-Edward-
Bella’s screams tore through me, unraveling everything I was. The vision—no, the experience—was unlike anything I’d ever known. We were in the meadow, but that was the only familiar thing. She stood before me, her hand trembling over a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been. Blood soaked the grass. Soaked me.
I extended my hands from behind my back.
“This is yours, I think.”
The screams began—raw, anguished, unrelenting.
They were hers, but they echoed inside me.
And then it was gone.
Reality snapped back into focus. I was curled up in the corner of an attic somewhere. The grain of the wooden beams came into view as my eyes refocused, but I couldn’t shake the sound—her screams still rang in my ears, sharp and haunting.
What had that been?
A dream? A hallucination?
My phone buzzed. I ignored it.
I didn’t want anything to intrude—didn’t want the real world until I could make sense of what I’d just seen. But curiosity and dread forced my hand. I flipped open the phone and checked the voicemail.
Alice. Again.
Her voice trembled through the message:
“Edward, you need to come home now. It’s an emergency. It’s about Bella. I know you told me not to look into her future—but this just hit me. Please call me. We’ll figure out how to get you home.”
I didn’t hesitate.
She picked up on the second ring. “Please don’t hang up.”
I didn’t speak.
“I’ll explain everything once you’re home—just come back.”
My voice was tight with panic. “Alice. What’s happening?”
“The meadow,” she whispered.
The vision slammed into me again. Bella. Blood. The broken heart. Her screams.
“Tell me what you saw,” I demanded. “Now.”
“I can’t see her clearly, Edward. Just fragments. But she’ll be in the meadow… when they find her.”
They?
My stomach sank.
“Alice. Who finds her?”
There was a pause. Then:
“The Volturi.”
I dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor. I stared at it, stunned.
They were coming.
For Bella.
And it was my fault.
I was on my feet before I even realized I’d moved, crawling out of the attic like I was pulling myself from a grave. I collapsed outside, the full weight of it crashing down.
The Volturi knew. They knew Bella had seen too much.
She would be given two choices: death… or eternal damnation.
I had sworn to protect her from both.
Pain exploded inside me—pure and volcanic. I’d left her to protect her. And now the very people I feared most were coming for her, and I wasn’t there.
I pushed to my feet.
There was no question anymore. I had to get to her.
She will not die for knowing me.
I didn’t remember the run—only that I moved. Fast. Aimless. Desperate. My thoughts spun: if the Volturi reached her before I did, they’d destroy her. And if I got there too late… Carlisle would have to turn her. It was the only way to survive. But it was the future she deserved least.
I had sworn to keep her human. I had sworn to stay away so she could live.
Now she was trapped in a future I’d condemned her to.
I kept running.
At some point, I noticed the town. Crowded but not overwhelming. Spanish signage. I slowed.
Where the hell am I?
A store clerk laughed when I asked.
“Valcheta,” he said. “Argentina.”
Argentina.
I had crossed a continent.
On foot.
I didn’t waste time questioning it. The body could do anything when the soul was burning.
I asked about the nearest airport. Puerto Madryn—152 miles south.
I ran.
Fast.
I didn’t pace myself. I didn’t calculate the strain on my body. I couldn’t. The image of Bella—bloody and broken in the meadow—flashed in my mind with every stride. Her scream echoed through my skull like a curse.
Every second mattered now.
What if I don’t make it? What if they reach her first?
The idea tore at me more viciously than any Volturi punishment ever could.
My legs moved on instinct. My lungs didn’t burn, but my chest did—deep and internal, right where the ache had settled since the day I left her. If I had made even one different choice—if I’d stayed in Forks, if I hadn’t walked away, if I had turned her myself—none of this would be happening.
She was in danger because of me.
And now she was going to suffer the price of my righteousness.
How many times had I told myself that I was doing what was best for her? That letting her go was an act of love? That leaving her behind would give her the life she deserved?
Lies.
All of it.
Because despite every oath I made to protect her, I’d left her exposed. Alone. Vulnerable.
I pushed harder.
I didn’t remember the last time I fed. My limbs were weaker than they should’ve been, my movements erratic. I tripped once—stumbled, caught myself, kept running. The terrain blurred by, but not fast enough.
Thoughts kept clawing at me, sharper than thorns:
What if she hates you?
What if she’s already gone?
What if the Volturi don’t kill her… and she lives forever resenting you?
