about the
Clearwaters.
Charlie sighed. "Real bad."
"Tell me about it. I want to know exactly what happened when we left."
There was a pause while a cupboard door was closed and a dial on the stove was clicked off. I waited,
cringing.
"I've never felt so helpless," Charlie began slowly. "I didn't know what to do. That first week—I thought I
was going to have to hospitalize her. She wouldn't eat or drink, she wouldn't move. Dr. Gerandy was
throwing around words like 'catatonic,' but I didn't let him up to see her. I was afraid it would scare her."
"She snapped out of it though?"
"I had Renee come to take her to Florida. I just didn't want to be the one… if she had to go to a hospital
or something. I hoped being with her mother would help. But when we started packing her clothes, she
woke up with a vengeance. I've never seen Bella throw a fit like that. She was never one for the
tantrums, but, boy, did she fly into a fury. She threw her clothes everywhere and screamed that we
couldn't make her leave—and then she finally started crying. I thought that would be the turning point. I
didn't argue when she insisted on staying here… and she did seem to get better at first…"
Charlie trailed off. It was hard listening to this, knowing how much pain I'd caused him.
"But?" Alice prompted.
"She went back to school and work, she ate and slept and did her homework. She answered when
someone asked her a direct question. But she was… empty. Her eyes were blank. There were lots of
little things—she wouldn't listen to music anymore; I found a bunch of CDs broken in the trash. She didn't
read; she wouldn't be in the same room when the TV was on, not that she watched it so much before. I
finally figured it out—she was avoiding everything that might remind her of… him.
"We could hardly talk; I was so worried about saying something that would upset her—the littlest things
would make her flinch—and she never volunteered anything. She would just answer if I asked her
something.
"She was alone all the time. She didn't call her friends back, and after a while, they stopped calling.
"It was night of the living dead around here. I still hear her screaming in her sleep…"
I could almost see him shuddering. I shuddered, too, remembering. And then I sighed. I hadn't fooled him
at all, not for one second.
"I'm so sorry, Charlie," Alice said, voice glum.
"It's not your fault." The way he said it made it perfectly clear that he was holding someone responsible.
"You were always a good friend to her."
"She seems better now, though."
"Yeah. Ever since she started hanging out with Jacob Black, I've noticed a real improvement. She has
some color in her cheeks when she comes home, some light in her eyes. She's happier." He paused, and
his voice was different when he spoke again. "He's a year or so younger than her, and I know she used
to think of him as a friend, but I think maybe it's something more now, or headed that direction, anyway."
Charlie said this in a tone that was almost belligerent. It was a warning, not for Alice, but for her to pass
along. "Jake's old for his years," he continued, still sounding defensive. "He's taken care of his father
physically the way Bella took care of her mother emotionally. It matured him. He's a good-looking kid,
too—takes after his mom's side. He's good for Bella, you know," Charlie insisted.
"Then it's good she has him," Alice agreed.
Charlie sighed out a big gust of air, folding quickly to the lack of opposition. "Okay, so I guess that's
overstating things. I don't know… even with Jacob, now and then I see something in her eyes, and I
wonder if I've ever grasped how much pain she's really in It's not normal, Alice, and it… it frightens me.
Not normal at all. Not like someone… left her, but like someone died." His voice cracked.
It was like someone had died—like I had died. Because it had been more than just losing the truest of
true loves, as if that were not enough to kill anyone. It was also losing a whole future, a whole
family—the whole life that I'd chosen…
Charlie went on in a hopeless tone. "I don't know if she's going to get over it—I'm not sure if it's in her
nature to heal from something like this. She's always been such a constant little thing. She doesn't get past
things, change her mind."
"She's one of a kind," Alice agreed in a dry voice.
"And Alice…" Charlie hesitated. "Now, you know how fond I am of you, and I can tell that she's happy
to see you, but… I'm a little worried about what your visit will do to her."
"So am I, Charlie, so am I. I wouldn't have come if I'd had any idea. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, honey. Who knows? Maybe it will be good for her."
"I hope you're right."
There was a long break while forks scraped plates and Charlie chewed. I wondered where Alice was
hiding the food.
"Alice, I have to ask you something," Charlie said awkwardly.
Alice was calm. "Go ahead."
"He's not coming back to visit, too, is he?" I could hear the suppressed anger in Charlie's voice.
