The earlier drizzle had turned harsher by the time we pulled into the hospital lot, the rain drumming steadily against Bella’s old pickup. Thankfully, we made it to the local clinic without much trouble.

I glance down to check on the kitten nestled in my lap—she’s curled into a tiny ball, fast asleep. I can’t help but smile. Yeah, I almost died today, sure—but seeing her safe, warm, and completely at peace? Honestly? Worth it. I’d probably do it all over again, much to my mom’s horror.

“Ready to go in?” Bella asks, casting a quick look toward the little bundle of fur.

I nod, but before stepping out into the rain, I need to make sure the kitten won’t get soaked again. That can’t be good for one her age. Carefully, I scoop her up, earning a few sleepy protests—apparently, she was having the best dream ever about wet food and catnip.

I hold her gently against my chest, and she peers up at me with those big, round eyes.

“Listen here, little one,” I whisper, as if she could actually understand me. “We’re just visiting the vet, okay? I know it might be scary—I hate going to the doctor too—but they’re gonna help us make sure you’re alright. Got it?”

The kitten keeps staring at me, like she actually gets it.

Smiling, I tuck her in and wrap my leather jacket snugly around her, leaving just her head poking out so she can breathe.

When I glance up, Bella’s looking at me with this strange expression—somewhere between amused and touched.

“Something the matter, Bells?” I ask, raising a brow.

She blinks out of it. “No, it’s just... I think it’s kind of sweet. The way you’ve gone full mama bear over that kitten.”

“Full mama bear? What does that even—”

But before I can finish, she’s already hopped out of the truck.

What the heck?

Making sure the kitten is tucked in tight, I open the door and rush after her toward the hospital entrance, shielding the little one as best I can from the rain

The first thing that hits you when you walk through the hospital doors is the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic. What surprises me more, though, is how small the place feels—especially the compact lobby, where a few empty chairs line the walls and a reception desk sits tucked across from the entrance.

I follow Bella to the desk, where a woman with tired eyes and a warm smile looks up from her computer.

“Hi,” I start, nodding slightly toward the bundle in my arms. “Can you direct us to the vet section, please?”

The receptionist glances down at the kitten, whose tiny head is still poking out from the folds of my jacket.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says kindly. “The vet’s only in during the mornings and early afternoons. I can set an appointment for you if you’d like?”

Before either of us can reply, someone approaches from the hallway behind the desk—and there’s something about him that makes me instinctively straighten up.

He’s... striking.

Tall and poised, with a quiet kind of grace that feels almost unnatural. His blond hair is neatly styled, not a strand out of place, and his features are chiseled with a sort of classical beauty you’d expect from an old oil painting—too perfect, too serene. His pale skin almost seems to catch the artificial lighting, like it’s reflecting instead of absorbing. But what really holds me are his eyes: golden, kind, and oddly knowing.

“Is there an emergency?” he asks in a smooth, calm voice. It’s soft, but there’s a weight to it—like he’s used to people listening when he speaks.

The receptionist blinks, already relaxing a bit. “Dr. Cullen, these girls were looking for the vet, they’ve got a kitten. Poor thing’s soaked through.”

Carlisle Cullen turns his gaze toward me, and for a moment, I feel like he’s reading every thought I’ve ever had.

“Let me take a look,” he says gently, offering a reassuring smile. “I’m not a veterinarian, but I’ve treated my fair share of animals before. We’ll see if she needs anything urgent.”

His presence is oddly comforting—like someone who belongs here, but somehow doesn’t at the same time. As he gestures for us to follow him down the hallway, I glance at Bella. She doesn’t say a word, but I catch the quick raise of her brows. Yeah, she noticed too.

This guy’s... different.

As we follow after the doctor, I can’t help but speak up.

“Um… Dr. Cullen?” I call gently.

He pauses and turns in my direction.

“I… I just wanted to thank you. I found her today, in the middle of the street, totally soaked and mewing like she was looking for someone. I—I assumed she was calling for her mother. I know I probably should’ve looked around for her, but… I don’t know. It felt like she needed me, somehow.”

I glance down at the tiny kitten nestled in my jacket, her curious eyes still scanning the room.

