No matter how long I’ve been alive—undead—I’m still caught off guard by how fast time can pass. It’s only been a week since she appeared… and in mere hours, she turned everything upside down.

Thankfully, I’m not alone in this chaos. Edward is also smitten with a human. Normally, when he starts mooning over one of them, I give him hell for it. Falling for something so far beneath us—it’s absurd. But this time, I’ve forfeited my right to say anything.

Since Edward is having such a hard time controlling himself around Bella, I decided to borrow his excuse—that her scent is driving me crazy. And it’s not exactly a lie.

Emmett, of course, has noticed the change. One minute, I’m practically glued to him; the next, I’m keeping my distance. Thankfully, Alice knows the truth and has been my sounding board. Naturally, she thinks I should just be upfront with everyone—especially Emmett—that avoiding him will only make it worse.

And I know she’s right. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Because I know that if I tell him—if I admit my feelings for her—it will be the first step toward the end of us and not ready for that.

Sadly, we couldn’t hide forever—no matter how much I wanted to—which is why I’m sitting in the front seat next to Edward, who’s driving. Thankfully, Alice always manages to come up with some excuse for why I’ve been riding shotgun so often. Today’s story was that she wanted some early-morning cuddling. Cute… but who are we kidding? No one’s buying it.

We get to school early, as usual, and linger by the car. Normally, I don’t mind the routine, but now every glance at Emmett twists the knife of guilt a little deeper. Guilt for these feelings I shouldn’t have. Guilt for keeping him in the dark. Guilt for the hurt I must be causing him without even explaining why. He doesn’t deserve this.

The low growl of a motorcycle engine pulls me out of my thoughts—along with the unmistakable scent I’ve been trying to forget. She rides into the lot, scanning for a parking space. I catch myself holding my breath, even though I don’t need to breathe.

She wearing the same jacket as last time, along white band tee and dark grey skinny jeans. To finish her look – a black pair of cowboy boots –  

It’s strange, the way her personality contrasts with her style. We didn’t talk much last Monday, but I could tell she was kind. And I could tell, by the rapid thrum of her heart, that I made her nervous… and the worst part? I liked it. I liked how she reacted to me. It made me feel something I hadn’t in a very long time—wanted.

Not that Emmett’s ever done anything wrong. But after what I went through with that pig, any tolerance I had for men evaporated.

When I was still human, I’d been raised to be a trophy wife for the right man, and I’d accepted it. That was my role. Until the day everything changed. The day the pig got rougher than usual. The day Clara took care of me. After that, I questioned everything.

Now, the idea of being with a woman isn’t shocking. But back then… it was terrifying

I wasn’t sure who I really was. So when Carlisle turned Emmett, I thought—who better than someone so genuinely sweet? And for a long time, I believed I was happy. I do love Emmett. But now I’m questioning if I’ve been with him out of love… or because he was safe. Because he would never hurt me—not like he did. And certainly not like Clara… not that Clara ever hurt me. If anything, I was the one who left her behind.

Id often wonder if I could’ve been honest with her. Maybe I could’ve convinced her to come with us. But instead, I disappeared. And though a small part of me hoped that ring I left might help her, I can’t shake the fear it only made things worse—that it confirmed I’d abandoned her.

Maybe I haven’t been hiding my emotions as well as I thought since Emmett looking in my direction before asking “Rosalie, you okay?” Emmett’s voice is gentle.

I don’t deserve someone like him. Even now, with all my walls up, he’s still looking out for me. It makes me smile—just a little.

“Look, Em… I know I’ve been off lately. I’ll explain, I promise. But it’s nothing you need to worry about, okay?” I meet his eyes, trying to sound reassuring.

But it’s clear he doesn’t believe me—and I can’t blame him.

Before he can say anything else, the screech of a car cuts through the air.

I follow the sound of screeching tires, and my eyes immediately find the source. Of course. Them. Elodie and Bella.

The first thought in my head is How could she be so reckless?—but it’s only a mask. A way to smother the sharp, sick twist of déjà vu in my chest. Because I’ve felt this before.

That night, lying on the floor, bleeding out, knowing that if I died, I’d lose my chance to be with Clara forever. I refuse to feel that again. Not when I can still do something about it.

And from the way Edward suddenly tenses beside me, I know he’s thinking the exact same thing.

We both move. Edward throws himself toward Bella, catching the car with his bare hands. I come from behind, grab the back of Elodie’s jacket, and pull her into my arms—hard enough that we slam into the side of a parked car.

