I FELT ABSOLUTELY HIDEOUS1 IN THE MORNING. I HADN'T slept well; my arm burned andmy head ached. It didn't help my outlook that Edward's face was smooth and remote as he kissed myforehead quickly and ducked out my window. I was afraid of the time I'd spent unconscious, afraid thathe might have been thinking about right and wrong again while he watched me sleep. The anxiety seemedto ratchet up the intensity2 of the pounding in my head.
Edward was waiting for me at school, as usual, but his face was still wrong. There was something buriedin his eyes that I couldn't be sure of—and it scared me. I didn't want to bring up last night, but I wasn'tsure if avoiding the subject would be worse.
He opened my door for me.
"How do you feel?""Perfect," I lied, cringing3 as the sound of the slamming door echoed in my head.
We walked in silence, he shortening his stride to match mine. There were so many questions I wanted toask, but most of those questions would have to wait, because chey were for Alice: How was Jasper thismorning? What had they said when I was gone? What had Rosalie said? And most importantly, whatcould she see happening now in her strange, imperfect visions of the future? Could she guess whatEdward was thinking, why he was so gloomy? Was there a foundation for the tenuous4, instinctive5 fearsthat I couldn't seem to shake?
The morning passed slowly. I was impatient to see Alice, though I wouldn't be able to really talk to herwith Edward there. Edward remained aloof6. Occasionally he would ask about my arm, and I would lie.
Alice usually beat us to lunch; she didn't have to keep pace with a sloth7 like me. But she wasn't at thetable, waiting with a tray of food she wouldn't eat.
Edward didn't say anything about her absence. I wondered to myself if her class was running late—until Isaw Conner and Ben, who were in her fourth hour French class.
"Where's Alice?" I asked Edward anxiously.
He looked at the granola bar he was slowly pulverizing8 between his fingertips while he answered. "She'swith Jasper.""Is he okay?""He's gone away for a while.""What? Where?"Edward shrugged9. "Nowhere in particular.""And Alice, too," I said with quiet desperation. Of course, if Jasper needed her, she would go.
"Yes. She'll be gone for a while. She was trying to convince him to go to Denali."Denali was where the one other band of unique vampires—good ones like the Cullens—lived. Tanya and her family. I'd heard of them now and again. Edward had run to them last winter when my arrival hadmade Forks difficult for him. Laurent, the most civilized10 member of James's little coven, had gone thererather than siding with James against the Cullens. It made sense for Alice to encourage Jasper to gothere.
I swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. The guilt11 made my head bow and myshoulders slump12. I'd run them out of their home, just like Rosalie and Emmett. I was a plague.
"Is your arm bothering you?" he asked solicitously13.
"Who cares about my stupid arm?" I muttered in disgust.
He didn't answer, and I put my head down on the table.
By the end of the day, the silence was becoming ridiculous. I didn't want to be the one to break it, butapparently that was my only choice if I ever wanted him to talk to me again.
"You'll come over later tonight?" I asked as he walked me—silently—to my truck. He always came over.
"Later?"It pleased me that he seemed surprised. "I have to work. I had to trade with Mrs. Newton to getyesterday off.""Oh," he murmured.
"So you'll come over when I'm home, though, right?" I hated that I felt suddenly unsure about this.
"If you want me to.""I always want you," I reminded him, with perhaps a little more intensity than the conversation required.
I expected he would laugh, or smile, or react somehow to my words.
"All right, then," he said indifferently.
He kissed my forehead again before he shut the door on me. Then he turned his back and lopedgracefully toward his car.
I was able to drive out of the parking lot before the panic really hit, but I was hyperventilating by the timeI got to Newton's.
He just needed time, I told myself. He would get over this. Maybe he was sad because his family wasdisappearing. But Alice and Jasper would come back soon, and Rosalie and Emmett, too. If it wouldhelp, I would stay away from the big white house on the river—I'd never set foot there again. That didn'tmatter. I'd still see Alice at school. She would have to come back for school, right? And she was at myplace all the time anyway. She wouldn't want to hurt Charlie's feelings by staying away.
No doubt I would also run into Carlisle with regularity—in the emergency room.
After all, what had happened last night was nothing. Nothing had happened. So I fell down—that wasthe story of my life. Compared to last spring, it seemed especially unimportant. James had left me brokenand nearly dead from loss of blood—and yet Edward had handled the interminable weeks in the hospitalmuch better than this. Was it because, this time, it wasn't an enemy he'd had to protect me from?
Because it was his brother?
Maybe it would be better if he took me away, rather than his family being scattered15. I grew slightly lessdepressed as I considered all the uninterrupted alone time. If he could just last through the school year,Charlie wouldn't be able to object. We could go away to college, or pretend that's what we were doing,like Rosalie and Emmett this year. Surely Edward could wait a year. What was a year to an immortal16? Itdidn't even seem like that much to me.
I was able to talk myself into enough composure to handle getting out of the truck and walking to thestore. Mike Newton had beaten me here today, and he smiled and waved when I came in. I grabbed myvest, nodding vaguely17 in his direction. I was still imagining pleasant scenarios18 that consisted of me runningaway with Edward to various exotic locales.
Mike interrupted my fantasy. "How was your birthday?""Ugh," I mumbled19. "I'm glad it's over."Mike looked at me from the corners of his eyes like I was crazy.
Work dragged. I wanted to see Edward again, praying that he would be past the worst of this, whateverit was exactly, by the time I saw him again. It's nothing, I told myself over and over again. Everything willgo back to normal.
The relief I felt when I turned onto my street and saw Edward's silver car parked in front of my housewas an overwhelming, heady thing. And it bothered me deeply that it should be that way.
I hurried through the front door, calling out before I was completely inside.
"Dad? Edward?"As I spoke20, I could hear the distinctive21 theme music from ESPN's SportsCenter coming from the livingroom.
"In here," Charlie called.
I hung my raincoat on its peg22 and hurried around the corner.
Edward was in the armchair, my father on the sofa. Both had their eyes trained on the TV. The focus wasnormal for my father. Not so much for Edward.
"Hi," I said weakly.
"Hey, Bella," my father answered, eyes never moving. "We just had cold pizza. I think it's still on thetable.""Okay."I waited in the doorway23. Finally, Edward looked over at me with a polite smile. "I'll be right behind you,"he promised. His eyes strayed back to the TV.
I stared for another minute, shocked. Neither one seemed to notice. I could feel something, panic maybe,building up in my chest. I escaped to the kitchen.
The pizza held no interest for me. I sat in my chair, pulled my knees up, and wrapped my arms aroundthem. Something was very wrong, maybe more wrong than I'd realized. The sounds of male bonding andbanter continued from the TV set.
I tried to get control of myself, to reason with myself.
What's the worst that can happen? I flinched24. That was definitely the wrong question to ask. I washaving a hard time breathing right.
Okay, I thought again, what's the worst I can live through? I didn't like that question so much, either.
But I thought through the possibilities I'd considered today.
