Chapter Text
“’We can never go back again, that much is certain.’” Edward read aloud. His voice was strong and quiet against the sound of the wind. It was a rare, cold day, as they veered towards the end of March, and Becca was laying on top of a towel with a blanket around her. “’The past is still too close to us. The things we have tried to forget and put behind us would stir again, and the sense of fear…’”
It was Friday, and they were in the meadow again. Night had fallen, and there was no moon tonight. It was no matter—Edward didn’t need the light to read. He was reading to her from Rebecca, the book she was named after. Becca had never read it before, but she knew it was one of her mother’s favorites.
“’I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire.”
They were lying perpendicular to one another, with her head on his stomach. Edward held the paperback in one hand; his other arm was folded behind his head. She wondered if he could recite the words to this book from memory; she hadn’t made a point to ask him yet.
“This we have done in full measure, ironic though it seems. We have both known fear, and loneliness, and very great distress. I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial.”
Becca made a sound deep in her throat, and Edward paused.
“Are you alright?”
She folded her hands over her abdomen. “What exactly is this book about, Edward?”
“I suppose you’ll have to listen and find out,” he said. She could tell that he was smiling. “You know, if I was named after a book, I probably wouldn’t have waited nearly twenty-five years to read it.”
“Who were you named after, anyway?”
“My father. Should I continue?”
Becca nodded.
“’We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end. We have conquered ours, or so we believe. The devil does not ride us anymore.'”
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “So, it’s a religious novel, too?”
“Becca,” Edward sighed. “If you don’t stop interrupting, at this rate, you’ll be twenty-five in this reality before we finish the novel.”
She pursed her lips, not enjoying the joke, and fought the urge to remind him that it had been his idea to read the book in the first place.
Becca frowned. “I just thought you said this was a happy story.”
He sighed, then reached down and took her free hand, squeezing her fingers. “Well, it isn’t, and I most certainly never told you that. But I do think you’ll like it if you give it a chance. Shall I continue?”
She thought about it. The first chapter had been filled with a description of a house, and now the second appeared to be a descent into judgment. Becca had never thought to even pick the book up before—she didn’t even know if her mother still owned a copy. But Edward had been ecstatic when he found the paperback on the shelves in their poetry seminar room. It was a battered copy, and Becca would have much rather spent their free time talking instead of listening but seeing Edward happy made her happy.
Besides, it wasn’t as if hearing him read was particularly excruciating. He had a nice voice, and it was a joy to listen to him.
“I guess you can keep going,” she told him.
Becca flipped over onto her side and watched him, her cheek flush against the cotton of his shirt. She had never been one for reading, as she’d told him already. But she thought, listening to him, that reading was something she could get used to. Perhaps it could be a new hobby.
It had been the best week of her life. Of this reality, of her old reality, of any reality. She’d convinced herself over the years that the idea of romance and love was stupid, that there was no point in aspiring for something that society heavily romanticized. But being with Edward made everything make sense.
He was like coming up for fresh air; she’d never felt more herself than she did in the past few days.
Edward stopped at chapter eight, and she grumbled when he closed the book, insisting that they needed to leave and get back before Charlie got upset. It was nearing nine o’clock, and Becca’s curfew was ten, but it was a Friday night, and she was already testing the boundaries by having a full-blown sleepover on Saturday.
But Edward had been right—she did indeed like the book. She was surprised by how captivating the narration was, no doubt made much more effective by Edward’s perfect reading.
“You know,” she said a few minutes later as they walked towards his car. He’d parked just off the road again. “It’s a bit creepy that my mom named me after de Winter’s dead wife, isn’t it?”
Edward glanced down at her, his eyebrows knitting together. “Did she ever tell you why?”
Becca shook her head as they got into the car. “I just know that she really liked the book. But it seems like a stark contrast to any of Jane Austen’s novels.”
“I thought you’d never read any Jane Austen novels.”
She smiled over at him. “I’ve seen the movies.”
Edward rolled his eyes and started the car. Becca shivered as the cold air hit her before the heat warmed up. Edward had a classical music CD playing. It was fitting in the background as he pulled onto the road, headlights flashing against the trees. She recognized it—it was one of Tchaikovsky’s pieces. Edward had played it twice this week.
