Three days had passed since my encounter with Edythe in the woods, each one feeling longer than the last. The anticipation of Bella's arrival mixed with the lingering questions about Edythe, creating a restless energy that seemed to permeate every waking moment.
I found myself constantly glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until I'd be picking Bella up from the Port Angeles airport. Charlie had been called in unexpectedly, something about a hiker gone missing in the woods near the Calawah River. He'd asked me to handle the airport run, and I'd readily agreed, needing the distraction.
As I pulled out of the driveway in my Prelude, the metallic black paint gleaming even under the overcast sky, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. The car had been a labor of love, countless hours spent restoring every detail to period-correct perfection. The pop-up headlights, my favorite feature, lifted and lowered smoothly as I navigated the winding roads leading out of Forks.
The drive to Port Angeles was uneventful, giving me time to sort through the thoughts that had been chasing each other in my head for the past few days. Edythe's absence had been conspicuous, another three days gone. The whispers had intensified, speculations ranging from the mundane to the ridiculous. I'd tried to tune them out, but it was hard to ignore the nagging sense that there was truth hidden in the wild theories.
Picking Bella up was a welcome respite from the constant wondering. She looked much the same as I remembered from our last visit - long brown hair, a shy smile, and those thoughtful brown eyes that always seemed to see more than she let on. She hugged me tightly as I loaded her bags into the Prelude's trunk, the familiarity a comfort after the strangeness of the past week.
"It's good to see you," she said as we pulled out of the airport parking lot. "Really good. I wasn't sure... after everything..."
I glanced over at her, seeing the unspoken questions in her eyes. She knew about the attack, about the injuries I had, but we'd never really talked about it. Not in depth. It was an unspoken agreement - I didn't push about the reasons behind her move to Forks, and she didn't ask about the years I'd spent chasing shadows.
"It's good to see you too, Bells," I said, meaning it. "Forks hasn't changed much. Well, mostly."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Mostly?"
I hesitated, unsure how to explain the strange events of the past week. Edythe, the inexplicable pull I felt towards her, the way my world seemed to have tilted on its axis since that first meeting - it all felt too surreal, too personal to put into words.
"Just some new buildings and faces around town," I said finally, keeping my tone casual. "A family moved to town a couple years ago. They kind of keep to themselves, but they're... interesting."
Bella nodded, seeming to sense my reluctance to elaborate. "Must be quite the talk of the town, then. You know how it is with small places like Forks."
I chuckled, grateful for the change in subject. "You have no idea. I think the most exciting thing to happen before they arrived was when Mike Newton got his head stuck in the park fence back in third grade."
Bella laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "I remember that! Didn't they have to call the fire department to get him out?"
"Yep," I let out a small smile, the memory pushing back the strangeness of the present. "Poor guy never lived it down."
We fell into an easy conversation as the miles ticked by, reminiscing about childhood mishaps and catching up on the more mundane aspects of our lives. Bella filled me in on some of Renée's hobbies, her voice fondly exasperated as she described her mother's attempt at yoga.
"I swear, she's almost ended up in the ER one of those days," she sighed, shaking her head. "She once tried this pose called the 'One-Legged King Pigeon' and nearly gave herself a concussion."
I winced in sympathy. "Sounds like Renée hasn't changed much."
"No, she definitely hasn't." Bella's smile was affectionate, but there was a hint of something else there too - a weariness that seemed out of place on her young face.
I hesitated, debating whether to push further. Bella and I had always been close, but the past few years had put a distance between us that I wasn't sure how to bridge. In the end, I settled for a neutral question.
"So, how are you feeling about the move? I know it's a big change."
Bella was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. When she finally spoke, her voice was thoughtful.
"Honestly? I'm not sure. Part of me is excited to be here, to spend more time with you and Charlie. But another part..." She trailed off, biting her lip. "I guess I'm just worried about fitting in. About being the new girl in a town where everyone's known each other since birth."