Dr. Cullen offers a soft smile. “First, I’m just doing my job, miss. Second, don’t overthink it. You can always search the area again once the rain lets up.”

Then, with a quiet, almost melancholic tone, he adds, “Nature can be a brutal thing. It’s rarely merciful, not even to the youngest.”

He gives the kitten a thoughtful look before continuing into an examination room. The space is clearly outfitted for animals—equipment, tools, and a metal table in the center.

“Could you place her on the table, please?” he asks gently.

As I begin unzipping my jacket, the kitten immediately senses something is about to happen and digs her tiny claws into me.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. He’s not going to hurt you, I promise,” I whisper, trying to gently coax her off.

Dr. Cullen watches patiently. “Since you’ve been using female pronouns, I take it you know her gender?”

Still struggling to loosen her grip, I glance briefly at Bella, then back at him, shaking my head.

“It’s not a problem,” he says kindly. “I can confirm for you, if you’d like.”

I nod, and after a bit of maneuvering, finally manage to lift the fuzzy bundle from my chest and place her on the table. The moment her paws hit the metal, she scrambles toward me—but Dr. Cullen gently catches her with practiced hands.

“The good news is—you were right,” he says, checking quickly. “She is a girl.”

I let out a soft breath of relief as he continues. “Do you have a name for her yet?”

Looking down at the little creature, I pause.

“I haven’t really thought about it… but for some reason, ‘Mercy’ feels right.”

He gives me a knowing smile, clearly understanding the weight behind the choice.

“It’s a beautiful name. For a beautiful little princess,” he says warmly, beginning to check her vitals.

“Can you tell what breed she is?” Bella asks, watching Mercy curiously.

Inspecting her ears and fur, he replies, “Although I’m no expert, she’s likely a Turkish Angora. A visit with an actual vet will confirm that.”

The check-up goes smoothly, though Mercy voices her protests here and there with tiny squeaks. We learn she’s between five and six weeks old—a precious, delicate age. Dr. Cullen tells us she appears healthy overall but will need bottle feeding, and he scribbles down a note: Kitten Milk Replacer (KMR).

“She’ll also need to be kept warm at all times,” he adds, “and monitored closely, especially at first.”

That part makes my stomach twist a little. I’ll be at school. Mom has work. But I don’t let the worry show just yet.

As he finishes up, I lift Mercy back into my arms, pressing her gently to my chest and wrapping my jacket around her again.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask softly.

Dr. Cullen shakes his head with a small smile. “Nothing.”

“But—” I start to protest, but he stops me with a raised hand.

“Like I said, I’m not a certified vet. This wasn’t an official visit. If you want to thank me… keep little Mercy safe, okay? Prove nature wrong.”

His words sit with me as he gestures toward the door.

In the reception area, we book an appointment with the actual vet—luckily, they have an opening later this week. I zip up my jacket again and glance down at Mercy, still nestled peacefully inside.

“Bells… you don’t think he’s related to…?” I murmur as we step outside.

Bella deadpans, “How many Cullens have you met in your entire life?”

“God. Is it just me, or are the Cullens just… I don’t know,” I say as we walk to her car.

“Exactly,” she says with a smirk, unlocking the doors.

We make light conversation as she drives, Mercy dozing softly against my legs. Bella even pulls into a small local grocery store and insists on going in herself while I stay in the car. When she returns with a small bag, we’re both exhausted, but grateful.

It’s dark by the time we reach home, and as Bella pulls up, I notice something.

“Wait—is that your dad’s car?” I ask.

Bella frowns. “He stayed with your mom out of concern, probably.”

She kills the engine and slumps back in her seat. “Can you… get my dad, please? I’m way too tired to walk in on them doing whatever.”

“Um. Sure,” I say, carefully lifting Mercy and wrapping her closer before stepping out.

As I climb the porch steps, the front door opens. Charlie steps out, my mom behind him, gently holding the door.

She whispers something I can’t make out before he nods and walks past me, giving a respectful nod as we pass.

As I step inside the house, the first thing I notice are two coffee cups on the low table and the soft glow of the fireplace flickering to life. That’s probably where they’d been waiting for us.