Up close, it’s worse. Her scent is intoxicating, but holding her—feeling her—brings back memories of quiet moments with Clara. The way I’d yearned for more. The way I’m yearning now. My eyes drift toward her lips before I can stop myself, wondering if they taste as sweet as she smells.

I need a distraction. Anything to pull me away from this spiral.
“You alright?” I ask, trying—and failing—to keep my voice cool.

“I…” her voice catches before she continues, “I think so.”

God, she looks so helpless in my arms. Like I once was, before Carlisle turned me.

I can’t tell which urge is stronger: the need to protect her, or the thought of what her heartbeat would sound like if my lips were on hers. But the sudden swell of noise from the gathered students snaps me back. I’ve just made a scene—one that could have blown our cover.

“I saw it coming,” I mumble, the pathetic excuse tumbling out before I can stop it. I hate how unsteady she makes me feel. Needing space, I let her go and turn away without another word, heading for the others.

When I reach them, I can’t meet their eyes. The risk I just took… it could force us to move again.
“I couldn’t just—” I start, but Alice’s gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

“You did the right thing, Rosalie,” she says softly, adding under her breath, “Consequences be damned.”

“But what if—” I try again.

“What if what?” Emmett cuts in. “If our cover’s blown, then we’ll find somewhere new. We always do.” His smile is gentle, too gentle, and it twists the guilt in my gut. I can’t keep lying to him. I have to tell him.

But before I can speak, Edward is suddenly at my side, looking almost as shocked by his decision as I am by mine.

“Come with you two,” Alice says, already heading toward Elodie and Bella.

Every instinct in me screams to run—but instead, I follow. Alice has a plan. And maybe, just maybe, it will save me from Carlisle’s inevitable lecture on “being more careful.”

As we’re walking, the bell rings, and I catch the teacher asking Elodie and Bella if they have anyone who can drive them for a checkup.

She wouldn’t… I think.
Of course she does.

“I’ll take them,” Alice says without missing a beat.
Damn it.

The teacher glances our way. “Are you—?”

“Yeah, Ms. Thompson,” Alice cuts in smoothly. “Since both my brother and Rosalie were involved in the accident, it’s only right I take Bella and Elodie with me.” She flashes her trademark grin.

“Alright,” Ms. Thompson nods, clearly relieved to hand off the responsibility. “Once they’re checked out, be sure to return to school and let the secretary know.”

And just like that, she’s gone.

I can’t bring myself to look at Elodie yet. I’m still reeling from the way it felt to hold her—too much, too fast, too dangerous. Thankfully, Alice keeps things moving.

“Come on, you two,” she says, already leading us toward Edward’s car.

When we reach it, the tension shifts—because we all remember the last time we were in this car. The day we nearly ran over Elodie.

Alice, of course, is the first to cave under the guilt. She turns to Elodie.
“By the way, I just wanted to apologize,” she says, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

“For what?” Elodie asks, feigning ignorance far too well.

“For… you know. Almost running you over.” Alice shifts her weight awkwardly.

I cringe internally at the delivery, but to my surprise, Elodie takes it in stride.

“Oh,” she says with a small laugh. “It’s okay, really. I’m just glad it all ended up fine—for me and Mercy.”

Mercy? I wonder. Is that the name of the cat she rescued?

“Mercy…” Alice repeats. “Is that the kitten you rescued that day?”

“Yeah. I kind of met your dad at the hospital—there weren’t any vets available, but he offered to help. He didn’t even charge me.”

“Pfft… just like Carlisle to play the hero,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

Thankfully, I’ve claimed the front seat—Alice’s idea, since she’s “driving” due to Edward’s conveniently non-existent injury.

The ride feels endless. The air is thick, charged, and I keep catching myself stealing glances at her like some obsessed stalker. Alice tries to fill the silence with conversation, but it only grazes the surface.

Finally, we arrive. While Elodie and Bella explain what happened to the receptionist, Edward pulls Alice and me aside.

“I texted Carlisle on the way in,” he murmurs. “He should be able to suss out if they saw too much.”

Leave it to Edward to have a backup plan for the backup plan.

Once Elodie and Bella finish their side of things, we step up. The receptionist is someone we’ve seen around before when visiting Carlisle, so it’s easy enough to sell our version of events.

Then we take our seats. Luckily, we’re called almost immediately—and Alice suggests they go first. I can’t exactly argue. They need the checkup more than we do.

For the first few minutes, we’re all lost in our own thoughts, but it doesn’t last.