I couldn’t breathe—not because I was winded, but because the fear wrapped itself around my throat like a noose. She deserved peace, not panic. Love, not torment. And now the only way to save her would be to turn her into what I am—a monster. That was the future I’d tried to save her from. And I was about to make it her only option.
I had never hated myself more than I did in that moment.
It wasn’t just that I’d left her.
It was that I had failed her, entirely.
Every promise, broken.
I ran until the taste of venom filled my mouth—dry, bitter. My body screamed for blood, but I didn’t care. Not yet. There was no time. Just distance.
If she died… or worse, if she thought I didn’t care… I wouldn’t go to Volterra to beg for death.
I would go to confess.
By nightfall, I reached Puerto Madryn.
The small airport was quiet—too quiet. Time moved differently here, dragging its feet while my mind spun faster and faster. I moved through security with practiced ease, hands trembling only slightly as I handed over forged documents and credit cards. They didn’t notice. Humans rarely looked long enough to see the cracks.
The earliest flight north wasn’t leaving for another four hours. I gritted my teeth and booked it anyway. There were no other options.
I sank into one of the hard terminal seats, fists clenched against my knees.
Four hours.
It might as well have been four lifetimes.
Bella’s image—the gaping wound in her chest, her blood soaking the meadow—wouldn’t leave me. Her voice, screaming. My hands, holding her crushed heart. Whether that vision had been mine or Alice’s, dream or omen, it didn’t matter. It was etched into me now.
I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly.
If she died… if she was turned…
Would she forgive me?
Would she want to?
The overhead announcement for pre-boarding jarred me. I stood up and walked to the gate, hands in my coat pockets, trying to appear calm. Humans noticed frantic energy. I couldn’t afford attention.
That’s when the phone vibrated.
Alice.
My hand shook slightly as I answered. “Alice?”
“You’re at the airport?”
“Yes. Boarding starts in twenty minutes.”
“You need to listen,” she said. Her voice was tight—brimming with tension she wasn’t bothering to mask.
My chest seized. “What’s happened?”
“She’s not in Forks,” she said, her voice trembling now. “Charlie sent her to Phoenix.”
I froze. “Why didn’t you see that?”
“Because you told me not to look into her future, Edward! This whole time, I’ve been blind.”
I shut my eyes, cursing myself.
“She’s not in Forks. But the vision hasn’t changed—the meadow, the blood, her scream. She’s still coming back.”
“How? When? Alice, I—”
“Her future cuts in and out. I can’t follow it for long. It’s like watching her through a cracked window. One moment, she’s there, and the next… gone.”
“And Charlie?”
She hesitated. “He was angry. He asked if the rest of us were with me. He told me you’re not welcome—none of us are.”
I didn’t blame him. Not after what I’d done.
“And Bella?”
“She’s…” Alice trailed off. “She’s not well, Edward. Not even close. He didn’t say it out loud, but I saw it in his mind. The way she screams in her sleep. The things she says.”
I clenched the phone harder.
“I need to see her, Alice. I have to—”
“I know.” Her voice softened. “I know. But Edward, I have to be honest… when you get to her, I don’t know what she’ll do. I don’t know if she’ll take you back.”
Her words hit harder than I expected, harder than I was ready for.
“If she doesn’t,” I whispered, “then I’ll let her go.”
“But?” she asked, gently.
“But I have to see her one more time. I have to know she’s okay. I need to hear it from her mouth.”
Another pause.
“You’ll make it on time,” she said. “Just—hurry.”
“I’m on my way.” I hung up.
The boarding call echoed through the gate speakers. I walked toward the jet bridge, each step feeling both impossibly heavy and not fast enough.
The crowd around me moved in slow motion—dragging bags, talking on phones, checking tickets. Every wasted second made me want to scream.
Move. MOVE.
I could be running. If I had wings, I’d use them. If I had to tear open the sky with my hands to get to her, I would.
But I had to wait.
Metal detectors. Security lines. Passenger manifests.
This world had rules. And right now, I was trapped inside them.
But not for long.
Soon, I’d be in the air.
And then—her.
Bella.
If she lived, I would give her the truth. No more lies. No more distance. And if she didn’t—
If she didn’t—
I stepped onto the plane, the weight of that thought pressing down on me like gravity at twice its strength.
I buckled in, staring out the window, jaw locked tight.
Just hold on, Bella. Please.
“I’m coming,” I whispered.
1.7562 Billion Miles 