“Are we excited for tomorrow?” he asked her.
Becca smiled. “I think it’ll be fun. I’ve never had a 2000s themed sleepover before.”
Edward laughed. “Well, Alice is very excited.”
“And Rosalie?”
“She’s much more subdued than Alice, but she has never been invited to anything like this before, so you most certainly have her attention.”
Becca nodded. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. While she still quite missed the freedom of being an adult, it was becoming much easier to live with someone telling her what to do. Not that Charlie was particularly tyrannical or appeared to care much at all unless she came home late, as she had slightly done the two nights before, but it was nice to not have to worry about adulthood.
“Have you told your family anything else about me?” she asked him quietly. “Do they know it’s my birthday?”
“I haven’t,” he shook his head for emphasis. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Alice has figured it out, though.”
Becca nodded again. “I just worry that if they find out…well, actually, if Rosalie finds out why I’m in this reality, she might not like me very much again.”
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “You mean your suicide.”
Becca froze. It was the first time he’d used the word to describe what had happened to her. “Yes.”
His voice was soft. “And why do you think that would bother Rosalie?”
“Well,” she frowned. Becca cleared her throat, wondering if this was another time when there were differences in this reality from the one that she knew. “Doesn’t Rosalie want a human life more than anything? Wouldn’t she be upset that I just willingly gave mine away? I mean, I told you I don’t remember everything about the books, but I do know that Rosalie was pretty freaking upset with Bella Swan because Bella wanted immortality.”
“Huh,” Edward said. His lips turned downward. “Bella Swan wanted to live forever?”
“Because she wanted to be with you,” Becca said. her frown deepening. She sat up straighter in her seat. “And that was the only way she could. Anyway, isn’t that true about Rosalie?”
“No, I would say that’s fairly accurate,” Edward said. “I wouldn’t use those words—that is to say that I wouldn’t say that Rosalie wants a human life more than anything, but your assumption is correct. However, I don’t understand what that has to do with you.”
“I’m asking whether you think Rosalie will be upset when she finds out that I gave up my human life so willingly.”
Edward’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he sighed. “You are human now, Becca.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” he raised an eyebrow. When Becca didn’t respond, he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell any of my family anything about you unless you ask me to.”
Becca narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything. She turned to stare out at the darkness instead.
“Did that upset you?” Edward asked. He looked over at her, but she didn’t turn to look at him.
“No.” But she had crossed her arms so against her chest and balled her hands so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She sighed. “It gets exhausting, doesn’t it? Living a double life.”
“I understand that better than you’d think.”
“I’m sure you do. I just realized that Alice knows me as Becca, and perhaps Rosalie too, but Angela and Jessica, and Lauren now that she’s also coming, only know me as Bella. Now that I spend over half of my day with you, I’m so used to hearing my own name that I think I’m the one who might mess it all up.”
There was a pause. The piano was played more furiously than before. Becca had never been one for classical music, but she was starting to see the appeal. Of course, it likely had more to do with Edward than anything.
“I want to bring something to your attention,” Edward cleared his throat. “And I don’t want it to upset you.”
“Okay,” she said, frowning.
“You have acclimated to life here in Forks wonderfully, it seems. Your grades are stellar. You’re taking college classes in high school. I understand this to be different from that of your previous life. You’ve assumed new interests and behaviors. Why, then, is it still so necessary to you to go by Becca Fitzgerald? Why not choose to go with the name of Isabella Swan and not have to worry about any slip-ups?”
She stared at him. He was right, of course. She wasn’t sure how many degrees he had in the social sciences, but he knew how to analyze her psyche better than anyone she knew.
“What do you think it says about me, then? That I’ve decided to hold onto my name?”
He looked over at her and smiled, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I think you know what it means.”
“That I think the name Bella Swan is stupid?”
Edward snorted. “I have all of eternity, Becca. I can help you figure this out now or in a few centuries. Your choice.”
She frowned at this, blinking several times, not comprehending much of what he meant. Finally, she shook her head to clear it, then glanced out of the window again. She could see lights in the distance—they were nearing the city.
“I think this might be the best week of my life,” she said quietly. “Of both of my lives. The one before and the one now.”