“So, not to point out the elephant in the room or anything, but I never thought I’d see the day you’d risk your neck for a human, Ro,” Alice says thoughtfully, her voice light but edged with curiosity.

“Well, at least I wasn’t the only one to put our secrecy in danger,” I reply—not with malice. If anything, I’m grateful I don’t have to carry this burden alone. I glance at Edward, and from the look he gives me, I know he understands.

“Pfffft, come on now, Ro,” Alice teases. “We weren’t surprised by Edward—you, on the other hand… Well, you did good, but definitely unexpected.”

“Am I that cruel in your eyes?” I ask, half-serious. Part of me is afraid of her answer.

Before she can respond, her phone rings. “It’s Jasper,” Alice says, already heading out of the room to talk to him privately.

“Don’t take Alice’s words to heart—you know how she sometimes talks before she thinks,” Edward says, clearly trying to reassure me.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Edward… but there’s a certain amount of truth to it. I haven’t always been the kindest—especially to humans. And with everything going on…” I trail off, unable to say aloud the truth—that I’m terrified of hurting the people closest to me.

“I won’t lie,” Edward says with a faint smile, “you have a reputation you tend to keep. But we also know the lengths you’d go to for this… strange little ‘family’ of ours.”

Before I can respond, I catch her scent—long before I hear her voice.

“Um… Rosalie, you’re next,” she says softly.

I lift my head to meet her eyes. She looks almost hesitant to speak to me, and I can’t blame her. It’s probably for the best, I tell myself, as I give her a small nod and head toward the examination room.

On the way, I can’t help but dread this moment. Not because Carlisle has ever done anything to frighten me—he’s never even raised his voice—but because I know what’s waiting in his eyes. Not anger. Disappointment.

When I step into the examination room, I spot him immediately. Calm. Composed. Ready. He gives me a small smile as I approach.
“I heard you had quite the morning,” he says, his tone gentle.

I hop up onto the examination table, and as he steps closer, his voice drops.
“As soon as Edward is called in, I’ll explain my findings. In the meantime, I’m going to give you a quick check—just to be sure. I know the chances of you being hurt are low, but you never know.”

He begins the exam, methodical and careful as always. But I can’t help noticing Bella stealing glances in our direction—too often, and with too much knowing in her eyes. Carlisle follows my gaze, then rests a hand lightly on my arm.
“Don’t,” he says simply.

“Don’t what?” I ask.

His expression softens. “Don’t look so guilty.”

I start to protest. “But I—”

“I’ve always worried about you the most,” he cuts in, his voice low. “Among all of your siblings. I know a part of you still resents me for turning you that night, and I take that blame wholly. I wish there had been another way to save you. But despite everything… I will never regret my choice.”

His hands still, his eyes darkening. “What those monsters did to you was beyond unforgivable. A small part of me wanted to hunt them down myself.” His jaw tightens, knuckles whitening. “But I knew that wasn’t my right. If they were to face justice, it would be by you—on your terms. Not that I condone what you did… but I hated myself for wanting the same.”

Carlisle doesn’t speak about that night often. He knows the wound hasn’t healed. Still, a small part of me is relieved he never went after them—not because it would have robbed me of my revenge, but because it would have broken him. And that’s the last thing I would ever want.

We hear Bella leave the room to fetch Edward. Carlisle looks back at me.
“What I’m trying to say is—I’m proud of you, Rosalie. Proud of the woman you’ve become.”

If I could cry, I’d probably be fighting back the tears threatening to surface, but instead I hold myself steady.

The door opens, and Edward steps in, giving a small nod to the other doctor on his way out—clearly arranged so Carlisle could have his little family moment first.
“Carlisle,” Edward greets respectfully.

“So,” I say, leaning back on the table, forcing a wry edge into my voice to mask the guilt still simmering in my chest. “What’s the damage?”

Carlisle’s lips tug upward. “Well… that depends.”

“On what?” Edward asks, immediately concerned.

“On whether you’d like the good or bad news first.” His smile widens just slightly.

“Seriously?!” I mutter, baffled. “Is Alice’s terrible sense of humor contagious now?”

Before I can roll my eyes any harder, Edward cuts in. “Start with the bad news.” His tone is clipped—he doesn’t care for jokes right now.

Carlisle’s face sobers. “After examining Elodie, and speaking with Dr. Bell regarding Bella, it’s clear they both feel something is… off.”

“Damn it,” I murmur under my breath. Edward might have been just as responsible for what happened, but somehow the guilt still lands heavier on me.