Staying away from Edward's family. Of course, he wouldn't expect Alice to be part of that. But if Jasperwas off limits, that would lessen25 the time I could have with her. I nodded to myself—I could live withthat.
Or going away. Maybe he wouldn't want to wait till the end of the school year, maybe it would have tobe now.
In front of me, on the table, my presents from Charlie and Renee were where I had left them, the cameraI hadn't had the chance to use at the Cullens' sitting beside the album. I touched the pretty cover of thescrapbook my mother had given me, and sighed, thinking of Renee. Somehow, living without her for aslong as I had did not make the idea of a more permanent separation easier. And Charlie would be left allalone here, abandoned. They would both be so hurt…But we'd come back, right? We'd visit, of course, wouldn't we?
I couldn't be certain about the answer to that.
I leaned my cheek against my knee, staring at the physical tokens of my parents' love. I'd known this pathI'd chosen was going to be hard. And, after all, I was thinking about the worst-case scenario—the veryworst I could live through.
I touched the scrapbook again, flipping27 the front cover over. Little metal corners were already in place tohold the first picture. It wasn't a half-bad idea, to make some record of my life here. I felt a strange urgeto get started. Maybe I didn't have that long left in Forks.
I toyed with the wrist strap28 on the camera, wondering about the first picture on the roll. Could it possiblyturn out anything close to the original? I doubted it. But he didn't seem worried that it would be blank. Ichuckled to myself, thinking of his carefree laughter last night. The chuckle29 died away. So much hadchanged, and so abruptly30. It made me feel a little bit dizzy, like I was standing31 on an edge, a precipicesomewhere much too high.
I didn't want to think about that anymore. I grabbed the camera and headed up the stairs.
My room hadn't really changed all that much in the seventeen years since my mother had been here. Thewalls were still light blue, the same yellowed lace curtains hung in front of the window. There was a bed,rather than a crib, but she would recognize the quilt draped untidily over the top—it had been a gift ROMGran.
Regardless, I snapped a picture of my room. There wasn't much else I could do tonight—it was too darkoutside—and the feeling was growing stronger, it was almost a compulsion now. I would recordeverything about Forks before I had to leave it.
Change was coming. I could feel it. It wasn't a pleasant prospect32, not when life was perfect the way itwas.
I took my time coming back down the stairs, camera in hand, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I thought of the strange distance I didn't want to see in Edward's eyes. He would get overthis. Probably he was worried that I would be upset when he asked me to leave. I would let him workthrough it without meddling33. And I would be prepared when he asked.
I had the camera ready as I leaned around the corner, being sneaky. I was sure there was no chance thatI had caught Edward by surprise, but he didn't look up. I felt a brief shiver as something icy twisted in mystomach; I ignored that and took the picture.
They both looked at me then. Charlie frowned. Edward's face was empty, expressionless.
"What are you doing, Bella?" Charlie complained.
"Oh, come on." I pretended to smile as I went to sit on the floor in front of the sofa where Charlielounged. "You know Mom will be calling soon to ask if I'm using my presents. I have to get to workbefore she can get her feelings hurt.""Why are you taking pictures of me, though?" he grumbled34.
"Because you're so handsome," I replied, keeping it light. "And because, since you bought the camera,you're obligated to be one of my subjects."He mumbled something unintelligible36.
"Hey, Edward," I said with admirable indifference37. "Take one of me and my dad together."I threw the camera toward him, carefully avoiding his eyes, and knelt beside the arm of the sofa whereCharlie's face was. Charlie sighed.
"You need to smile, Bella," Edward murmured.
I did my best, and the camera flashed.
"Let me take one of you kids," Charlie suggested. I knew he was just trying to shift the camera's focusfromhimself.
Edward stood and lightly tossed him the camera.
I went to stand beside Edward, and the arrangement felt formal and strange to me. He put one handlightly on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm more securely around his waist. I wanted to look at hisface, but I was afraid to.
"Smile, Bella," Charlie reminded me again.
I took a deep breath and smiled. The flash blinded me.
"Enough pictures for tonight," Charlie said then, shoving the camera into a crevice38 of the sofa cushionsand rolling over it. "You don't have to use the whole roll now."Edward dropped his hand from my shoulder and twisted casually39 out of my arm. He sat back down inthe armchair.
I hesitated, and then went to sit against the sofa again. I was suddenly so frightened that my hands wereshaking. I pressed them into my stomach to hide them, put my chin on my knees and stared at the TVscreen in front of me, seeing nothing.
When the show ended, I hadn't moved an inch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward stand.
"I'd better get home," he said.
Charlie didn't look up from the commercial. "See ya."I got awkwardly to my feet—I was stiff from sitting so still—and followed Edward out the front door. Hewent straight to his car.
"Will you stay?" I asked, no hope in my voice.
I expected his answer, so it didn't hurt as much.
"Not tonight."I didn't ask for a reason.
He got in his car and drove away while I stood there, unmoving. I barely noticed that it was raining. Iwaited, without knowing what I waited for, until the door opened behind me.
"Bella, what are you doing?" Charlie asked, surprised to see me standing there alone and dripping.
"Nothing." I turned and trudged40 back to the house.
It was a long night, with little in the way of rest.
I got up as soon as there was a faint light outside my window. I dressed for school mechanically, waitingfor the clouds to brighten. When I had eaten a bowl of cereal, I decided41 that it was light enough forpictures. I took one of my truck, and then the front of the house. I turned and snapped a few of the forestby Charlie's house. Funny how it didn't seem sinister42 like it used to. I realized I would miss this—thegreen, the timelessness, the mystery of the woods. All of it.
I put the camera in my school bag before I left. I tried to concentrate on my new project rather than thefact that Edward apparently14 hadn't gotten over things during the night.
Along with the fear, I was beginning to feel impatience43. How long could this last?
It lasted through the morning. He walked silently beside me, never seeming to actually look at me. I triedto concentrate on my classes, but not even English could hold my attention. Mr. Berty had to repeat hisquestion about Lady Capulet twice before I realized he was talking to me. Edward whispered the correctanswer under his breath and then went back to ignoring me.
At lunch, the silence continued. I felt like I was going to start screaming at any moment, so, to distractmyself, I leaned across the table's invisible line and spoke to Jessica.
"Hey, Jess?""What's up, Bella?""Could you do me a favor?" I asked, reaching into my bag. "My mom wants me to get some pictures ofmy friends for a scrapbook. So, take some pictures of everybody, okay?"I handed her the camera.
"Sure," she said, grinning, and turned to snap a candid44 shot of Mike with his mouth full.
A predictable picture war ensued. I watched them hand the camera around the table, giggling45 and flirtingand complaining about being on film. It seemed strangely childish. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood fornormal human behavior today.
"Uh-oh," Jessica said apologetically as she returned the camera. "I think we used all your film.""That's okay. I think I already got pictures of everything else I needed."After school, Edward walked me back to the parking lot in silence. I had to work again, and for once, Iwas glad. Time with me obviously wasn't helping46 things. Maybe time alone would be better.