“How’s the little one doin’?” my mom asks in her familiar Southern drawl.

“Mercy’s fine,” I reply, glancing down at her still tucked snugly inside my jacket.

“Mercy, huh?” she echoes, raising a brow.

“Yeah. Sadly, the vet wasn’t open this late, but a doctor at the hospital had some experience with animals and offered to check her out. The weirdest part? He didn’t even bill me. Said something about not being a certified vet. I went ahead and booked an actual vet appointment anyway—it’s for Friday evening.”

When I finish explaining, I notice she isn’t looking at me—she’s staring quietly into the fire.

“Look, kiddo… what you did was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done,” she says, slow and steady, like she’s gearing up for a proper scolding.

I brace myself.

“But,” she says, turning to me with a small, proud smile, “I’m proud of you.”

“What?” I blurt out, caught completely off guard.

“I ain’t gonna pretend I liked seein’ you risk your life like that… but who am I to judge, really? I risk mine every day, hopin’ I can do some good—just like you did. Only thing I’m askin’? Next time, ask for help. I don’t know what I coulda done, but you don’t gotta do it all by yourself, got it?”

Her voice is warm and honest in that way only she can manage, and I find myself nodding, smiling back.

She shifts gears with ease, motioning to my bag. “So, what’d that fancy doctor tell ya?”

I unpack everything Dr. Cullen said, giving her the rundown while we settle in. About an hour later, Mercy stirs—clearly hungry—and Mom helps me feed her for the first time. Let me tell you, that kitten is lucky her fur is pure white, because she is a messy drinker.

That night, Mercy sleeps curled right against my side, and I fall asleep listening to her tiny purrs.

The next morning? I wake up to a nice little surprise on my blanket. Guess it’s time to start litter box training.

The week passes in a blur after that.

For some reason, neither Edward nor Rosalie show up to school for the rest of the week—which I try not to read too much into. Aside from that, I had to call Mr. Black to ask if we could keep Mercy in the first place. Thankfully, he didn’t seem too bothered. He did mention we’d have to cover any damages the little one causes, which… fair enough.

On Friday, Bella insisted on coming with me to the vet. Thankfully, the checkup went well. The vet prescribed Mercy some deworming pills and set a follow-up appointment for two weeks from now. On our way out, Dr. Cullen stopped by the clinic to check in on Mercy himself—which was surprisingly kind of him.

Saturday was quiet. I spent the day at home with Mom and Mercy, just enjoying the calm. But Sunday? That was reserved for something a little more unpredictable—I’d made plans to meet up with Jacob and Maya (assuming she actually showed this time). Jacob had sent me the directions via text, so I plugged them into my phone’s GPS before taking off on my bike.

It doesn’t take long to find the place, since it’s located right in La Push. I finally spot a small, modest house tucked into the trees. Beside it, there’s a detached garage—and out front, Jacob is working on his bike, shirtless of course. Maya stands nearby with her back to the garage, arms crossed, silently watching him work.

The moment they hear my bike approaching, Jacob gets up and wipes his hands off—hopefully on a rag and not the shirt he was wearing. Maya, meanwhile, doesn’t move. She just stays where she is, eyes locked on me like a predator tracking prey. This time, though, the usual cocky smirk she wears is gone—which is... a little concerning.

I pull up and park near the garage. Jacob’s already on his way over, Maya trailing behind him.

“Since it was dark that night, I didn’t get a good look at it,” he says, nodding toward my bike with an admiring gaze. “But damn—it’s one hell of a machine.”

“Custom-built?” he asks, clearly intrigued.

“Yeah,” I reply, glancing fondly at Rosie. “She was mostly junk when my mom got her for me on my sixteenth birthday. But the two of us fixed her up together—learned as we went.”

“Well, it shows. A lot of love and care went into this thing—I can tell,” he says, offering a warm, genuine smile.

Maya remains completely silent.

I carry on talking with Jacob—there’s no use trying to force Maya into a conversation she clearly doesn’t want to have.

“So, what are you working on?” I ask, nodding toward the bike he was fiddling with earlier.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says, a bit of awe in his voice. “I found it wrecked deep in the woods.”

