I sat in the car, staring up at the sky.
Renee had decided—after the hospital incident—that it was time for me to go back to Forks. She’d called Charlie and told him it was too much for her to handle. I didn’t remember what had happened at first, so she had to explain it to me.
“Everything seemed fine at first,” she said. “You stared at the flame like she told you to, and when Dr. Rayburn asked questions, you said you were in a meadow. You mentioned that Edward was there with you. You lit up—I thought we were finally breaking through.
“But then… your face changed. You looked terrified. You started babbling nonsense. And then you screamed. Bella, I’ve never heard screams like that. It went on for days. Not nonstop—you’d sleep, then wake up screaming. Sometimes you sobbed in your sleep. It was like watching someone come unhinged.”
By the fourth day, Dr. Rayburn had convinced her that sedation was the only humane option.
“When you finally came around, you were… back to what you were before. Numb. Blank. Rayburn suggested I have you committed, Bella. But I couldn’t. I love you too much for that. I told her no—and that you’d be leaving Phoenix.”
“You told Charlie about all this?” I remembered how angry I’d felt when she admitted it.
“I had to, baby. I can’t do this. I tried, but I’m not strong enough to watch you disappear. Charlie said he’d do what he could.”
So now here we were. Renee hadn’t said a word during the entire drive. She’d already packed my things. She insisted on driving instead of putting me on a plane. It was clear she didn’t trust me to be alone.
The numbness hadn’t returned, but I still planned to go back to the meadow. If there was even a chance I could hear his voice again—real or imagined—I needed to try.
The drive dragged, but eventually, we pulled up in front of Charlie’s. He stood on the porch with his arms crossed. Renee parked at the curb and got out. Together, they carried my bags to my room. A few minutes later, Renee came back to help me out of the car. The cast on my leg was heavy and clumsy. I hoped I’d find a way to make it to the meadow despite it.
Inside, Renee kissed my cheek, thanked Charlie, and left.
“Welcome home, Bells,” was all Charlie said before heading to the kitchen. I followed him and sat at the table.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Don’t apologize. I should’ve known your mom would go off the deep end. I suppose I should be the one apologizing.”
“You did what you thought was best.”
“Hmph.” He cleared his throat. “I invited the Blacks over tonight. They’re staying for dinner and the game. You don’t have to join us, but you’re welcome to.”
It might have annoyed me before, but I saw an opportunity. Maybe Jacob could help me reach the meadow.
“Sure, Dad. I’ll join you.”
A few minutes later, Jacob wheeled Billy into the living room. Then he came into the kitchen and gave me a double-take.
“Wow, Bella. You look awful. What happened to your leg?”
I let out a weak laugh. “Skydiving incident.”
He blinked. “Seriously? That’s… kind of awesome.”
He pulled out a chair beside me as Charlie began plating dinner.
“Yeah. It’s a rush, for sure.”
“I’ll bet. Sorry you got hurt, though.”
“No big deal. Still worth it.”
“So… are you staying in Forks now?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Renee would rather be with Phil, anyway.”
“Awesome. You should come down to La Push. I could show you my car.”
“That sounds great. I’d love to see how it’s coming along.”
He grinned. “It’s almost finished. My dad held up his end of the deal last spring.”
I smiled back. For some reason, talking to Jacob didn’t hurt. No burning in my chest. No crushing weight. Just… quiet.
“Can I come down tomorrow?”
“Sure. I get up early on Sundays.”
We ate while Charlie and Billy made sports bets and exchanged old jokes. Jacob and I stayed in the kitchen, talking quietly.
“Some of the guys like to cliff dive,” he said. “You’d probably love it, considering you’re into all that extreme stuff.”
“Sounds like fun. Though I doubt it compares to skydiving.”
“Maybe not. But you should try it.”
“I’m in. Tomorrow?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You, uh… you do realize you’ve got a broken leg, right?”
I snorted, swallowing a bite of food. “Obviously it’ll have to wait. I’m not that reckless.”
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Good. I was thinking, What is she, insane?”
I stood, wobbling toward the sink, and patted him on the head. “Deep breaths, Jacob. You’ll be okay.”
He shot me a mock glare. “Are you implying I’m slow?”
“Well, not always. But today, it’s looking pretty likely.”
He clutched his chest in mock offense. “Fine. I’ll just go sulk in the living room.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I called after him.
“Can’t wait!” he yelled back. The couch groaned as he dropped onto it.
I smiled to myself and started on the dishes.
Jacob was easy to talk to. Too easy.
His smile came freely, his laugh was unfiltered, and he didn’t walk on eggshells around me. He wasn’t trying to fix me, or pretending not to see how broken I was. And that, ironically, made him feel safe.
As I sat across from him, watching the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his car, it hit me—he wasn’t haunted. Not like I was. Not like I would always be. There was no darkness hovering over his shoulders, no weight in his words. He was still whole.