I dropped my film off at the Thriftway on my way to Newton's, and then picked up the developedpictures after work. At home, I said a brief hi to Charlie, grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen, andhurried up to my room with the envelope of photographs tucked under my arm.
I sat in the middle of my bed and opened the envelope with wary47 curiosity. Ridiculously, I still halfexpected the first print to be a blank.
When I pulled it out, I gasped48 aloud. Edward looked just as beautiful as he did in real life, staring at meout of the picture with the warm eyes I'd missed for the past few days. It was almost uncanny that anyonecould look so… so… beyond description. No thousand words could equal this picture.
I flipped49 through the rest of the stack quickly once, and then laid three of them out on the bed side byside.
The first was the picture of Edward in the kitchen, his warm eyes touched with tolerant amusement. Thesecond was Edward and Charlie, watching ESPN. The difference in Edward's expression was severe.
His eyes were careful here, reserved. Still breathtakingly beautiful, but his face was colder, more like asculpture, less alive.
The last was the picture of Edward and me standing awkwardly side by side. Edward's face was thesame as the last, cold and statue-like. But that wasn't the most troubling part of this photograph. Thecontrast between the two of us was painful. He looked like a god. I looked very average, even for ahuman, almost shamefully50 plain. I flipped the picture over with a feeling of disgust.
Instead of doing my homework, I stayed up to put my pictures into the album. With a ballpoint pen Iscrawled captions52 under all the pictures, the names and the dates. I got to the picture of Edward and me,and, without looking at it too long, I folded it in half and stuck it under the metal tab, Edward-side up.
When I was done, I stuffed the second set of prints in a fresh envelope and penned a long thank-youletter to Renee.
Edward still hadn't come over. I didn't want to admit that he was the reason I'd stayed up so late, but ofcourse he was. I tried to remember the last time he'd stayed away like this, without an excuse, a phonecall… He never had.
Again, I didn't sleep well.
School followed the silent, frustrating53, terrifying pattern of the last two days. I felt relief when I sawEdward waiting for me in the parking lot, but it faded quickly. He was no different, unless maybe moreremote.
It was hard to even remember the reason for all this mess. My birthday already felt like the distant past. Ifonly Alice would come back. Soon. Before this got any more out of hand.
But I couldn't count on that. I decided that, if I couldn't talk to him today, really talk, then I was going tosee Carlisle tomorrow. I had to do something.
After school, Edward and I were going to talk it out, I promised myself. I wasn't accepting any excuses.
He walked me to my truck, and I steeled myself to make my demands.
"Do you mind if I come over today?" he asked before we got to the truck, beating me to the punch.
"Of course not.""Now?" he asked again, opening my door for me.
"Sure," I kept my voice even, though I didn't like the urgency in his tone. "I was just going to drop a letterfor Renee in the mailbox on the way. I'll meet you there."He looked at the fat envelope on the passenger seat. Suddenly, he reached over me and snagged it.
"I'll do it," he said quietly. "And I'll still beat you there." He smiled my favorite crooked54 smile, but it waswrong. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Okay," I agreed, unable to smile back. He shut the door, and headed toward his car.
He did beat me home. He was parked in Charlie's spot when I pulled up in front of the house. That wasa bad sign. He didn't plan to stay, then. I shook my head and took a deep breath, trying to locate somecourage.
He got out of his car when I stepped out of the truck, and came to meet me. He reached to take mybook bag from me. That was normal. But he shoved it back onto the seat. That was not normal.
"Come for a walk with me," he suggested in an unemotional voice, taking my hand.
I didn't answer. I couldn't think of a way to protest, but I instantly knew that I wanted to. I didn't likethis. This is bad, this is very bad, the voice in my head repeated again and again.
But he didn't wait for an answer. He pulled me along toward the east side of the yard, where the forestencroached. I followed unwillingly55, trying to think through the panic. It was what I wanted, I remindedmyself. The chance to talk it all through. So why was the panic choking me?
We'd gone only a few steps into the trees when he stopped. We were barely on the trail—I could stillsee the house.
Some walk.
Edward leaned against a tree and stared at me, his expression unreadable.
"Okay, let's talk," I said. It sounded braver than it felt.
He took a deep breath.
"Bella, we're leaving."I took a deep breath, too. This was an acceptable option. I thought I was prepared. But I still had to ask.
"Why now? Another year—" "Bella, it's time. How much longer could we stay in Forks, after all? Carlisle can barely pass for thirty,and he's claiming thirty-three now. We'd have to start over soon regardless."His answer confused me. I thought the point of leaving was to let his family live in peace. Why did wehave to leave if they were going? I stared at him, trying to understand what he meant.
He stared back coldly.
With a roll of nausea56, I realized I'd misunderstood.
"When you say we—," I whispered.
"I mean my family and myself." Each word separate and distinct.
I shook my head back and forth57 mechanically, trying to clear it. He waited without any sign ofimpatience. It took a few minutes before I could speak.
"Okay," I said. "I'll come with you.""You can't, Bella. Where we're going… It's not the right place for you.""Where you are is the right place for me.""I'm no good for you, Bella.""Don't be ridiculous." I wanted to sound angry, but it just sounded like I was begging. "You're the verybest part of my life.""My world is not for you," he said grimly.
"What happened with Jasper—that was nothing, Edward! Nothing!""You're right," he agreed. "It was exactly what was to be expected.""You promised! In Phoenix58, you promised that you would stay—""As long as that was best for you," he interrupted to correct me.
"No! This is about my soul, isn't it?" I shouted, furious, the words exploding out of me—somehow it stillsounded like a plea. "Carlisle told me about that, and I don't care, Edward. I don't care! You can havemy soul. I don't want it without you—it's yours already!"He took a deep breath and stared, unseeingly, at the ground for a long moment. His mouth twisted thetiniest bit. When he finally looked up, his eyes were different, harder—like the liquid gold had frozensolid.
"Bella, I don't want you to come with me." He spoke the words slowly and precisely59, his cold eyes onmy face, watching as I absorbed what he was really saying.
There was a pause as I repeated the words in my head a few times, sifting60 through them for their realintent.
"You… don't… want me?" I tried out the words, confused by the way they sounded, placed in thatorder.
"No." I stared, uncomprehending, into his eyes. He stared back without apology. His eyes were liketopaz—hard and clear and very deep. I felt like I could see into them for miles and miles, yet nowhere inrheir bottomless depths could I see a contradiction to the word he'd spoken.
"Well, that changes things." I was surprised by how calm and reasonable my voice sounded. It must bebecause I was so numb61. I couldn't realize what he was telling me. It still didn't make any sense.
He looked away into the trees as he spoke again. "Of course, I'll always love you… in a way. But whathappened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change. Because I'm… tired of pretendingto be something I'm not, Bella. I am not human." He looked back, and the icy planes of his perfect facewere not human. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that.""Don't." My voice was just a whisper now; awareness62 was beginning to seep63 through me, trickling64 likeacid through my veins65. "Don't do this."He just stared at me, and I could see from his eyes that my words were far too late. He already had.