“Well,” Edward says, thoughtful but grim, “the girls aren’t stupid. I’m not surprised they’re suspicious. But is there a way to ease that suspicion?”

Carlisle hesitates, then, in that too-calm voice of his, replies, “Yes. There is a way. But I doubt either of you will like my advice.”

“How bad could it be?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Befriend them.”

For a moment, I just stare at him. Then—“Befriend them?! Are you insane? We should be avoiding them, not—”

He silences me with a small lift of his hand. That maddening patience.
“I knew you wouldn’t take kindly to the suggestion. But do either of you recall the idiom—hiding in plain sight?”

God. He always gets that tone when he’s about to launch into a lecture.

“You really think getting closer to them will make us less suspicious?” Edward asks, clearly struggling to swallow the logic.

“Yes,” Carlisle replies, firm but still gentle. “The more you avoid Elodie and Bella, the more suspicious you’ll appear. But if you befriend them, You’ll not only lower their suspicion but  also controlling the narrative—of what happened, and of what might happen in the future.”

I can’t fault his reasoning, but every instinct in me rebels. I can’t. I just can’t.

As if sensing our hesitation, he continues, “This is only advice. You can ignore it entirely—I would never force you into anything. All I can do is guide you toward what I believe is the right path.” His smile is soft. Parental. Infuriating.

“Yeah, right,” I mutter. He’d never outright force us, true… but he’s not above guilt-tripping like a disappointed parent.

If he heard me, he doesn’t call me on it. Instead Edward speaks up. “And what’s the good news?”

Carlisle allows himself a teasing smile. “That neither girl was injured—thanks to your heroics, of course.” His eyes glint with pride, though. That kind of pride that makes my chest ache even as I look away.

“Now,” he says, straightening, “let’s head to the waiting room. I’d like to speak with the girls and their parents—if my sense of smell hasn’t failed me.”

With that, he starts toward the door. Edward and I exchange a look, both of us wary but resigned, before following him out.

Following Carlisle to the waiting room, we spot Chief Swan and another officer. From the scent, you assume she must be Elodie’s mother—similar, yet with an odd difference to it.

“Chief Swan and—” Carlisle pauses before continuing smoothly, “Officer Matthews. What do we owe the honor to?”

Pfft. As if it isn’t obvious. But charming distractions is one of Carlisle’s specialties.

“Skye, this is Dr. Cullen,” Charlie explains before adding, “He’s a talented doctor, and also the father of Alice, Rosalie, and Edward.”

Talented doctor… well, that’s one way to inflate his ego. Not that he has one. Everything he does is out of the goodness of his heart.

“Doctor Cullen,” Charlie starts again, but Carlisle stops him with a simple gesture of his hand.

“Charlie, haven’t I told you it’s perfectly fine to call me Carlisle?” he says with his usual charm.

“And I recall telling you the same thing, Carlisle,” Charlie answers.

Smooth. If only his daughter had the same bite to ward off my brother. I still feel a flicker of pity at how he ignored her the entire class.

Carlisle chuckles. “Touché.”

“Carlisle, this is our newest officer, Skye Matthews,” Charlie adds. “Elodie’s mom.”

They certainly look similar. True, Elodie carries a trace of Asian heritage, but beyond that, the resemblance is clear.

Skye, Elodie’s mother, steps forward and offers her hand. “Seems I owe your children a great deal for savin’ these two,” she says in a clear Southern accent.

Interesting… I wonder why Elodie didn’t pick up the accent. Can’t help thinking it would sound stupidly charming on her. Ugh, what the hell am I even thinking?

“You don’t owe us anything, Officer Matthews,” Carlisle replies, shaking her hand. “We’re just thankful Rosalie and Edward were close enough to help. I’d hate to think what might’ve happened if they hadn’t been.”

That, at least, we can agree on. Despite the consequences, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore her when I was the only one who could help.

But before Skye can even answer, Carlisle cuts in smoothly, “Would it be alright if my children spoke with yours for a moment? I promise we won’t keep them long, but I imagine they’d like to say a few words before heading back to school.”

What the hell is he thinking? Throwing us under the bus like that. Some guardian angel he is.

Skye looks at Elodie and Bella instead of deciding for herself—waiting for their permission before sending them into the lion’s den. Both girls nod, eager for answers we can’t give.

Edward and I lead them away, out of earshot. As soon as we’re in a quieter corner, Bella doesn’t waste a second.