“Lucky find,” I say with a small smile.

“With a few friends, I hauled it back here and started working on it,” he continues, his eyes lighting up as he looks at it. It’s clear he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Do you know what it was before... all this?” I ask gently.

“Yeah, it took a while, but me and my dad figured it out—it’s a 2004 Yamaha FZ6N,” he says, nodding.

“When do you think it’ll be road-ready?” I ask, curious.

“Who knows?” he shrugs. “Could be a few months... maybe a year. Or more.”

I give him a light tap on the shoulder. “It took me and my mom about a year to get mine fully running. And it still needs a few tweaks, honestly. So don’t give up, okay? If you ever need a hand, you can call me—or my mom.”

Jacob grins wide at that, his face lighting up—though his attention quickly shifts back to his unusually quiet cousin. He glances at Maya, brow furrowed.

“Cat got your tongue, Aya?”

She glares at him, her tone clipped. “You know bikes aren’t my thing, Jacob.”

He raises a brow, then glances at me, lowering his voice. “Did something happen at school or something?”

I sigh. “It’s... complicated.”

“She’s been weird since Monday. That’s why I’m asking,” he says, clearly concerned.

And honestly, I can’t help but tell him—though there isn’t much to say.

“Look... all I know is she got pretty upset when she found out there was another girl at school that I like.”

Jacob turns to Maya, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s what this is about? You’re in a bad mood because Elodie likes someone else?”

From the mix of indignation and flustered disbelief on her face, it’s obvious he hit the mark. She shoots him the scariest death stare I’ve ever seen.

“It’s not that simple,” she mutters, eyes dropping to her boots.

“Then what is it?” Jacob presses.

“It’s who she likes that got me so annoyed.”

Jacob looks thoroughly unimpressed. “How bad could it be?”

“Rosalie Cullen,” Maya mutters, finally lifting her gaze—this time, at me.

Jacob groans. “Of course. Falling for a Cullen,” he says, looking at me like I’ve just made his life harder. “And not just any Cullen—the most intimidating one out of the bunch.”

He shakes his head, sighing. “I want to be surprised, but considering the other person you like...” he says, nodding toward Maya.

And just like that, I feel my face heat up.

“Look, Elodie,” Jacob says gently—soft enough to sound sincere, but I can already tell he’s gearing up to meddle. “The last thing I want is to stick my nose in your love life… but the Cullens?” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Let’s just say… there’s no group more suspicious than that one.”

“Isn’t that kind of unfair?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even. “They can’t all be bad, right?” There’s a bitter edge to my voice—I know what it’s like to be judged before people even try to know me.

“Pfft. Of course she defends them,” Maya mutters. I’m not sure if it’s meant for me or just herself, but either way, the way she keeps looking at me like I’m naive is getting under my skin.

Jacob holds up his hands in a small gesture of peace. “I’m not saying they’re bad people, okay? It’s just… they’ve got their share of skeletons in the closet, that’s all.” His voice stays calm, careful.

“Closets?” I scoff quietly. “Don’t we all have a few skeletons in there, Jacob? No one’s perfect. Not me, not you—and definitely not them. I just… I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes people made when I came out.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Maya keeps staring at her boots, refusing to meet my eyes, and Jacob’s clearly trying to think of something to say that won’t make things worse.

“It’s not the same—” he starts, but I cut him off with a dry laugh.

“Isn’t it, though?” I ask, my voice low. “Back in my town, people saw me as just as ‘suspicious’ as the Cullens. Like I was suddenly dangerous, just for being honest about who I was. I didn’t change, Jacob. But the way they looked at me did.”
I exhale slowly. “I lost friends. Some of my own family turned their backs on me. The only person who stuck by me was my mom. So no—I’m not going to judge someone based on gossip and assumptions. Not after what I’ve been through.”

Jacob doesn’t say anything, and for a moment it feels like I’ve finally gotten through to him.

Then Maya speaks.

“And how’s that working out for you so far?” she says, voice laced with sarcasm.

“Well, better than it’s working out for you, that’s for sure,” I mutter, not caring if she hears. She does. But she doesn’t respond.