Edward inhaled. “Why is that, do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why is this the best week of your life?”
She turned to look at him, feeling a stab in her gut. Her face fell. “Was it not the best week of yours?”
There was a brief pause.
“I count time much differently than you do. Which is to say that there isn’t a lapse in it for me. As I don’t sleep, there’s nothing to separate the days. They reach out infinitely and become nothing more than a tool to measure. Keeping track of the days passing is unnecessary. We only do it because it helps us blend in. It helps us feel more human.”
It was easy to forget that he didn’t sleep. It was easy to forget that he was a vampire, especially when he wasn’t bringing it up in conversation. She walked around so often feeling like she was in a state of diminished consciousness that she nearly forgot that he was a mythical creature, that he was unreal. He was also so different from the Edward Cullen she had read about in her adolescence.
“But, yes,” he added, turning off of the road without braking. The car didn’t even jolt, and she wouldn’t have had the faintest idea that they were now going in a different direction if not for the sweeping lights over the pavement. “It has been a great week. Why, specifically though, do you say that this is the best week of your life?”
There were so many answers that revolved around being with him. And yet Becca couldn’t have explained it to him even if she tried. For years, she had been walking around with crushing thoughts, with inexplicable sadness weighing her down, in a rut she couldn’t get out of. For years, she’d thought this was normal. Some of it had carried over to her life in this reality. But being around Edward, knowing that he cared for her in this way, didn’t make her feel like that any longer. And while she knew it indeed wasn’t healthy to tie your worth to another person, she was so surprised by the warmth she felt from this other being that she just decided to give in and cling to it.
Even further still, she knew what it was. She could attach a label to it, even if she couldn’t quite describe it. Edward Cullen gave her a sense of stability that everyone else she knew had never been able to do. She knew that his feelings for her wouldn’t change any more than they did for the real Bella Swan. Here, with him on her side, she was safe.
Undoubtedly.
Becca opened her eyes. They were a block from Charlie’s house.
“I just don’t think I ever want to go back,” she finally told him. “Even if I had a choice. I think I want to stay in this reality forever.”
Edward pulled off of the street, into Charlie’s driveway. He cut the engine and looked at her. “You don’t miss that world at all any longer?”
“We’ll get there eventually, right? Give it fifteen years or so.”
“You don’t miss the technology and the music that you so eloquently described? What about your family?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t understand,” Edward admitted. “Just a few days ago, you missed your brother so much that you wished you had a picture of him.”
Before, she had missed her brother most of all. Her sister, too, but it was Bennet who she’d longed for. “I did miss him.”
“And you don’t anymore?”
“You changed my mind. When we were in the meadow, the other night, and you told me that we were only responsible for our own choices. Bennet is a good deal younger than me as I’ve already told you, so young that he doesn’t really feel like a brother. All his life I’ve felt this responsibility for him. But if I take a step back, he’s not my child. I didn’t give birth to him. Why should I put that on myself? Why should I put myself through the pain of missing someone who I won’t see again?”
Edward smiled. “I think you might have missed my point.”
“Probably,” she sighed. “I’m always doing that lately, it seems.”
She shook her head. She should never have dismissed immortality so flippantly before. Before, in 2020, she couldn’t have waited a day longer for her life to end. Here, with Edward Cullen, life didn’t seem so bad. There was so much he could teach her. There was so much she could learn and experience.
Charlie flicked the porch light on and off.
Becca frowned. “I should go. Are you meeting me upstairs?”
Edward reached over and kissed her on the forehead. “I have something to do. But I’ll see you tomorrow whenever I drop off Alice and Rosalie.”
Becca frowned. She was excited about the sleepover, and though she knew that there was no way for her to swing it so that Charlie would be okay with Edward joining in, she wanted to spend part of the day with him. It was a pity that this Edward was so adamant that sneaking into her room was wrong.
“You promise?”
“I promise,” he vowed. He waited until she was looking him deep in the eyes to smile. His thumb brushed her cheek. “Happy early birthday.”
She looked into his gaze and saw that there was nothing there, and then she pulled his face closer to hers. Becca leaned forward and kissed him deeply. She twined her fingers in his hair which was softer than hers and breathed in his sweet scent. There were few things more pleasurable than kissing him, and at the moment, she couldn’t think of any.