“Are you two going to explain how the hell you managed to reach us when you were on the opposite side of the lot?”

“We were closer than you think, Bella,” Edward says, trying for calm, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah,” I add, the word catching in my throat. “It’s completely normal to see things that aren’t there when your body’s full of adrenaline.” My tone comes out too sharp, an edge of defensiveness I can’t hide.

Elodie isn’t buying it. “Do you really expect us to believe that?” she asks, pinning me with those hazel eyes.

And damn it—those eyes. I’ve stared down death itself more times than I can count, faced monsters that would freeze most people in place. But her gaze? That terrifies me. Because it sees too much.

Still, I force myself to stay steady. This is the right thing. The last thing Elodie needs is me tangled in her life. I should be content already—with Emmett, with the family, with the safety of distance.

“Whether you believe it or not, Elodie,” I say, keeping my voice as cool and detached as possible, “that’s what happened. Now, if you’ll excuse us—we need to get back to school. I’m sure your parents can give you a ride.”

I don’t wait for her reply. I turn on my heel and walk away, refusing to glance back—not at Edward, not even at Carlisle.
All I know is that I need distance. Space. Anything to put miles between me and her.

At the door, I shoulder it open, stepping into the cool air outside. I draw in a breath I don’t need, but the sensation anchors me anyway. Pointless as it is, it feels like the closest thing to a memory of who I was before—before all of this. Before being turned.

The quiet doesn’t last. I hear the door creak open again behind me. My stomach twists. I’ve never been religious, but right now, I’m praying with every fiber of me that it isn’t Elodie.

By the time I reach the car, I tug open the back door and slide inside. A flicker of relief hits when I see it’s only Edward and Alice who followed. Not her.
Thank God.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I pull the door shut

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to join me—but neither says a word. Edward doesn’t even bother starting the car.

“Well, that could have gone better,” he mutters finally. Not cruel, just matter-of-fact. Still, hearing him state the obvious does nothing for my mood.

“Like you’re one to talk. You completely ignored Bella in class last week,” I snap back, sharper than I intended. My voice drips with venom I didn’t mean to let loose.

Alice twists in her seat, her eyes darting between us. “Can someone please explain what the hell just happened in there?” she asks, confused, just as Edward finally turns the key.

“Dear old Carlisle decided to throw us to the sharks, that’s what happened,” I mutter, staring down at my hands instead of either of their faces.

“Huh?” Alice frowns, still lost.

“Carlisle thought the best way to draw less suspicion was for us to befriend them,” Edward explains calmly as he steers us out of the hospital parking lot.

“And?” Alice presses.

Edward’s voice softens, tinged with concern. “I honestly don’t know, Alice.” He glances at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes lingering too long, as if he’s trying to read what I won’t say.

Then he shifts gears—literally and figuratively. “Something strange happened while you stepped out to answer your call,” he tells Alice. That must’ve been when Carlisle had me cornered.

“Good strange or bad strange?” Alice asks, wary but intrigued.

Edward’s lips twitch with amusement. “Well, it was certainly… entertaining.”

“Don’t keep us on the edge here. Tell us,” Alice sputters, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Elodie told me that if I kept hurting Bella, she’d hunt me down.” He says it with open amusement.

Alice bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach. Even I—still simmering from earlier—can’t help the faint curl of a smile. The image is ridiculous enough to cut through my mood.

As Alice calms down, she grins. “And what did you say?”

The humor drains from Edward’s face. His voice lowers, almost reluctant. “I told her I’d see why… Rosalie seems so intrigued by you.”

Alice’s smile falters. The weight of the reminder presses heavy in the car—Elodie’s effect on me, hanging unspoken but undeniable.

We pass the school, and Alice blinks. “Aren’t we going back?”

“I thought it might be better if we just went home today,” Edward says, his eyes flicking toward me again.

Alice gets it instantly. “Cool. Let me just text Jasper so he knows.” Her tone is light, but I catch the subtle care in her glance before she looks down at her phone.

Boyfriend. Fiancé. Words that should matter more than they do. I should be worried about Emmett, about what this means, about what kind of person forgets her own fiancé over a human girl she barely knows.

But I’m not. And that makes me feel like the worst kind of monster.

It’s well into the evening by the time everyone’s finally home. Not that I bother greeting anyone. From the moment I stepped through the door, I locked myself away. That’s the one perk of being undead—you don’t need food, sleep, or even company. Which means you can brood for days if you damn well please.

At least, that’s what I thought—until I hear a gentle knock.