“On Monday,” I go on, voice quieter now, “I pulled a kitten out of the road. Bella and I took her to the hospital, looking for a vet. None were available—but it was Mr. Cullen who helped. He checked her over, treated her, and didn’t even charge me. And when I went back on Friday, he came out just to see how she was doing.”

“You know full well it’s not him I was talking about,” Maya snaps, her anger barely contained. I don’t get it. Why does it matter this much?

“Rosalie wasn’t awful either,” I say, meeting her glare. “Sure, she’s not the warmest person, but in biology, when we talked—she didn’t ignore me. She listened.”

“Oh, praise the mighty Rosalie,” Maya mutters. “All hail her for showing basic human decency.”

Before I can snap back, Jacob cuts in. “Wait—just Monday? Don’t you have more classes with her?” He sounds genuinely confused.

I hesitate, then shrug. “She kinda disappeared after that. Tried to change partners. Guess being paired with me in biology was enough to make her run for the office.” Bitterness creeps in, heavier than I want it to.

Jacob just keeps staring at me with this look—a strange mix of confusion and pity.

But before he can say anything, something in Maya snaps. Her eyes darken, the rage in them unmistakable. She takes a step forward—maybe two—and when she speaks, her voice comes out low, almost like a growl.

“I TRIED TO WARN YOU! I TRIED! BUT YOU WOULDN’T DAMN LISTEN!”

Instinctively, I step back. One foot, then another.

Jacob sees it too and immediately steps in front of me. “Maya, cal—”

“Stay out of it!” she snaps before he can finish. But for the first time, I notice the steel behind Jacob’s usually warm eyes. He’s not backing down.

“Maya, calm the hell down! Just listen to yourself!” he fires back, voice steady but sharp.

Then, more gently, he leans slightly toward me. “You’re scaring her. Is that really what you want?”

His voice softens just enough. “You’re better than this, Maya.”

He takes a step toward her.

And for a moment—it works. You can see it. She’s battling herself, fighting for control, fists clenched at her sides.

Then she turns sharply and storms off toward the forest. But not before slamming her fist into the outer wall of the garage. The sound of metal bending rings out loud and clear.

Every bone in my body is screaming at me to run—to go anywhere else. But like a moth to the damn flame, I take off after her.

As I pass the garage, I catch the sight of the large dent she left.
How the hell did she even do that?

“Elodie, don’t—” Jacob calls out, but I’m already too close to the tree line to stop now.

The moment I spot Maya moving deeper into the forest, I shout, “Maya, wait a damn minute!”

To my surprise, she actually stops—but she doesn’t turn around.

“Elodie, now is not the time,” she says, her voice strained, clearly trying to keep whatever’s going on inside her from slipping out.

I stop a few feet back, not stupid enough to get too close.
“What’s going on with you, Maya?” I ask, genuinely worried now. “At first I thought it was just jealousy, but this… it has to be deeper than that, right?”

“I… I don’t know,” she mutters. “It started that day. The way you and her were staring at each other during lunch… and you sketching her in art class... it triggered something in me.”

“Well, I kinda noticed,” I admit, arms crossing. “One minute you were all smirks and flirting, then suddenly you got so possessive—like I was some prize to be won. And I’m nobody’s damn reward.”

She finally turns. And I’m not sure what scares me more—the longing in her eyes or the smug smirk tugging at her lips. She starts moving closer. And against all logic, I keep stepping back until—
Thunk.
I hit a tree. Of course.

She reaches me in seconds. One hand rests just above my head, the other gently cups my chin. But instead of making me look at her, she tilts my head slightly to the side, her breath warm against my neck.

“Reward?” she scoffs quietly. “Tsk. Of course not. You have far more worth than that, Elodie. And if I really wanted you… you’d already be mine.”

A violent shiver tears through me—one she clearly notices and enjoys.
Whose side are you on, body? Seriously?

Now, if I were watching this in a movie, I’d be yelling at the screen, telling the girl to stop thinking with her hormones and use her damn head.
But I couldn’t move.