"You're not good for me, Bella." He turned his earlier words around, and so I had no argument. Howwell I knew that I wasn't good enough for him.
I opened my mouth to say something, and then closed it again. He waited patiently, his face wiped cleanof all emotion. I tried again.
"If… that's what you want."He nodded once.
My whole body went numb. I couldn't feel anything below the neck.
"I would like to ask one favor, though, if that's not too much," he said.
I wonder what he saw on my face, because something flickered66 across his own face in response. But,before I could identify it, he'd composed his features into the same serene67 mask.
"Anything," I vowed68, my voice faintly stronger.
As I watched, his frozen eyes melted. The gold became liquid again, molten, burning down into mine withan intensity that was overwhelming.
"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," he ordered, no longer detached. "Do you understand what I'msaying?"I nodded helplessly.
His eyes cooled, the distance returned. "I'm thinking of Charlie, of course. He needs you. Take care ofyourself—for him."I nodded again. "I will," I whispered.
He seemed to relax just a little.
"And I'll make you a promise in return," he said. "I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. Iwon't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life withoutany more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed." My knees must have started to shake, because the trees were suddenly wobbling. I could hear the bloodpounding faster than normal behind my ears. His voice sounded farther away.
He smiled gently. "Don't worry. You're human—your memory is no more than a sieve69. Time heals allwounds for your kind.""And your memories?" I asked. It sounded like there was something stuck in my throat, like I waschoking.
"Well"—he hesitated for a short second—"I won't forget. But my kind… we're very easily distracted."He smiled; the smile was tranquil70 and it did not touch his eyes.
He took a step away from me. "That's everything, I suppose. We won't bother you again."The plural71 caught my attention. That surprised me; I would have thought I was beyond noticing anything.
"Alice isn't coming back," I realized. I don't know how he heard me—the words made no sound—but heseemed to understand.
He shook his head slowly, always watching my face.
"No. They're all gone. I staved behind to tell you goodbye.""Alice is gone?" My voice was blank with disbelief.
"She wanted to say goodbye, but I convinced her that a clean break would be better for you."I was dizzy; it was hard to concentrate. His words swirled73 around in my head, and I heard the doctor atthe hospital in Phoenix, last spring, as he showed me the X-rays. You can see it's a clean break, hisfinger traced along the picture of my severed74 bone. That's good. It will heal more easily, more quickly.
I tried to breathe normally. I needed to concentrate, to find a way out of this nightmare.
"Goodbye, Bella," he said in the same quiet, peaceful voice.
"Wait!" I choked out the word, reaching for him, willing my deadened legs to carry me forward.
I thought he was reaching for me, too. But his cold hands locked around my wrists and pinned them tomy sides. He leaned down, and pressed his lips very lightly to my forehead for the briefest instant. Myeyes closed.
"Take care of yourself," he breathed, cool against my skin.
There was a light, unnatural75 breeze. My eyes flashed open. The leaves on a small vine maple76 shudderedwith the gentle wind of his passage.
He was gone.
With shaky legs, ignoring the fact that my action was useless, I followed him into the forest. The evidenceof his path had disappeared instantly. There were no footprints, the leaves were still again, but I walkedforward without thinking. I could not do anything else. I had to keep moving. If I stopped looking forhim, it was over.
Love, life, meaning… over.
I walked and walked. Time made no sense as I pushed slowly through the thick undergrowth. It washours passing, but also only seconds. Maybe it felt like time had frozen because the forest looked thesame no matter how far I went. I started to worry that I was traveling in a circle, a very small circle atthat, but I kept going. I stumbled often, and, as it grew darker and darker, I fell often, too.
Finally, I tripped over something—it was black now, I had no idea what caught my foot—and I stayeddown. I rolled onto my side, so that I could breathe, and curled up on the wet bracken.
As I lay there, I had a feeling that more time was passing than I realized. I couldn't remember how long ithad been since nightfall. Was it always so dark here at night? Surely, as a rule, some little bit of moonlightwould filter down through the clouds, through the chinks in the canopy77 of trees, and find the ground.
Not tonight. Tonight the sky was utterly78 black. Perhaps there was no moon tonight—a lunar eclipse, anew moon.
A new moon. I shivered, though I wasn't cold.
It was black for a long time before I heard them calling.
Someone was shouting my name. It was muted, muffled79 by the wet growth that surrounded me, but itwas definitely my name. I didn't recognize the voice. I thought about answering, but I was dazed, and ittook a long time to come to the conclusion that I should answer. By then, the calling had stopped.
Sometime later, the rain woke me up. I don't think I'd really fallen asleep; I was just lost in an unthinkingstupor, holding with all my strength to the numbness80 that kept me from realizing what I didn't want toknow.
The rain bothered me a little. It was cold. I unwrapped my arms from around my legs to cover my face.
It was then that I heard the calling again. It was farther away this time, and sometimes it sounded likeseveral voices were calling at once. I tried to breathe deeply. I remembered that I should answer, but Ididn't think they would be able to hear me. Would I be able to shout loud enough?
Suddenly, there was another sound, startlingly close. A kind of snuffling, an animal sound. It sounded big.
I wondered if I should feel afraid. I didn't—just numb. It didn't matter. The snuffling went away.
The rain continued, and I could feel the water pooling up against my cheek. I was trying to gather thestrength to turn my head when I saw the light.
At first it was just a dim glow reflecting off the bushes in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter,illuminating a large space unlike the focused beam of a flashlight. The light broke through the closestbrush, and I could see that it was a propane lantern, but that was all I could see—the brightness blindedme for a moment.
"Bella."The voice was deep and unfamiliar81, but full of recognition. He wasn't calling my name to search, he wasacknowledging that I was found.
I stared up—impossibly high it seemed—at the dark face that I could now see above me. I was vaguelyaware that the stranger probably only looked so tall because my head was still on the ground.
"Have you been hurt?" I knew the words meant something, but I could only stare, bewildered. How could the meaning matter atthis point?
"Bella, my name is Sam Uley."There was nothing familiar about his name.
"Charlie sent me to look for you."Charlie? That struck a chord, and I tried to pay more attention to what he was saying. Charlie mattered,if nothing else did.
The tall man held out a hand. I gazed at it, not sure what I was supposed to do.
His black eyes appraised82 me for a second, and then he shrugged. In a quick and supple83 notion, he pulledme up from the ground and into his arms.
I hung there, limp, as he loped swiftly through the wet forest. Some part of me knew this should upsetme—being carried away by a stranger. But there was nothing left in me to upset.
It didn't seem like too much time passed before there were lights and the deep babble84 of many malevoices. Sam Uley slowed as he approached the commotion85.
"I've got her!" he called in a booming voice.
The babble ceased, and then picked up again with more intensity. A confusing swirl72 of faces moved overme. Sam's voice was the only one that made sense in the chaos86, perhaps because my ear was against hischest.