“Who is it?” I call, already dreading the answer. God, please don’t let it be Emmett. I can’t look him in the eye right now.

“It’s me,” Carlisle answers softly. He doesn’t come in—he knows better than to cross that line with me.

Part of me exhales in relief, but the other part steels itself. “What do you want, Carlisle?” My tone’s flat. I don’t have the patience for one of his careful little lectures tonight, even if I know he means well.

“I thought we could go hunt together. It’s been a while since either of us fed,” he says gently.

And yes, I can feel the faint tug of hunger gnawing at the edges of my restraint—but it isn’t strong enough to force me out of this room. Not yet.

“No, thank you,” I mutter, hoping that’ll be enough to make him go.

It isn’t.

“No buts, Rosalie. We can’t risk you losing control. Get ready and meet me outside,” he says, the finality in his voice leaving me no choice.

“Fine,” I snap, sounding like some sulky teenager. How low have I fallen these days?

I don’t even change. Just lace up a pair of hiking boots and call it good. The house is quiet when I step out—most of the others must already be hunting. That word. Hunt. Another reminder of what we really are. Beasts.

Carlisle is waiting just beyond the porch. He hides it well, but I can see the concern etched in his eyes.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Where to?”

“Follow me,” he says, hesitating for just a moment. “There’s something I need to speak with you about first. It’s about… Clara.”

The name hits me like a blow. How the hell does he know about Clara? My chest tightens, and before I can demand an answer, he takes off—baiting me to follow. Like I’m a child. Ugh. Still, I chase after him, if only because I need answers.

It takes a while before he slows, leading us into a quiet clearing bathed in moonlight. Beautiful, serene—mocking me.

I don’t waste a second. “How the hell do you know about Clara? How long have you known and kept quiet?” The words tear out edged with my anger.

Carlisle, ever calm, only gives me that maddeningly gentle smile. “I’ve known since the night I turned you. After I brought you back, I asked Esme to stay with you while I went to speak with your family. I thought they deserved to know…” He trails off, unwilling to finish.

My throat tightens.

“Sadly, your family was too busy with their own lives that evening. So I spoke to the young woman who answered the door.” His eyes lock on mine, weighing my reaction.

“No…” The word escapes me before I can stop it.

“When I told her what had happened, she didn’t react the way I expected. Shock, yes, but then…”

“Stop.” My voice comes out frail, trembling in a way I hate.

“Don’t you want to know?” he asks gently.

“Of course I want to know,” I whisper. “Clara was the only thing that mattered to me back then. But the thought of hearing her pain—it breaks me more than it could ever help.”

“Understandable,” he says softly. “I could spare you the details—”

“Tell me everything,” I cut in, barely more than a whisper. Because as much as it hurts, it would hurt worse to never know if her affection had been real.

Carlisle inclines his head. “She wasn’t indifferent, Rosalie. Not at all. The moment I told her, she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She wept as though she’d lost everything.”

The words pierce straight through me. Clara. Sweet Clara. Why did it have to be you that answered that door? You were probably waiting for me that night. Expecting me. We’d planned to spend those stolen hours together, just the two of us.

And instead… you got him.

“Seeing the young woman’s reaction, I couldn’t just leave her,” Carlisle says. If it were anyone else, I’d call it an excuse. But not him. At least someone was there to hold her as she wept for me.

“So I knelt down, took her hand… and let her cry. It took several minutes before she could breathe again. I was starting to worry—I’d never seen anyone so distraught,” he admits, the memory still weighing on him.

“When she calmed enough to speak, I asked her name. Between the sniffles, she said Clara. And that’s when I asked what you were to her.” Carlisle pauses, eyes flickering with kindness as they meet mine.

“She told me she was in love with you. That you’d planned to run away together. And that was when I realized…” He gives me a sad little smile. “Any hope I had of you and Edward becoming something was gone.”

“That’s it?” The words leave me harsher than I mean them to, but I can’t help it. My undead heart cracks, and still—it isn’t enough. I need more.

“Not much else to say,” Carlisle replies gently. “I stayed with her until she steadied. Then I left, before my presence made things worse.”

He looks down, and for a moment, I think that’s all he’ll give me. But then his voice softens again. “That wasn’t the only time I saw her. The week before we moved on, I couldn’t stop thinking about Clara. About the pain in her eyes. It stayed with me, so I decided to leave her something behind. A chance.”

I blink, startled.