When she finally makes me look at her—really look—I can’t help but gasp.
Maybe it’s the confidence radiating off her like heat, or the way she’s touching me so gently, like I might break. Maybe it’s the look in her eyes that says she wants me—all of me—right here, right now.

Her hand slides from my chin to my cheek, warm and careful. And before I can stop myself, I close my eyes and sink into the feeling. I swear I hear her gasp, just barely.

When I open my eyes again, she’s even closer. But as near as she is, it’s clear she’s holding back. She won’t do anything without my permission, no matter how much she wants to.

And despite everything—despite how messed up this is—I want her to kiss me just as badly.

I start to lean in—
“Maya. We need to talk. Now.”

Billy Black’s voice cuts through the moment like a blade.

Maya’s eyes narrow in frustration. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”

“You can finish whatever this is later,” Billy says, his voice carrying a tone of authority she clearly can’t ignore. “We need to talk.”

She steps back, jaw tight, grounding herself again. Her mouth forms a silent sorry as she glances back at me, then follows Billy into the trees.

Jacob finally speaks, awkward and clearly uncomfortable. “Sorry about that, Elodie. I just thought—”

I cut him off with a small smile. “Would you believe me if I said I’m kinda glad you did?”

And I mean it. As much as I wanted that kiss—as much as it almost happened—it didn’t feel entirely like her. If she’s going to take my first kiss, I want it to be when she’s fully herself. Not… whatever that was.

Shaking my head, I glance back at Jacob. “So… are we still on for that tour?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” he grins, waiting until I fall into step beside him as we walk back to the garage.

“Since I’ve already seen most of town,” I say, “what exactly is this tour?”

“We’ll stick to the land,” he says. “Places you probably haven’t seen yet.”

I eye the garage, then his bike. “So since your bike’s out of commission, your riding with me?”

“Unless you want to walk all the way to where I’m taking you,” he teases.

“Fine. But ground rules.” I raise an eyebrow. “One: put a damn shirt on. Two: hold on tight but no funny business, got it?”

“You’re no fun,” he shoots back, laughing as he grabs a clean shirt from the back of the garage.

The first stop on our tour is La Push beach—specifically, First Beach.

As we ride up, the ocean breeze hits me before I even see the shoreline. When we finally park and I get off my bike, along with Jacob who rode with me, I take it all in slowly, my boots crunching against the pebbled path that leads toward the water.

It’s stunning in this wild, untamed kind of way. The beach stretches long and wide, framed by driftwood logs like nature’s forgotten furniture scattered across the shore. Towering evergreens loom in the distance, standing tall and quiet like sentinels watching over the place. The waves crash with a steady rhythm against the dark, wet sand, and the sky above is painted in streaks of steel grey and silver, broken occasionally by shafts of light trying to peek through.

There’s something ancient about this place, something that hums beneath the surface—like the land remembers things people have long forgotten. It’s beautiful, but not in a postcard kind of way. It’s colder than I expected, moodier too—but I like it.

The salt clings to my lips. The wind tosses strands of my hair in every direction. But I don’t care.

I look at Jacob, who watches me take it all in with a grin like he already knew how I’d react.
“It’s not bad, right?” he asks, nudging me lightly with his shoulder.

“Not bad?” I say, turning to face the water again. “It’s… kind of perfect.”

He smiles, and for a rare moment, there’s a quiet understanding between us. Like the beach didn’t just give me scenery—it gave me a little peace I didn’t know I needed

The next stop is one of Jacob’s favorite trail walks.

I can feel the grin on his face even before he tells me where to turn. His arms tighten slightly around my waist as I ease the bike down a gravel road that dips into the tree line, the roar of the engine swallowed quickly by the forest. It's not marked—just one of those half-hidden offshoots from the main road—but Jacob seems to know it like muscle memory.

We park in a small clearing shaded by towering pines and cedar, the forest thick and vibrant around us. I kill the engine and look back at him. “This is the trail?”

He nods, already hopping off the back of the bike. “Yup. Best one in all of La Push. No contest.”

“Didn’t your dad warn us not to be in the woods alone?” I ask, arching a brow as I glance at him with mock suspicion as I start following into the trail.