Alice answered in a soft, reassuring tone. "He doesn't even know I'm here. The last time I spoke with
him, he was in South America."
I stiffened as I heard this new information, and listened harder.
"That's something, at least." Charlie snorted. "Well, I hope he's enjoying himself."
For the first time, Alice's voice had a bit of steel in it. "I wouldn't make assumptions, Charlie." I knew
how her eyes would flash when she used that tone.
A chair scooted from the table, scraping loudly across the floor. I pictured Charlie getting up; there was
no way Alice would make that kind of noise. The faucet ran, splashing against a dish.
It didn't sound like they were going to say anything more about Edward, so I decided it was time to
wake up.
I turned over, bouncing against the springs to make them squeak. Then I yawned loudly.
All was quiet in the kitchen.
I stretched and groaned.
"Alice?" I asked innocently; the soreness rasping in my throat added nicely to the charade.
"I'm in the kitchen, Bella," Alice called, no hint in her voice that she suspected my eavesdropping. But she
was good at hiding things like that.
Charlie had to leave then—he was helping Sue Clearwater with the funeral arrangements. It would have
been a very long day without Alice. She never spoke about leaving, and I didn't ask her. I knew it was
inevitable, but I put it out of my mind.
Instead, we talked about her family—all but one.
Carlisle was working nights in Ithaca and teaching part time at Cornell. Esme was restoring a seventeenth
century house, a historical monument, in the forest north of the city. Emmett and Rosalie had gone to
Europe for a few months on another honeymoon, but they were back now. Jasper was at Cornell, too,
studying philosophy this time. And Alice had been doing some personal research, concerning the
information I'd accidentally uncovered for her last spring. She'd successfully tracked down the asylum
where she'd spent the last years of her human life. The life she had no memory of.
"My name was Mary Alice Brandon," she told me quietly. "I had a little sister named Cynthia. Her
daughter—my niece—is still alive in Biloxi."
"Did you find out why they put you in… that place?" What would drive parents to that extreme? Even if
their daughter saw visions of the future…
She just shook her head, her topaz eyes thoughtful. "I couldn't find much about them. I went through all
the old newspapers on microfiche. My family wasn't mentioned often; they weren't part of the social
circle that made the papers. My parents' engagement was there, and Cynthia's." The name fell uncertainly
from her tongue. "My birth was announced… and my death. I found my grave. I also filched my
admissions sheet from the old asylum archives. The date on the admission and the date on my tombstone
are the same."
I didn't know what to say, and, after a short pause, Alice moved on to lighter topics.
The Cullens were reassembled now, with the one exception, spending Cornell's spring break in Denali
with Tanya and her family. I listened too eagerly to even the most trivial news. She never mentioned the
one I was most interested in, and for that I was grateful. It was enough to listen to the stories of the family
I'd once dreamed of belonging to.
Charlie didn't get back until after dark, and he looked more worn than he had the night before. He would
be headed back to the reservation first thing in the morning for Harry's funeral, so he turned in early. I
stayed on the couch with Alice again.
Charlie was almost a stranger when he came down the stairs before the sun was up, wearing an old suit
I'd never seen him in before. The jacket hung open; I guessed it was too tight to fasten the buttons. His
tie was a bit wide for the current style. He tiptoed to the door, trying not to wake us up. I let him go,
pretending to sleep, as Alice did on the recliner.
As soon as he was out the door, Alice sat up. Under the quilt, she was fully dressed.
"So, what are we doing today?" she asked.
"I don't know—do you see anything interesting happening?"
She smiled and shook her head. "But it's still early."
All the time I'd been spending in La Push meant a pile of things I'd been neglecting at home, and I
decided to catch up on my chores. I wanted to do something, anything that might make life easier for
Charlie—maybe it would make him feel just a little better to come home to a clean, organized house. I
started with the bathroom—it showed the most signs of neglect.
While I worked, Alice leaned against the doorjamb and asked nonchalant questions about my, well, our
high school friends and what they been up to since she'd left. Her face stayed casual and emotionless, but
I sensed her disapproval when she realized how little I could tell her. Or maybe I just had a guilty
conscience after eavesdropping on her conversation with Charlie yesterday morning.
I was literally up to my elbows in Comet, scrubbing the floor of the bathtub, when the doorbell rang.