“I couldn’t explain much, or reveal who I was,” he continues. “But I left a note tucked among her things. It led her to a hidden chest. Inside was the deed to my old clinic, signed in her name. I don’t know if she ever found it, or what she did with it—sell it, keep it—it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I tried to give her some security. Something that might keep her safe.”

I stare at him, silent. It shouldn’t surprise me. Carlisle always goes out of his way to help people—he saved me. And yet, the thought of Clara holding the ring I gave her… maybe finding the deed… maybe having a real chance at safety, at freedom—it cuts deeper than I can stand.

Before I can stop myself, I step forward and wrap my arms around him. I know it’s not me—it’s not who I am. I’m not the hugging type. But words fail me. So I just hold him, tight, and hope he feels my gratitude in the only way I can give it.

After what feels like forever, I finally let him go.

“What didn’t you tell me that you knew?” I ask, keeping my voice as gentle as I can, even though the need for an answer claws at me.

“I was a coward,” he says softly, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I was afraid that if I told you… you’d lose the progress you’d made. And when I finally planned to tell you… well, Emmett happened. And since you looked happy—or at least, I thought you were—I didn’t want to stir up the past again.”

“So… why now?” I ask, my stomach tightening. I already dread the answer.

“You know why,” Carlisle replies gently, and I can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he says quietly, and despite every part of me screaming not to, I do.

“Rosalie… what does she mean to you?” His voice is too simple, too calm.

“I… I don’t know,” I whisper, barely able to admit it to myself.

“Does she remind you of her?” he presses, and I nod, because she does.

“What does she remind you of?” he asks next.

“I… I don’t know,” I mutter again.

“Come on, Rosalie,” he says gently, patient but insistent. “Be honest. If not with me, then with yourself.”

I swallow hard. “She reminds me of the thrill I felt when she noticed me… of the safety I felt when I was around her. Like I could take on the whole world with her by my side.” The admission surprises me almost as much as it relieves me.

“But I can’t,” I add, my voice tinged with hopelessness and guilt. “I can’t do this to Emmett, Carlisle. I can’t just throw everything away… for someone I barely even know.”

“Do you honestly think he hasn’t noticed?” Carlisle asks softly.

“I know… and yet…” I trail off, unable to finish.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he says gently.

“Nothing scares me anymore, Carlisle,” I reply, though I know it doesn’t sound convincing.

“Look,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “like I told you this morning, I can’t force you to do anything. But if it were me… I wouldn’t throw away the chance to be in love again. Our lives… this curse I brought upon all of us… it can be a lonely journey. And the only thing that kept me sane, that kept me happy… was all of you.”

He smiles at me then, that gentle, patient smile of his, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of calm.

“How about we finish this and then go home?” he asks, his tone easy, familiar.

I nod, the weight in my chest easing just enough to let me believe, even for a moment, that maybe some things can still be right.

It doesn’t take us long to find our prey, and I make sure to have my fill—liquid courage and all that, or whatever passes for it.

When Carlisle and I return home, he heads inside first. He gives me a small nod over his shoulder, a silent push. Come on, Ro. You can do this. You owe it to yourself… to Clara.

So I follow, head high, determination burning behind my eyes.

Inside, everyone has already gathered, voices drifting through the kitchen. Part of me wishes I could have caught him alone, but there’s no point delaying. If I hesitate now, I’ll never say it.

“Emmett, can we talk?” I ask, looking straight at him.

He nods, though I don’t miss the subtle shift of his shoulders, the way they tense—like he already knows what’s coming.

I tilt my head toward the door, and he follows me outside. We walk past the edge of the yard until the pines close around us, offering privacy.

At first, I can’t even look at him, despite being the one who dragged him out here.

“So…” Emmett says finally, just as nervous as I am. “What did you want to talk about?”

I turn, forcing myself to face him, though my eyes won’t quite meet his. “I should probably start with an apology. I know I’ve been distant, but it’s not about you. It’s… the past finally catching up with me.”

“Kinda hard to miss,” he says, with that half-smile, his humor slipping through even now. “So what’s this past you’re talking about? Lemme guess—does it have anything to do with that sorry excuse of a man?” His expression hardens, dark fury flickering in his eyes.

And that—that right there—is why I chose him. The day I dragged him to Carlisle, it wasn’t because I was looking for someone to fill the emptiness. But over time, Emmett became everything a man should be—steady, loyal, kind. He kept me sane. He made me feel loved, wanted, needed. For years, that was enough.

But somewhere deep down, I never questioned if I was truly in love. And then Elodie appeared—reminding me of what it felt like with Clara. That fire. That belonging. That possibility of more.