"No, I don't think she's hurt," he told someone. "She just keeps saying 'He's gone.' "Was I saying that out loud? I bit down on my lip.
"Bella, honey, are you all right?"That was one voice I would know anywhere—even distorted, as it was now, with worry.
"Charlie?" My voice sounded strange and small.
"I'm right here, baby."There was a shifting under me, followed by the leathery smell of my dad's sheriff jacket. Charliestaggered under my weight.
"Maybe I should hold on to her," Sam Uley suggested.
"I've got her," Charlie said, a little breathless.
He walked slowly, struggling. I wished I could tell him to put me down and let me walk, but I couldn'tfind my voice.
There were lights everywhere, held by the crowd walking with him. It felt like a parade. Or a funeralprocession. I closed my eyes.
"We're almost home now, honey," Charlie mumbled now and then.
I opened my eyes again when I heard the door unlock. We were on the porch of our house, and the talldark man named Sam was holding the door for Charlie, one arm extended toward us, as if he waspreparing to catch me when Charlie's arms failed.
But Charlie managed to get me through the door and to the couch in the living room.
"Dad, I'm all wet," I objected feebly.
"That doesn't matter." His voice was gruff. And then he was talking to someone else. "Blankets are in thecupboard at the top of the stairs.""Bella?" a new voice asked. I looked at the gray-haired man leaning over me, and recognition came aftera few slow seconds.
"Dr. Gerandy?" I mumbled.
"That's right, dear," he said. "Are you hurt, Bella?"It took me a minute to think that through. I was confused by the memory of Sam Uley's similar questionin the woods. Only Sam had asked something else: Have you been hurt? he'd said. The differenceseemed significant somehow.
Dr. Gerandy was waiting. One grizzled eyebrow87 rose, and the wrinkles on his forehead deepened.
"I'm not hurt," I lied. The words, were true enough for what he'd asked.
His warm hand touched my forehead, and his fingers pressed against the inside of my wrist. I watched hislips as he counted to himself, his eyes on his watch.
"What happened to you?" he asked casually.
I froze under his hand, tasting panic in the back of my throat.
"Did you get lost in the woods?" he prodded88. I was aware of several other people listening. Three tallmen with dark faces—from La Push, the Quileute Indian reservation down on the coastline, Iguessed—Sam Uley among them, were standing very close together and staring at me. Mr. Newton wasthere with Mike and Mr. Weber, Angela's father; they all were watching me more surreptitiously than thestrangers. Other deep voices rumbled35 from the kitchen and outside the front door. Half the town musthave been looking for me.
Charlie was the closest. He leaned in to hear my answer.
"Yes," I whispered. "I got lost."The doctor nodded, thoughtful, his fingers probing gently against the glands89 under my jaw90. Charlie's facehardened.
"Do you feel tired?" Dr. Gerandy asked.
I nodded and closed my eyes obediently.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with her," I heard the doctor mutter to Charlie after a moment. "Justexhaustion. Let her sleep it off, and I'll come check on her tomorrow," he paused. He must have lookedat his watch, because he added, "Well, later today actually." There was a creaking sound as they both pushed off from the couch to get to their feet.
"Is it true?" Charlie whispered. Their voices were farther away now. I strained to hear. "Did they leave?""Dr. Cullen asked us not to say anything," Dr. Gerandy answered. "The offer was very sudden; they hadto choose immediately. Carlisle didn't want to make a big production out of leaving.""A little warning might have been nice," Charlie grumbled.
Dr. Gerandy sounded uncomfortable when he replied. "Yes, well, in this situation, some warning mighthave been called for."I didn't want to listen anymore. I felt around for the edge of the quilt someone had laid on top of me, andpulled it over my ear.
I drifted in and out of alertness. I heard Charlie whisper thanks to the volunteers as, one by one, they left.
I felt his fingers on my forehead, and then the weight of another blanket. The phone rang a few times, andhe hurried to catch it before it could wake me. He muttered reassurances91 in a low voice to the callers.
"Yeah, we found her. She's okay. She got lost. She's fine now," he said again and again.
I heard the springs in the armchair groan92 when he settled himself in for the night.
A few minutes later, the phone rang again.
Charlie moaned as he struggled to his feet, and then he rushed, stumbling, to the kitchen I pulled my headdeeper under the blankets, not wanting to listen to the same conversation again.
"Yeah," Charlie said, and yawned.
His voice changed, it was much more alert when he spoke again. "Where?'" There was a pause. "You'resure it's outside the reservation?" Another short pause. "But what could be burning out there?" Hesounded both worried and mystified. "Look, I'll call down there and check it out."I listened with more interest as he punched in a number.
"Hey, Billy, it's Charlie—sorry I'm calling so early… no, she's fine. She's sleeping… Thanks, but that'snot why I called. I just got a call from Mrs. Stanley, and she says that from her second-story window shecan see fires out on the sea cliffs, but I didn't really… Oh!" Suddenly there was an edge in hisvoice—irritation… or anger. "And why are they doing that? Uh huh. Really?" He said it sarcastically93.
"Well, don't apologize to me. Yeah, yeah. Just make sure the flames don't spread… I know, I know, I'msurprised they got them lit at all in this weather."Charlie hesitated, and then added grudgingly94. "Thanks for sending Sam and the other boys up. You wereright—they do know the forest better than we do. It was Sam who found her, so I owe you one… Yeah,I'll talk to you later," he agreed, still sour, before hanging up.
Charlie muttered something incoherent as he shuffled95 back to the living room.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He hurried to my side.
"I'm sorry I woke you, honey." "Is something burning?""It's nothing," he assured me. "Just some bonfires out on the cliffs.""Bonfires?" I asked. My voice didn't sound curious. It sounded dead.
Charlie frowned. "Some of the kids from the reservation being rowdy," he explained.
"Why?" I wondered dully.
I could tell he didn't want to answer. He looked at the floor under his knees. "They're celebrating thenews." His tone was bitter.
There was only one piece of news I could think of, try as I might not to. And then the pieces snappedtogether. "Because the Cullens left," I whispered. "They don't like the Cullens in La Push—I'd forgottenabout that."The Quileutes had their superstitions96 about the "cold ones," the blood-drinkers that were enemies to theirtribe, just like they had their legends of the great flood and wolf-men ancestors. Just stories, folklore97, tomost of them. Then there were the few that believed. Charlie's good friend Billy Black believed, thougheven Jacob, his own son, thought he was full of stupid superstitions. Billy had warned me to stay awayfrom the Cullens…The name stirred something inside me, something that began to claw its way toward the surface,something I knew I didn't want to face.
"It's ridiculous," Charlie spluttered.
We sat in silence for a moment. The sky was no longer black outside the window. Somewhere behindthe rain, the sun was beginning to rise.
"Bella?" Charlie asked.
I looked at him uneasily.
"He left you alone in the woods?" Charlie guessed.
I deflected98 his question. "How did you know where to find me?" My mind shied away from the inevitableawareness that was coming, coming quickly now.