Jacob smirks, unbothered. “Nope. He warned you about not being in the woods alone.” He gestures around us with a casual wave. “I know these woods like the back of my hand.”

There's a cocky glint in his eyes, the kind that says he's definitely gotten that speech before—he’s just chosen to ignore it.

it starts narrow, with roots curling over the dirt path like nature’s speed bumps, and gradually widens into a winding trail surrounded by thick underbrush and moss-covered trees. The air here smells different—cooler, deeper. Earthy. Like it hasn't been disturbed in a while.

Jacob walks ahead, occasionally reaching back to push branches out of the way for me. The canopy above is dense, but the light that filters through dances in shifting patches across the ground. It feels like walking through a green cathedral—quiet, sacred, untouched. Every now and then, the trees part just enough to catch a glimpse of the cliffs in the distance, or the silver glint of the ocean beyond.

“There’s this one spot,” Jacob says, glancing back at me with a spark in his eyes, “you’ll see.”

We keep going, the sound of our footsteps muffled by the soft forest floor. Birds flit overhead. At one point, we pass a fallen tree that looks like it’s been there for a hundred years—Jacob just hops over it like he’s done it a hundred times, and offers me a hand after.

Eventually, we reach what he was talking about—a slight rise in the trail that opens onto a natural overlook. From here, the trees fall away just enough to reveal a breathtaking view: endless pine stretching to the cliffs, and just beyond that, the deep rolling grey-blue of the sea. It’s quiet except for the wind threading through the branches and the distant crash of waves far below.

Jacob leans on the trunk of an old cedar, arms crossed, watching my reaction with a smug kind of pride.

“Okay,” I admit, catching my breath. “That’s pretty damn impressive.”

“Told you,” he says, that same boyish grin tugging at his mouth. “This trail’s kind of my reset button.”

The final stop on the tour takes us on a slightly longer drive, winding away from the familiar paths and deeper into the high trees. The road narrows, curving along the cliffside, the air turning crisper the higher we climb.

Jacob rides behind me, arms loosely around my waist as the motorbike hums beneath us. It’s getting late—the sun dipping just enough to wash the world in that golden hush—but not so late that visibility becomes risky. Still, I ease back a little on the throttle, not wanting to take chances on these tight turns.

The trees thin as we climb, their silhouettes tall and watchful. I feel it before I really understand it—that strange, prickling calm that settles low in my spine. A sense of rightness. The kind that has no words, only a pull, like some forgotten part of me was waiting here this whole time. The air smells sharper, cleaner, and the wind rushing past carries something almost electric. My fingers tighten slightly on the handlebars, but I don’t slow down.

By the time we reach the peak, the view nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. The forest stretches endlessly below, the ocean visible in slivers beyond the horizon, and for a moment, it feels like we’re sitting on the edge of the world.

That’s when I spot her.

Maya.

She’s standing near the cliff’s edge, her arms wrapped loosely around herself, completely unaware of us. The wind tugs gently at her jacket, her hair shifting with it, but she doesn’t move. Her gaze is fixed out into the distance—lost in thought, or maybe trying to hold something back.

There’s a weight in the air now. Not heavy, exactly—but charged. Like the quiet right before lightning splits the sky.

As I park my bike at the top of the cliff, Maya finally turns to face me. Her expression is softer now—none of the anger from earlier remains.

"Could I speak to you for a minute, Elodie?" she asks gently.

Jacob glances at me, silently asking if I’ll be okay. I give him a small nod, and he takes the hint, heading off to give us some space.

We wait until he’s far enough down the path before Maya jerks her head toward a flat rock near the cliff's edge. It faces the view and looks like it might be comfortable enough—if a little cramped.

By the time I reach it, she’s already sitting. There’s not much room left, so I have to squeeze in beside her—not that I mind. It’s… kind of nice, the warmth of her thigh brushing against mine. I feel her body heat through the layers between us, and for a brief moment, I let myself enjoy it. But before my thoughts drift too far, I ground myself with a question.

"What did you want to talk about, Maya? Is it about earlier?"

She takes a moment before replying. “Yes… and no.”

What kind of answer is that?