Emmett deserves the truth, even if it breaks him. Even if it breaks me.

“It’s not about that monster,” I say finally, voice steady but low. “Though… in a way, he’s connected. You see, during the time he was courting me, there was someone else.”

His brows lift.

“Scandalous,” he teases, tone exaggerated, trying to keep it light. That’s Emmett—always cushioning the blow before it lands.

I can’t help a small smile. “You have no idea how scandalous. If we’d been caught… I’d have been shunned by my own family.” Bitterness creeps into my words before I can stop it.

“It’s not like you were married to that deadbeat,” he tries again, still not seeing the shape of where I’m heading.

“Emmett…” I pause, drawing in a breath I don’t need—just to find the courage. “The reason it would’ve been such a scandal… was because she was a woman.”

The words fall quiet between us. And I see it—his mind turning over, pieces clicking into place. He’s no fool. He knows what this means.

It takes him a long moment to respond, but when he does, it’s soft. “Well… that explains a lot, actually.”

My brows pull together. “Like what?”

He gives me a sad, knowing smile. “You always seemed a little… lost. Whenever we were… affectionate. Like part of you was somewhere else. For the longest time, I thought it was just the trauma—that bastard left scars no one could see. But this…” He shakes his head. “This makes sense.”

I reach out instinctively, taking one of his big hands in mine. His warmth grounds me. My voice cracks when I speak.

“I’m sorry, Emmett. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. I’m sorry for using you as my safety net. I’m sorry for hurting you now.”

And in moments like this, I wish I could cry. I never was much of a crier in my human life—but now? Now I ache for the release of tears. For proof that my words aren’t just hollow apologies. For something to show him how much I mean it.

But all I have is my voice. And the weight of truth between us.

When he pulls his hand away, my chest caves in. That’s it, I think. I’ve ruined everything.

But then Emmett tugs me forward, wrapping me in one of his famous bear hugs. God—his hugs. Like being swallowed by a giant stuffed toy, all warmth and safety. I used to tease him about it.

“Don’t be,” he whispers against my hair. Then, a little louder, “Never apologize for being yourself, Rosalie. No matter who it hurts. You deserve to be you. To be happy.”

And that’s when it hits me—this man is too good. Too good for me, too good for this. I hug him tighter anyway, because part of me does love him—just not in the way I once thought. And because I know, when this hug ends, we’ll be finished.

“I know this is probably a stupid question but…” My voice wavers. “Do you think we could ever get back to this—but as friends?”

“Ppppffft. Friends? Never.” He pauses, drawing it out—whether for drama or just to torture me, I’ll never know. Then he grins faintly. “Last I checked, we’re practically family at this point.”

“Dumbass,” I mutter, clutching him tighter.

“Last I checked, that was part of my charm,” he shoots back.

It takes us a long while to let go. Neither of us is sure what comes after this. But when he finally does step back, Emmett rests both hands on my shoulders, wearing a sad little smile.

“Go get her.”

I look down, but I can’t stop the smile breaking over my face—bigger, freer than any I’ve worn in weeks. “It was that obvious, huh?”

“Kind of. I mean, I wasn’t a fan of seeing it, but…” He shrugs. “You looked like a lost puppy.”

I scoff, feigning offense. “It couldn’t have been that bad. Right?”

But he doesn’t answer. Just smiles, steps back, and finally turns away—heading inside, probably needing space to process all this.

It takes me longer to move, but when I finally drag myself from the pines and step back into the house, they’re all there. The whole family. Gathered in the kitchen, Except for Carlisle who probobly checking on Emmet, staring at me with a mix of shock and concern.

I narrow my eyes. “I swear to whatever god is listening—if any of you heard what just happened, I’ll go on a rampage.”

Silence. All of them suddenly fascinated with anything that isn’t me, though their eyes keep sneaking back in my direction.

“Ugh… don’t you idiots realize how embarrassing this is?” I mutter.

“Sweetheart, we’re just… worried, is all,” Esme says softly, her voice that endless well of gentleness.

I shake my head, exhaling. “Look, I know how this looks. Hell, half the time I feel like I’m losing my mind. But I did the right thing. I have to see what this thing with Elodie really is. And Emmett—he deserves someone who can give him what I can’t.”

I leave them with that, slipping away to my room. More than they deserve after eavesdropping—though with vampire hearing, it barely counts as that.

For the first time in years, though, I feel it. A thrill. A shiver down my spine. A reminder of what it means to be alive.