It was Edward who pushed her away. “You’d better go. Charlie is getting impatient.”
Becca leaned forward to kiss him once more. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “Why don’t you call me when you wake up and I’ll come by?”
Though he smiled sadly at her, and though his eyes were troubled, Becca didn’t notice. She hugged him and took her backpack and bounded off towards the front porch, where she would spend the next several moments convincing Charlie that she had only been studying for the past few hours.
Becca was waiting on the stairs, listening to the sounds of the game that Charlie was watching carry throughout the house. As soon as she heard a car pull up outside, she bit her lip and jumped up, hoping it was the Cullens. Edward hadn’t answered her when she’d called earlier, and no one had answered the Cullen house line when she called, either. Becca had to restrain herself from calling them repeatedly. She knew, at least in theory, that they were all immortal, and she knew that reasonably, Edward could take care of himself, but not talking to him for nearly twenty-four hours was out of character, and she was worried.
But it was Angela who was the first to arrive. She carried a blue duffel bag on one shoulder, her keys in hand, a rolled-up sleeping bag under her arm. When Becca met her at the door, Angela smiled brightly.
“My parents said to thank you for inviting me,” Angela said as she reached the porch. “My brothers are spending the night with our grandparents, so they have the house to themselves for the first time in months. None of us do sleepovers very often, so this is a real treat for them.”
Becca laughed as she held the door open, looking behind Angela. “I thought Jessica was coming with you.”
“She’s riding with Lauren. I have to tell you just how nice of you it was to invite her, Bella,” Angela said in a rush as she walked past Becca and into the house. “I know that Lauren hasn’t made it easy for you to get to know her, but it’s nice that you’re making an effort.”
That was an understatement. Lauren hadn’t attempted to get to know her at all. It wasn’t unwelcome, exactly, but she hoped that it would make things easier when they returned to school on Monday. Becca already felt that she’d done a decent job of rooting herself, but now that she made up her mind that her stay in this world was going to be permanent, she endeavored to do an even better job.
“It’ll be great,” Becca smiled and pointed towards the stairs. “You can go ahead and put your things in my room. I’ll be up soon.”
Angela grinned and walked past her.
As Angela was climbing the stairs, Becca heard two doors slam. Her heart leapt at the thought that it was the Cullens. She had spent the day getting ready with that anticipation, fighting the urge to open Rebecca without him with her to read it.
But it was only Jessica and Lauren. Still no sign of the Cullens.
She wondered if something was wrong.
“Bel-la,” Jessica sang as she skipped towards her. Becca’s eyes widened at Jessica’s outfit—both she and Lauren were wearing matching plaid pajama pants with crop tops and a face full of makeup. “We’re so excited!”
Then, glancing over at Charlie’s cruiser in the driveway, Jessica lowered her voice. “We brought a surprise for you.”
Lauren remained several steps behind Jessica, but when Becca looked at her, Lauren’s face was neutral and not unfriendly.
“What did you bring?” Becca asked. Jessica’s eyeliner was thicker than usual.
Jessica elbowed Lauren, and for the first time, Becca noticed that she held a brown paper bag close to her chest. Becca fought the urge to groan. “Show her. Bella, close the door.”
Becca tried not to frown—already, this wasn’t a great start to the night. Charlie was just a few feet away from them. Becca peeked into the bag that Lauren held open for her, and winced when she saw the handle, affirming what she already assumed.
“Where did you get that?” she asked flatly.
“Lauren’s dad,” Jessica said, surprised by Becca’s change in mood.
Becca’s forehead creased and she looked at Lauren. “Your father bought you tequila?”
“Of course not,” Lauren frowned. “I got it from his cabinet.”
“And do you always bring alcohol to sleepovers?” Becca asked, crossing her arms.
Both Lauren and Jessica rolled their eyes at the phrasing. Becca’s good mood began to evaporate, and she worried that this was a signal that her plan to celebrate her birthday was not going to be as great as she’d originally thought it would be. It wasn’t as if she’d never had her own share of cheap tequila as a teenager, but right at that moment, she was starting to feel her age. She had to remind herself not to explode.
“No,” Jessica said. “But it’s Saturday.”