"Your note," Charlie answered. surprised. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out amuch-abused piece of paper. It was dirty and damp, with multiple creases99 from being opened andrefolded many times. He unfolded it again, and held it up as evidence. The messy handwriting wasremarkably close to my own.
Going for a walk with Edward, up the path, it said. Back soon, B.
"When you didn't come back, I called the Cullens, and no one answered," Charlie said in a low voice.
"Then I called the hospital, and Dr. Gerandy told me that Carlisle was gone.""Where did they go?" I mumbled.
He stared at me. "Didn't Edward tell you?"I shook my head, recoiling100. The sound of his name unleashed101 the thing that was clawing inside of me—a pain that knocked me breathless, astonished me with its force.
Charlie eyed me doubtfully as he answered. "Carlisle took a job with a big hospital in Los Angeles. Iguess they threw a lot of money at him."Sunny L.A. The last place they would really go. I remembered my nightmare with the mirror… the brightsunlight shimmering102 off of his skin—Agony ripped through me with the memory of his face.
"I want to know if Edward left you alone out there in the middle of the woods," Charlie insisted.
His name sent another wave of torture through me. I shook my head, frantic103, desperate to escape thepain. "It was my fault. He left me right here on the trail, in sight of the house… but I tried to follow him."Charlie started to say something; childishly, I covered my ears. "I can't talk about this anymore, Dad. Iwant to go to my room."Before he could answer, I scrambled104 up from the couch and lurched my way up the stairs.
Someone had been in the house to leave a note for Charlie, a note that would lead him to find me. Fromthe minute that I'd realized this, a horrible suspicion began to grow in my head. I rushed to my room,shutting and locking the door behind me before I ran to the CD player by my bed.
Everything looked exactly the same as I'd left it. I pressed down on the top of the CD player. The latchunhooked, and the lid slowly swung open.
It was empty.
The album Renee had given me sat on the floor beside the bed, just where I'd put it last. I lifted the coverwith a shaking hand.
I didn't have to flip26 any farther than the first page. The little metal corners no longer held a picture inplace. The page was blank except for my own handwriting scrawled51 across the bottom: Edward Cullen,Charlie's kitchen, Sept. 13th.
I stopped there. I was sure that he would have been very thorough.
It will be as if I'd never existed, he'd promised me.
I felt the smooth wooden floor beneath my knees, and then the palms of my hands, and then it waspressed against the skin of my cheek. I hoped that I was fainting, but, to my disappointment, I didn't loseconsciousness. The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washedover my head, pulling me under.
I did not resurface.
3. 结束
早上起床后我感到非常恐惧。我没睡好；我的胳膊疼痛难忍，头也疼得厉害。爱德华迅速地亲了一下我的额头，蹲下身从窗户跳了出去，他光滑的脸庞，疏远的表情对我的心情没有丝毫帮助。想到我睡着后毫无意识的那段时间就令我感到害怕，我担心当他注视着我睡着的时候，又会思考对与错的问题。焦虑似乎加剧了头部由于悸动引起的疼痛，这种感觉越来越强烈了。
爱德华和往常一样在学校等我，但是他的表情还是有问题。他的眼睛里深藏着某种我不确定的东西——这令我惊恐万分。我不想提起昨天晚上的事情，但是我不确定逃避这个话题是否会更糟糕。
他为我打开了车门。
"你感觉怎么样？"
"非常好。" 我撒谎道，车门关上时发出"嘭"的声音在我的脑袋里回荡，让人感到厌烦不堪。
我们默不作声地走着，他放慢步伐跟上我的节拍。我有那么多问题想要问，但是大多数问题还要再等一等，因为那些问题是我想问爱丽丝的：贾斯帕今天早上怎么样了？我走之后他们都说了些什么？罗莎莉说了什么？最重要的事，通过她对未来奇异却不完美的预见中看到了什么？她能猜到爱德华在想什么吗？他为什么这样闷闷不乐？那种我似乎无法抗拒的毫无根据、本能的恐惧有没有理由？
早晨过得很慢。我迫不及待地想见到爱丽丝，尽管爱德华在场的时候我可能没法真正地和她交谈。爱德华仍然很冷漠，他时不时地会问问我的胳膊，然后我会骗他说没事儿。
爱丽丝平常总是比我们先来吃午饭；她不必像我这样懒散。但是她没坐在餐桌上，把她不会吃的一盘食物放在一边，等我们。
爱丽丝没有来，但爱德华对此什么也没说。我暗想是不是她下课晚了——直到我看见康纳和本，他们俩和爱丽丝一起上第四节法语课。
"爱丽丝去哪儿了？"我焦急地问爱德华。
他一边回答，一边看着在他指尖慢慢碾碎的格兰诺拉麦片 ："她和贾斯帕在一起。"
"他还好吗？"
"他会离开一段时间。"
"什么？去哪里？"
我原本以为他会大笑起来，或者微笑起来，或者至少对我的话有点儿反应。
“那么，好吧。”他冷漠地说道。
我上车后他为我关上门之前，吻了我的额头，接着他转过身，优雅地朝他的车慢跑过去。
在惊慌失措之前，我尚能把车开出停车场，但是，还没到牛顿户外用品商店我就已经在用力地呼吸了。
他只是需要时间，我告诉自己。他会渡过这次难关的。或许他难过是因为他的家人要离开了。但是爱丽丝和贾斯帕不久就会回来的，罗莎莉和埃美特也会回来的。要是对这种情况有所帮助的话，我会离河边那幢白色的大房子远远的——我再也不会踏上那片土地。那没关系。我在学校还能见到爱丽丝，她还会回到学校的，对吗？不管怎么样，她都是站在我这边的。她不会想要通过离家出走来伤害卡莱尔的。
毫无疑问，我也会定期地去看看卡莱尔——不过，是在急救室里。
毕竟，昨天晚上发生的事情没什么大不了。什么也没发生。想到这些接着我就倒了下来——那是我的生活。与去年春天相比，这些看起来似乎尤其不重要。詹姆斯使我遍体鳞伤，由于失血过多几乎死去——然而，爱德华在医院里陪伴我度过了漫长的几个星期，他做得比这次好很多。是不是因为，这一次，他保护我不受伤害，对象不是敌人？因为这一次是他的兄弟？
如果他带我走，而不是让他的家人四分五裂，这样或许会更好。当我想到所有这一切不被打扰的独处时光时，我的心情稍微好了一些，不那么压抑了。只要他能够渡过这一学年，查理就不会反对。我们可以离开这里一起去上大学，或者假装我们一起去上大学，就像今年罗莎莉和埃美特的一样。爱德华肯定得等一年。一年对永生不死的人而言算得了什么呢？一年对我而言似乎也没什么大不了的。
我劝服自己保持足够的冷静，勉强下车，走进商店。迈克?牛顿今天比我早到，我进门的时候他微笑着冲我挥了挥手。我一把拉过我的工作服，应付地朝他的方向点了点头。我仍然在想象那种美好的情景，我和爱德华一起私奔到各种各样的异域他乡。
迈克打断了我的幻想：“你的生日过得怎么样？”
“呃，”我低声说道，“我很高兴生日过完了。”
迈克从眼角看着我，好像我疯了似的。
店里的工作慢吞吞的。我想再见到爱德华，祈祷在我再次见到他之前，他会渡过最困难的时刻，确切地说，不管到底该如何精确地表述那种情况。这没什么大不了的，我一次又一次地告诉自己。一切都会恢复正常的。
当我驱车上路，看到爱德华银色的车停在我家门口时，我感到一阵欣慰，那种感觉那么强烈，那么无法抗拒，但是这样的方式又深深地令我心烦意乱。
我匆忙地跑过前门，还没进门就大声喊了起来。
“爸爸？爱德华？”
我喊的时候，客厅里传来的娱乐体育节目网 体育中心风格独特的主题音乐。
“在这里。”查理叫道。
我把雨衣挂在钩子上，顺着屋角跑了过来。
爱德华坐在扶手椅子里，查理坐在沙发上。他们两个人的眼睛都盯着电视。这种聚精会神对我爸爸而言是很正常的，但对爱德华而言就不那么正常了。
“嗨。”我虚弱地跟他们打招呼。
“嘿，贝拉，”查理眼睛一动不动地回答道，“我们刚吃了一只冷馅饼，我想它还在桌子上。”
“好吧。”
我在门口等着。最后爱德华转向我，朝我礼貌地笑了笑，“我马上跟过来。”他答应道。他的眼神又飘忽到电视上去了。
我注视了一会，惊呆了。他们两个人都没有注意到。我能觉察到某种感觉，或许是恐慌，在我胸口越来越强烈。我逃进了厨房。
馅饼对我毫无吸引力，我坐在椅子上，蜷起膝盖，用胳膊环抱着它们。有什么东西让我感到非常不对头，或许比我意识到得更加不对劲儿。男人之间特有的亲密和互相捉弄的声音不断地从电视机里传过来。