I looked to Alice at once, and her expression was perplexed, almost worried, which was strange; Alice
was never taken by surprise.
"Hold on!" I shouted in the general direction of the front door, getting up and hurrying to the sink to rinse
my arms off.
"Bella," Alice said with a trace of frustration in her voice, "I have a fairly good guess who that might be,
and I think I'd better step out."
"Guess?" I echoed. Since when did Alice have to guess anything?
"If this is a repeat of my egregious lapse in foresight yesterday, then it's most likely Jacob Black or one of
his… friends."
I stared at her, putting it together. "You can't see werewolves?"
She grimaced. "So it would seem." She was obviously annoyed by this fact—very annoyed.
The doorbell rang again—buzzing twice quickly and impatiently.
"You don't have go anywhere, Alice. You were here first."
She laughed her silvery little laugh—it had a dark edge. "Trust me—it wouldn't be a good idea to have
me and Jacob Black in a room together."
She kissed my cheek swiftly before she vanished through Charlie's door—and out his back window, no
doubt.
The doorbell rang again.
18. THE FUNERAL
I SPRINTED DOWN THE STAIRS AND THREW THE DOOR open.
It was Jacob, of course. Even blind, Alice wasn't slow.
He was standing about six feet back from the door, his nose wrinkled in distaste, but his face otherwise
smooth—masklike. He didn't fool me; I could see the faint trembling of his hands.
Hostility rolled off of him in waves. It brought back that awful afternoon when he'd chosen Sam over me,
and I felt my chin jerk up defensively in response.
Jacob's Rabbit idled by the curb with Jared behind the wheel and Embry in the passenger seat. I
understood what this meant: they were afraid to let him come here alone. It made me sad, and a little
annoyed. The Cullens weren't like that.
"Hey," I finally said when he didn't speak.
Jake pursed his lips, still hanging back from the door. His eyes flickered across the front of the house.
I ground my teeth. "She's not here. Do you need something?"
He hesitated. "You're alone?"
"Yes." I sighed.
"Can I talk to you a minute?"
"Of course you can, Jacob. Come on in."
Jacob glanced over his shoulder at his friends in the car. I saw Embry shake his head just a tiny bit. For
some reason, this bugged me to no end.
My teeth clenched together again. "Chicken" I mumbled under my breath.
Jake's eyes flashed back to me, his thick, black brows pushing into a furious angle over his deep-set
eyes. His jaw set, and he marched—there was no other way to describe the way he moved—up the
sidewalk and shrugged past me into the house.
I locked gazes with first Jared and then Embry—I didn't like the hard way they eyed me; did they really
think I would let anything hurt Jacob?—before I shut the door on them.
Jacob was in the hall behind me, staring at the mess of blankets in the living room.
"Slumber party?" he asked, his tone sarcastic.
"Yeah," I answered with the same level of acid. I didn't like Jacob when he acted this way. "What's it to
you?"
He wrinkled his nose again like he smelled something unpleasant. "Where's your 'friend'?" I could hear
the quotation marks in his tone.
"She had some errands to run. Look, Jacob, what do you want?"
Something about the room seemed to make him edgier—his long arms were quivering. He didn't answer
my question. Instead he moved on to the kitchen, his restless eyes darting everywhere.
I followed him. He paced back and forth along the short counter.
"Hey," I said, putting myself in his way. He stopped pacing and stared down at me. "What's your
problem?"
"I don't like having to be here."
That stung. I winced, and his eyes tightened.
"Then I'm sorry you had to come," I muttered. "Why don't you tell me what you need so you can leave?"
"I just have to ask you a couple of questions. It shouldn't take long. We have to get back for the funeral."
"Okay. Get it over with then." I was probably overdoing it with the antagonism, but I didn't want him to
see how much this hurt. I knew I wasn't being fair. After all, I'd picked the bloodsucker over him last
night. I'd hurt him first.
He took a deep breath, and his trembling fingers were suddenly still. His face smoothed into a serene
mask.
"One of the Cullens is staying here with you," he stated.
"Yes. Alice Cullen."
He nodded thoughtfully. "How long is she here for?"
"As long as she wants to be." The belligerence was still there in my tone. "It's an open invitation."
"Do you think you could… please… explain to her about the other one—Victoria?"
I paled. "I told her about that."