Becca raised her eyebrows. “And did you happen to forget my dad is a cop?”
This was perhaps the opposite of how she wanted to spend the eve of her twenty-fifth birthday—babysitting drunk seventeen-year-olds. Especially not when, in this reality, she had a policeman for a father. Charlie would never allow it. Angela would also definitely not allow it. And besides, as old as it made her feel, she had no desire to drink cheap tequila stolen from a high schooler’s dad’s liquor cabinet.
When neither girl answered, Becca sighed. “Come in. Don’t let my dad see you with that. He’s in the living room. I’m just going to grab something from my car.”
Lauren rolled her eyes, but Jessica nodded. Lauren cradled the paper bag to her chest, and Becca wondered how idiotic they had to be to realize that bringing alcohol in a paper bag was nowhere near as inconspicuous as they thought it was.
Maybe she did need a drink after all. As soon as the door closed behind them, she sank to the steps and wrapped her arms around her knees, breathing deeply. How quickly things could change.
Becca waited outside for Rosalie and Alice for as long as she could. She’d told everyone to come at seven, hoping that the others—Lauren, Jessica, and Angela—would have eaten. But by the time an hour had passed, she knew she had to abandon her post and head upstairs to entertain her guests.
In the back of her mind, she worried that perhaps something really was wrong.
“Bella?” Charlie called as soon as Becca closed the door. “Can you come in here a second?”
Becca closed her eyes and groaned, worried Charlie had already figured out the gift that Lauren and Jessica had brought with them and leaned against the door. She took a deep breath, then sauntered into the living room.
Charlie was in the recliner, his feet propped up at the end.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m glad you’ve made good friends, kid,” Charlie said. “But not too rowdy, alright?”
Becca solemnly nodded, fighting the urge to tell Charlie exactly what was going on upstairs. But her thoughts were preoccupied with the Cullens. And she hated it—this was her chance at a true early two thousands’ sleepover.
Upstairs, all three of the girls were sitting cross-legged on her bed. She heard giggling as she stood outside, but the moment she stepped into the room, it became completely silent. Becca closed the door behind her and tried to smile. To her satisfaction, the tequila wasn’t in sight. Her room, however, already looked like a disaster—it was much more cluttered than normal, as the girls had spread their belongings out everywhere.
As Becca sank into her desk chair, the awkwardness was overwhelming. Normally, Becca would have been inclined to bridge the conversation, to fill any of the gaps, but she didn’t know Lauren very well, and since Alice and Rosalie were still not there, she didn’t quite feel like it.
“Where are Alice and Rosalie?” Jessica asked. “Aren’t they coming?”
“I have no idea,” Becca muttered.
Jessica frowned. “But—”
“They’ll probably be here later,” Angela said helpfully, filling in for Becca. Becca shot her a grateful look, and Angela smiled back and continued to talk. “I think we should do something.”
Jessica and Lauren angled their bodies towards Angela, twin frowns appearing.
“What kind of something?” Lauren asked, suspicious.
“A movie?” Angela suggested. “I brought my DVD player.”
Becca’s eyes narrowed as she saw the silver block that Angela pulled out of her bag. She’d had a portable DVD player as a child but hadn’t thought of them since. She frowned as she considered how difficult it would be for all three of them to see the tiny screen all at once—she wondered if she could convince Charlie to let them use the flat screen.
Lauren opened her mouth to speak, but Becca cut her off. “I think that’s a great idea, Ang.”
Jessica frowned. “What movies do you have?”
Becca sighed. “They’re mostly my dad’s. Where’s the closest Blockbuster?”
“Port Angeles,” all three girls said in unison.
“I have a lot of movies at my house,” Jessica offered. “I could run home and grab some.”
“I’ll come with you,” Lauren volunteered, already standing. Becca was glad that Lauren hadn’t been hostile, but she liked Jessica more without Lauren.
But before Becca could open her mouth to speak, both Lauren and Jessica were out of her room, racing down the stairs, laughing. They slammed the front door closed so loudly that Becca winced.
Only when she heard Jessica’s car start up did she get up and cross the room, flopping onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling.
“Are you upset that Alice and Rosalie aren’t here?” When Becca nodded, she continued speaking. Becca was mildly surprised. Angela had only been at her house for about half an hour and had already spoken more than Becca had ever heard her.