And I envied him for that.
Jacob talked about cliff diving and school and fishing trips like the world hadn’t shifted under our feet. As if gravity still worked the same way. As if everything could still be normal.
He didn’t know what it was like to scream yourself awake. To beg for silence and be terrified when it came. He didn’t know how it felt to breathe and wish you weren’t. He didn’t know that half of me had been carved out and left somewhere in the woods.
He didn’t know… and maybe that’s why I needed him.
Because when I was with Jacob, I could pretend.
Pretend I was just a girl with a broken leg and a bad habit of chasing thrills. Pretend that the gaping hole in my chest wasn’t growing wider every night. Pretend that I wasn’t still trying to summon Edward’s voice like a ghost out of my memories.
But pretending only worked until I was alone again.
Still, for those few hours, Jacob made me smile without it hurting.
That had to count for something.
Later that night, after the Blacks had left, Charlie came into the kitchen.
“It’s good to see you and Jake getting along. He’s a good kid.”
“Yeah. Kid being the key word,” I said, reading the look in his eyes.
He was already playing matchmaker.
“Look, Bells. Maybe hanging out with him will do you some good.”
“Dad, don’t start. You and Renee both need to let me handle this.”
“We’re your parents. We’re worried. That’s not going to change.”
I sighed, climbing the stairs. The cast made it difficult. By the time I reached the top, I felt like I’d run a marathon. I waddled toward my room.
When I stepped inside and dropped the cast boot on the floor, a floorboard lifted at the other end of the room.
That had never happened before.
Curious, I hobbled over and knelt down. I tugged gently. The board came up easily. Beneath it was a stack of items.
Photos. The CD Edward had made me. I pulled everything out, my hands trembling.
The pictures were all of him. Of us. His face—so perfect, so heartbreakingly beautiful—stared back at me, frozen in time.
My breath caught. My chest burned.
At the bottom of the pile was a folded note.
I unfolded it, my fingers shaking.
Look after my heart. I’m leaving it with you.
The paper slipped from my hands.
I folded forward, doubled over as the pain tore through me. My whole chest felt like it was splitting apart. Sobs broke from my throat uncontrollably.
He hadn’t taken my things.
He’d hidden them.
For me.
Why?
Why leave this if he didn’t want me? Why lie?
I rolled onto my side, clutching my ribs, as the grief tore into me. I couldn’t hold it in. I didn’t try.
Then I wasn’t in my room anymore.
I didn’t remember falling asleep.
One minute I was lying on the floor, clutching the letter like a lifeline—
The next, I was in the meadow again.
But it wasn’t our meadow.
The light was wrong. The air felt heavy. Oppressive.
Edward was there. But he looked… different. His skin sparkled beneath the too-bright sun, but it didn’t warm me like it used to. His eyes were darker than I remembered. Not golden, not topaz—almost black. Like obsidian. Like regret.
He stood still as I approached. Not smiling. Just watching.
I reached out, but every step forward felt harder, like the air had turned to water. I was moving in slow motion while he stood in perfect stillness.
“Edward,” I whispered, but my voice didn’t carry.
He tilted his head. Sad. Silent.
Then, slowly, he raised his hand.
In it was my heart—still crushed, still bleeding.
“I left it with you,” he said softly. “But you stopped taking care of it.”
I tried to speak, but my throat was tight. My mouth moved, but no sound escaped.
He stepped back. “You let it rot.”
“No—” I tried again, reaching for him, desperate, terrified.
But then the shadows crept in.
Dozens of dark cloaks emerged from the trees. Faces like statues. Eyes red as blood.
They moved like a tide—unstoppable, silent, inevitable.
They surrounded Edward. He didn’t move. Didn’t resist. Just watched me.
“Fight back!” I screamed, finding my voice at last. “Please!”
He didn’t.
Then, fire.
It rose behind him first, then through him, consuming his body as if he were made of dry leaves. The smell of ash filled my lungs. I ran toward him, shrieking, clawing at the robes that blocked my way.
They didn’t touch me. They didn’t need to. They just stood, still and unmoving, as I collapsed in front of the flames.
Then something cold wrapped around my neck.
I turned.
There, stood a man with piercing red eyes and slick, long black hair.
“Such loyalty,” he said. “We admire that. But love… love is a dangerous weakness.”
I tried to back away. He didn’t let me.
“Let us help you forget,” he whispered.
Then came the pain.
It wasn’t physical—not at first. It was inside me, ripping through my thoughts, my memories, tearing Edward away from every corner of my mind.
I thrashed, screaming, as the memories bled out one by one—his smile, his voice, the way he’d said my name like it meant something.
I begged them to stop.
But the cloaks closed in.
Then the teeth came. And the fire. And I—
I woke up screaming.
1.7562 Billion Miles 