He nodded. "You should know that we can only watch our own lands with a Cullen here. You'll only be
safe in La Push. I can't protect you here anymore."
"Okay," I said in a small voice.
He looked away then, out the back windows. He didn't continue.
"Is that all?"
He kept his eyes on the glass as he answered. "Just one more thing."
I waited, but he didn't continue. "Yes?" I finally prompted.
"Are the rest of them coming back now?" he asked in a cool, quiet voice. It reminded me of Sam's
always calm manner. Jacob was becoming more like Sam… I wondered why that bothered me so much.
Now I didn't speak. He looked back at my face with probing eyes.
"Well?" he asked. He struggled to conceal the tension behind his serene expression.
"No." I said finally. Grudgingly. "They aren't coming back."
His expression didn't change. "Okay. That's all."
I glared at him, annoyance rekindled. "Well, run along now. Go tell Sam that the scary monsters aren't
coming to get you."
"Okay," he repeated, still calm.
That seemed to be it. Jacob walked swiftly from the kitchen. I waited to hear the front door open, but I
heard nothing. I could hear the clock over the stove ticking, and I marveled again at how quiet he'd
become.
What a disaster. How could I have alienated him so completely in such a short amount of time?
Would he forgive me when Alice was gone? What if he didn't?
I slumped against the counter and buried my face in my hands. How had I made such a mess of
everything? But what could I have done differently? Even in hindsight, I couldn't think of any better way,
any perfect course of action.
"Bella… ?" Jacob asked in a troubled voice.
I pulled my face out of my hands to see Jacob hesitating in the kitchen doorway; he hadn't left when I'd
thought. It was only when I saw the clear drops sparkling in my hands that I realized I was crying.
Jacob's calm expression was gone; his face was anxious and unsure. He walked quickly back to stand in
front of me, ducking his head so that his eyes were closer to being on the same level with mine.
"Did it again, didn't I?"
"Did what?" I asked, my voice cracking.
"Broke my promise. Sorry."
"'S'okay," I mumbled. "I started it this time."
His face twisted. "I knew how you felt about them. It shouldn't have taken me by surprise like that."
I could see the revulsion in his eyes. I wanted to explain to him what Alice was really like, to defend her
against the judgments he'd made, but something warned me that now was not the time.
So I just said, "Sorry," again.
"Let's not worry about it, okay? She's just visiting, right? She'll leave, and things will go back to normal."
"Can't I be friends with you both at the same time?" I asked, my voice not hiding an ounce of the hurt I
felt.
He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think you can."
I sniffed and stared at his big feet. "But you'll wait, right? You'll still be my friend, even though I love
Alice, too?"
I didn't look up, afraid to see what he'd think of that last part. It took him a minute to answer, so I was
probably right not to look.
"Yeah, I'll always be your friend," he said gruffly. "No matter what you love."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I felt his arms wind around me, and I leaned against his chest, still sniffling. "This sucks."
"Yeah." Then he sniffed my hair and said, "Ew."
"What?" I demanded. I looked up to see that his nose was wrinkled again. "Why does everyone keep
doing that to me? I don't smell!"
He smiled a little. "Yes, you do—you smell like them. Blech. Too sweet—sickly sweet. And… icy. It
burns my nose."
"Really?" That was strange. Alice smelled unbelievably wonderful. To a human, anyway. "But why would
Alice think I smelled, too, then?"
That wiped his smile away. "Huh. Maybe I don't smell so good to her, either. Huh."
"Well, you both smell fine to me." I rested my head against him again. I was going to miss him terribly
when he walked out my door. It was a nasty catch-22—on the one hand, I wanted Alice to stay forever.
I was going to die—metaphorically—when she left me. But how was I supposed to go without seeing
Jake for any length of time? What a mess, I thought again.
"I'll miss you," Jacob whispered, echoing my thoughts. "Every minute. I hope she leaves soon."
"It really doesn't have to be that way, Jake."
He sighed. "Yes, it really does. Bella. You… love her. So I'd better not get anywhere near her. I'm not
sure that I'm even-tempered enough to handle that. Sam would be mad if I broke the treaty, and"—his
voice turned sarcastic—"you probably wouldn't like it too much if I killed your friend."
I recoiled from him when he said that, but he only tightened his arms, refusing to let me escape. "There's