我努力控制自己，让自己保持理智。可能会发生的最糟糕的事情会是什么呢？我退缩了，那肯定是问错了问题，此刻，我连呼吸都有些困难了。
好吧，我又想到，我能忍受的最糟糕的事情是什么呢？我也不那么喜欢这样的问题。但是我详细地思考了今天我想到的一切可能性。
远离爱德华的家人。当然了，他不希望把爱丽丝也包括在内。要是连贾斯帕都在禁区之内的话，那么我和她在一起的时间就会减少。我对自己点点头——我能忍受这样的事情。
或者离开这里。也许他不想等到学年结束，也许现在就得离开。
在我面前，桌子上面摆着查理和蕾妮送给我的礼物，它们放在我原来放的位置，摆在相册旁边的是我在卡伦家没机会使用的照相机。我摸了摸妈妈给我的剪贴簿的精美封面，叹了口气，想起了蕾妮。从某种程度上而言，很久以来我就过着没有她的生活，但这一事实并没有使永远分别的想法更易于接受；而查理就会被独自留在这里，被我们抛弃了。他们两个人都会受到很大的伤害……
但是我们会回来的，不是吗？我们会回来看他们的，当然了，不是吗？
我对这个问题的答案不是很确定。
我把脸颊贴在膝盖上，盯着我父母对我的爱的有形象征。我知道我选择的这条路会很艰辛，毕竟，我现在想的是最糟糕的情况——我能忍受的最糟糕的情况。
我又摸了摸剪贴簿， 翻开扉页。在小小的金属边里面已经卡住了第一张照片。一分为二来看这个礼物，记录我在这里的生活，这个主意倒不是那么差。我感到一阵奇怪的冲动要着手进行此事了。或许，我在福克斯剩下的时间也没那么多了。
我把拨弄着照相机上的腕带，对胶卷里的第一张照片倍感好奇。照出来的照片可能会接近原物吗？我怀疑，但是他似乎并不担心照片上空无一物。我对自己轻轻地笑了笑，想到昨天晚上他漫不经心的笑容。轻声的微笑渐渐减弱了。发生了那么大的变化，多么地意想不到啊！这让我感到有点儿眩晕，好像我站在边缘上，在某个很高很高的悬崖边缘上一样。
我不想再去想那些了，一把抓住照相机，朝楼梯走去。
距离我妈妈住在这里的时候已经有十七年了，这么多年以来，我的房间并没有发生多么大的变化。墙壁仍然是淡蓝色，窗前悬挂的是同样的黄色蕾丝窗帘。那儿有张床，但不是婴儿床，不过她会认出那张凌乱地从床上垂下来的被子的——那是祖母给我的礼物。
我随兴地拍了一张我房间的照片。今晚我没法给其它的东西拍照——外面太黑了——而且，这种感觉变得更加强烈了，几乎变成一种冲动。在我离开福克斯以前，我要记录下和这里有关的一切。
变化就在发生，我能感觉到，前景并不乐观，当生活还是跟往常完全一样的时候，更是如此。
我不急不徐地回到楼下，手里拿着照相机，爱德华眼睛里那种奇怪的距离是我不想看到的，一想到这就会让我害怕得发抖，我努力忽视这种感觉的存在。他会克服的，也许他只是在担心当他要我离开的时候我会难过。我会让他解决好这一切而不让他为难的，而且，在他提出来的时候我就会准备好的。
我偷偷地斜靠在屋角，调整好相机，确信爱德华没机会感到惊讶，但是他没有抬头看我。我感到心中一阵冰凉，不禁颤抖了一下；我没去理睬心中的感觉，照了张照片。
就在那一刻他们俩同时看着我，查理皱着眉头，而爱德华则神色空洞，面无表情。
“你在干什么，贝拉？”查理不高兴地问道。
“ 噢，来吧，”我走过去坐在沙发上，查理懒洋洋地躺在那里，假装微笑着说，“你知道妈妈很快就会打电话来问我是否在用她送给我的礼物了。在她没感到受伤之前我得先做起来。”
“但是，你为什么要给我照相呢？”他嘟囔着说。
“因为你那么帅，”我保持着轻松的口吻回答道，“还因为，既然是你给我买的照相机，你就有义务成为我的主题之一。”
他嘴巴里嘟哝着我听不清楚的话语。
“嗨，爱德华，”我带着令人惊讶的冷漠口吻说道，“给我和爸爸照张合影吧。”
我把相机朝他扔过去，小心翼翼地避开他的眼睛，查理的脸靠在沙发的扶手边上，我在那里跪了下来。查理叹了叹气。
“你要笑一笑，贝拉。”爱德华低声说道。
我竭尽全力笑了笑，照相机的闪光灯闪了一下。
“我来给你们两个孩子照一张吧。”查利建议道。我知道他只是想把照相机的焦点从他身上移走。
爱德华站着，轻松地把照相机抛给他。
我跑过去站在爱德华旁边，觉得这种安排很正式，也很奇怪——他轻轻地把一只手搭在我的肩膀上，我则更坚定地用胳膊环抱着他的腰。我想看着他的脸，但我不敢。
“笑一笑，贝拉。”查理再次提醒我。
我深吸了一口气，微笑起来，闪光灯让我什么也看不见。
“今晚照的照片够多了，”查理一边说一边把照相机塞进沙发靠垫之间的缝隙里，他在照相机上翻了个身，“你现在没必要把整卷胶卷用完。”
爱德华把他的手从我肩上放下来，不经意地扭出我的怀抱，重新坐进扶手椅里。
我犹豫了一下，接着走过去背靠着沙发坐了下来。我突然感到如此恐惧，双手开始颤抖起来。我用手按着肚子，把它们藏起来，我把下巴靠在膝盖上，盯着面前的电视机屏幕，但却什么也看没见。
节目放完的时候，我一动也不动。我从眼角看到爱德华站起身来。
“我要回家了。”他说道。
查理低头看着广告，头抬也没抬地回答说：“好的。”
我笨拙地站了起来，跟着爱德华从大门走出来——就这样一动不动地坐了那么久，我的手脚都僵硬了。他径直走向他的车。
“你会留下来吗？”我问道，声音里不带一丝希望。
我期待着他的回答，这样就不会那么受伤害了。
“今晚不了。”
我没有追问原因。
他上车开走以后，我仍站在那里，一动不动。我几乎没有注意到下雨了，我等待着，不知道自己到底在等待什么，直到门在我身后打开了。
“贝拉，你在干什么？”查理问道，他吃惊地看见我满身滴着雨水，一个人站在那里。
“没什么。”我转过身，拖着沉重的步伐走回屋里。
这是漫长的一夜，我几乎没有休息。
窗外一出现朦胧的阳光我就起床了。我机械地穿上衣服，准备上学，等待着乌云散去，天气晴朗起来。我吃完一碗麦片后确定光线很充分，可以照相了。我先给我的卡车照了一张，接着是房屋的正面。我转过身，给查理房屋附近的森林照了几张。有趣的是，这片森林一点也不像先前那么险恶了。我意识到我会想念——这片郁郁葱葱，青翠的小树林的，时间在这里停滞了，周遭充满着神秘的气息，我会怀念这里的一切的。
出门之前我把相机放在书包里，我努力把注意力集中在我的新课题上而不去想昨天晚上的事情——爱德华显然并没有恢复常态。
焦躁不安的感觉伴随着恐惧开始倾袭着我，这样会持续多久？
整整一个上午还是这样，他静静地在我身边走着，似乎从来都没有看我一眼。我努力地集中精神上课，但是就连英语课也没能抓住我的注意力。贝尔蒂先生把关于凯普莱特夫人 的问题重复了两遍我才意识到他在跟我讲话。爱德华用耳语告诉我正确答案，接着又忽略了我的存在。
在吃午饭的时候，沉默仍在继续。我感到自己随时就要开始尖叫了，然后，为了分散注意力，我倾斜着身体，跨过了那条看不见的分界线，与杰西卡说起话来。
“嗨，杰西？”
“什么事，贝拉？”
“你能帮我个忙吗？”我把手伸到书包里，问道，“我妈妈要我给我的朋友们照几张照片，贴在剪贴簿上，这样吧，你能帮我给每个人照张相吗？”
我把照相机递给她。
“当然可以啦。”她咧开嘴巴笑了起来，接着就偷拍下迈克满嘴是饭的镜头。
和我预料的一样，相片大战开始了。我看着他们把照相机从餐桌上传过来传过去，咯咯地笑着，摇晃着，抱怨着被拍到了。奇怪的是，这一切似乎很孩子气。也许我今天的情绪不是正常的人类该有的。
“噢-哦，”杰西卡把照相机还给我的时候抱歉地说，“我想我们把你的胶卷用完了。”
“没关系，我想我已经拍好我需要的其它东西的照片了。”
放学后，爱德华默默地送我到停车场。我今天要打工，这一次，我感到很高兴。爱德华与我在一起的时光显然无济于事，或许他独自一个人会更好。
我在去牛顿户外用品商店的路上把胶卷放在了施利福特威超市，然后在下班的路上取了照片。回到家，我简单地跟查理说了“嗨”就从厨房里拿了根格兰诺拉麦片，腋下藏着装着照片的信封匆匆地跑进楼上我的房间。
我坐在床中间，大声地喘着气。照片中的爱德华和他在现实生活中一样漂亮，照片中的他含情脉脉地凝视着我，过去几天他从没这样地看过我。 有人能如此……如此……美得难以形容，这几乎是种神秘的事情，千言万语也比不上这张照片。
我立即快速地翻动着这堆照片，接着把其中的三张并排铺在床上。
第一张是爱德华在厨房，他的眼睛流露出宽容，逗乐的表情。第二张是爱德华和查理一起在看娱乐体育节目网节目，不同的是爱德华的神情严肃，这张照片里的他，眼神警惕而矜持。不过他还是那么惊人的美丽，但是他的脸色更冷漠，更像一尊雕像，更缺少生机。
最后一张是爱德华和我并排站在一起的照片，看起来有些笨拙。爱德华的脸色和上一张一样冷漠，像雕像一般。但是那不是这张照片最令人不安的地方，两个人之间的对比令人痛苦，他看起来像神
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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tenuous
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| adj.细薄的，稀薄的，空洞的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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sloth
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| n.[动]树懒；懒惰，懒散 | |
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pulverizing
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| v.将…弄碎( pulverize的现在分词 )；将…弄成粉末或尘埃；摧毁；粉碎 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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scenarios
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| n.[意]情节；剧本；事态；脚本 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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26
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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29
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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38
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
captions
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| n.标题，说明文字，字幕( caption的名词复数 )v.给（图片、照片等）加说明文字( caption的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
frustrating
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| adj.产生挫折的，使人沮丧的，令人泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的现在分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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54
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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57
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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60
sifting
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| n.筛，过滤v.筛( sift的现在分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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61
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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62
awareness
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| n.意识，觉悟，懂事，明智 | |
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63
seep
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| v.渗出，渗漏；n.渗漏，小泉，水（油）坑 | |
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64
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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65
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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66
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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68
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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69
sieve
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| n.筛，滤器，漏勺 | |
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70
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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71
plural
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| n.复数；复数形式；adj.复数的 | |
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72
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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73
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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75
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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76
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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77
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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78
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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79
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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80
numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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81
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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82
appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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83
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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84
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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85
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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86
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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87
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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88
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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89
glands
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| n.腺( gland的名词复数 ) | |
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90
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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91
reassurances
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| n.消除恐惧或疑虑( reassurance的名词复数 )；恢复信心；使人消除恐惧或疑虑的事物；使人恢复信心的事物 | |
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92
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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93
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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94
grudgingly
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95
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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96
superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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97
folklore
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| n.民间信仰，民间传说，民俗 | |
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98
deflected
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| 偏离的 | |
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99
creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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100
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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101
unleashed
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| v.把（感情、力量等）释放出来，发泄( unleash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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103
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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104
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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