She must catch the look on my face because she smiles, just slightly, one corner of her mouth tugging upward.

“I’ll explain… as best I can,” she says, her tone more serious now. “Which might be a bit difficult, since they barely told me anything.”

I tilt my head, waiting.

“Basically… I have to attend this weird retreat in the woods. No phone. No contact with anyone. Just… me, someone named Sam and a couple of the elders, apparently.”

My brow furrows. “What kind of retreat? Is Jacob going with you? And for how long?”

She sighs. “It’s… complicated.” Her eyes shift to the horizon before she continues. “All Billy said is that it’s some sort of coming-of-age thing. Jacob’s not going—he’s not old enough yet. And I’m not even allowed to mention it to him. Billy said I’d understand more once I was there.”

“And you're just… going along with it?” I ask, unable to hide my disbelief.

Maya shrugs, but her voice is quieter now. “Billy and Jacob… they were the only ones who ever really welcomed me into the tribe. Everyone else treated me like I didn’t belong. Like I was some kind of black sheep.”

The bitterness in her voice cuts deeper than I expect, and I recognize it all too well.

“So is this… goodbye?” I ask, a little confused. And more than a little stung. First Rosalie, now her?

She turns to me, wearing that trademark smirk I remember from the first day we met. “I’m not going anywhere, Elodie. I’ll still be on our land—just… off-grid for a while. But since I won’t be able to use my phone, I figured you deserved a proper goodbye.”

Her voice softens, her expression sincere. “Plus, you know… if Rosalie hires a hitman to take you out or something,” she adds with a grin, “just call my name and I’ll be there.”

I laugh despite myself. That mix of sarcasm and sincerity is just so… her.

Then she glances back out over the trees. “This place is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I say quietly. Then I hesitate before adding, “I don’t know why, but the moment I started heading up this cliff… I felt oddly at home. Like I was returning to something I never knew I needed.”

Maya turns to look at me, her smile tugging a little higher. “Well, I was waiting up here, after all.”

I snort at that, which earns me another glance from her, but before I can think too hard about it, the weight of what she’s just told me settles in. I don’t know how long she’ll be gone. I don’t know what kind of retreat this is, or what she'll be like when she returns. But I know I don’t want her leaving without a piece of me to take with her.

So, I rise slightly—she’s taller than me even sitting down—and I give her a small kiss on the cheek before quickly returning to my seat, cheeks burning.

She stares at me, clearly affected. Her fingers rise instinctively to touch the spot I kissed, like she’s afraid to lose it.

“What was that for?” she asks softly.

“Good luck… for whatever this retreat of yours is,” I say with a shy smile.

Before she can reply, Jacob’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Um… Elodie? My dad just called. He says we should start heading down before it gets too late. And Maya?” he adds, looking her way. “He said if I saw you, to let you know he needs to talk to you again.”

Maya nods silently, understanding more than either of us probably ever will.

As we both rise, I glance her way one more time. “Are you going to be okay?”

She gives me a warm, steady smile. “I will.”

Jacob looks between us. “What’d you come up here with, Aya?”

“I walked,” she replies casually.

“You walked all the way up here?” I echo, half in awe.

She grins. “I can handle myself just fine, Princess.”

Princess, huh? That’s new. But I don’t… hate it.

Jacob smirks. “You think you’ll be alright heading down on your own, Elodie? I should probably make sure Miss Big Shot here doesn’t get lost again.”

I laugh and nod. “I’ll be fine.”

I head back to my bike, tug on my gloves, and mount up. Jacob calls out as I rev the engine.

“Be safe. Watch for the turns—we’d hate to find you upside down in a ditch.”

“Considering I’d never live that down, I’ll be sure to take your advice, Jake,” I shoot back with a smile.

Before slipping on my helmet, I glance between the two of them. “I’ll see you then.”

They both nod.

I slide my helmet into place and secure the strap. It’s going to be a long ride home, and I need something to ground me. I open Spotify, scroll through my favorites, and hit play on On Melancholy Hill by Gorillaz. Fitting, somehow.

As the song begins, I flick on my headlight, give them one final nod, and begin the winding descent home—my thoughts echoing louder than the music