“I wouldn’t worry, Bella. The Cullens always stick to themselves. They’ve already spent more time with you than they have with anyone else. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
Becca closed her eyes and hoped that Angela was right.
After two movies, a lot of candy, and several hours of conversation, everyone was asleep but Becca. She watched the clock turn to midnight and realized she’d been alive for twenty-five years alone, without anyone else around. With all the other girls around her sleeping soundly, Becca couldn’t figure out how to turn off her brain.
Alice and Rosalie didn’t arrive until three a.m. when she saw headlights flashing outside her window, and she wondered why they’d even bothered to come at all. She got up carefully, trying not to jostle Angela, and crept towards her window. As she squinted at the bright red car parked off the side of the driveway, her heart sank even deeper.
Edward wasn’t with them. Still, Becca headed downstairs to meet them, walking quietly, then unlocking the door as softly as she could.
“Hi, Bella!” Alice called, bounding towards her with a large white gift bag in her hand. Rosalie followed at a similar pace, but without any enthusiasm. “Sorry we’re late. We got caught in traffic.”
Becca frowned, wondering what kind of rouse they were building. It was the middle of the early morning, for god’s sake, it wasn’t as if they were heading through rush hour traffic. Besides, the only time she’d experienced traffic in Forks was the occasional line in the school parking lot directly after the bell rang.
“Hi, Becca,” Alice whispered, winking when she was close enough that no one around them could possibly hear. Alice handed her the bag, and Becca’s wrist bent at how heavy it is. Alice frowned. “Rosalie thinks I went overboard, but I don’t think such a term applies when it’s your best friend’s birthday.”
Becca smiled at Alice, hating that she missed Edward so much that it dampened her mood. Her heart warmed at the thought of being Alice’s best friend, even though they’d only hung out a few times together.
“Rosalie is probably right,” Becca said. “This bag probably weighs as much as you do, Alice.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “Is everyone asleep?”
Becca nodded. This had to be a prompt—Alice and Rosalie could both hear who was in the house, where they were located, and that they were asleep. Jessica and Lauren were quiet on the mattress on the floor. Angela had curled up on the other side of Becca’s bed.
But instead of heading inside, Rosalie and Alice continue to stare at her.
It was Rosalie who broke the silence, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you also be sleeping?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
She waited for the compulsory “us either” joke, but it didn’t come. Becca sighed and walked inside, holding the door open behind her. She marched into the living room, turning on the table lamp as she did. Even though it was March, Charlie had turned off the heat, and she was colder than she would have liked.
As she sat down on the couch, she caught sight of them. Alice’s eyes were far away, and though Becca hadn’t been around her enough to realize that this was one of her visions, she caught on quickly enough by the way that Rosalie turned towards Alice, expectation clear in her expression.
And Becca definitely caught on when Alice abruptly stood up and announced, “I have to go.”
Rosalie frowned, but before either of them could ask her, Alice had already disappeared, the front door slamming behind her.
“I wonder what that was about,” Rosalie muttered.
Becca didn’t know what to say to that, either. She was so tired and upset. What was the point of them coming at all? They’d already made her look like a damn fool for even hoping that they would show up.
She and Rosalie sat in awkward silence. Finally, Becca cleared her throat and glared at Rosalie. “Why did you even come at all?”
Rosalie frowned. “What?”
“It’s three in the morning.”
Rosalie’s frown grew more pronounced. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You and Alice were supposed to be here hours ago. Why show up now, when everyone is sleeping already?” Becca sat back and folded her arms. “Besides, none of you answered me all day today.”
Rosalie stared at her for a while; there was definitely something she wanted to say. Finally, she put a hand on Becca’s knee, and it was so cold that Becca could feel it through the fabric. “Edward’s outside. I think you should talk to him first.”
Becca turned her head towards the window. It was too dark for her to make out anything, but she got up and crossed the room, and headed towards the front door anyway. Her heart raced as she unlocked the door, feeling both irritated and calm that Edward had returned. She took a deep breath as she saw him at the edge of the steps. Then her eyes widened.
Edward wasn’t alone.
Her father was standing beside him.
He lifted a hand to wave. “Nice to see you, Becca.”