I reached over, ruffling her hair like the old days. "Hey, you've got me. And Charlie. We've got your back, no matter what."
She smiled at that, fixing her now ruffled hair, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. "I know. And I'm grateful, really. It's just... a lot to take in."
I nodded in response, understanding too well of being out of place in your own life, chasing after an unknown that no one else believes in.
As we neared Forks, I remembered the other surprise waiting for Bella. Charlie and I had spent the past few days fixing up an old truck, a faded red Chevy that Billy Black had sold to us for a good price. It wasn't much to look at, but it ran well enough, and I knew Bella would appreciate the independence it offered.
Her reaction didn't disappoint. As we pulled up to the house, her eyes widened at the sight of the truck parked next to Charlie's cruiser. "Is that...?"
"All yours," I confirmed, smiling at her shocked expression. "It's a bit beat up, but I tuned it up. Should get you where you need to go."
Bella's smile was genuine as she ran a hand along the truck's weathered hood. "It's perfect. Thank you, really. Both of you."
Charlie chose that moment to emerge from the house, still in his uniform. He wrapped Bella in a hug, the affection clear even through his gruff exterior. "Welcome home, kid. It's damn good to have you here."
As I watched their reunion, I felt a pang of something I couldn't quite name. Not jealousy, but a sense of distance, like I was observing a moment I wasn't quite part of. The past few years had changed me in ways I was still trying to understand, and moments like this made me feel the weight of those changes.
Bella seemed to sense my unease, glancing over at me with a hint of concern. I shook my head slightly, forcing a smile. The last thing I wanted was to cast a shadow over her homecoming.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of unpacking and catching up, the comfort of family helped push back the strangeness. But even as I laughed at Charlie's awkward jokes and helped Bella settle into her room, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. That the secrets I'd been chasing were about to catch up with me.
That night, as I lay in bed listening to the familiar patter of rain against the roof, my thoughts drifted back to Edythe. To the electric pull between us, the way she seemed to hold the answers to questions I hadn't even known to ask. I replayed our encounters over and over, searching for clues, for some hint of what lay beneath her perfect surface.
Sleep eluded me, and when it finally came, my dreams were filled with golden eyes and marble skin, with a presence that felt older than time itself. And through it all, that sweet-metallic scent that I'd come to associate with Edythe, winding through my subconscious like a living thing.
I woke just before dawn, my heart pounding, my skin tingling with the phantom sensation of cool fingers tracing the scars at my neck. For a long moment, I lay still, half-convinced that if I opened my eyes, I'd find her there, standing at the foot of my bed with that enigmatic half-smile.
But it wasn't just the ghostly touch that felt so real - it was her scent. That distinct, sweet-metallic fragrance that I'd come to associate solely with Edythe seemed to hang in the air, as if she'd just been in the room moments before. I inhaled deeply, letting it fill my lungs, trying to convince myself it was just a lingering effect of the dream.
When I finally sat up, the room was empty, filled only with the gray light of early morning. But the sensation lingered - both the electric awareness of her presence and the unmistakable scent that seemed to cling to everything, as if she'd left an invisible mark on my surroundings.
I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep and the unsettling feeling that Edythe had somehow been here, in my room, while I slept. It was impossible, I told myself. Just my mind playing tricks, blurring the line between dreams and reality.
But even as I went through the motions of getting ready for the day, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had shifted during the night. That the already blurry boundaries between the strange and the ordinary had been crossed in some fundamental way.
Downstairs, the house was quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of settling wood. A glance at the clock confirmed what my internal rhythm already knew - it was just past five in the morning, too early even for Charlie's fishing trips.
As I made my way to the kitchen, her scent seemed to follow me, a barely-there whisper that I couldn't quite convince myself was imaginary. It was strongest near the window, as if she'd stood there looking out at the misty predawn world.
I stood at the same spot, letting the cool glass press against my forehead as I tried to make sense of what I was feeling. The logical part of my brain insisted that it was just my imagination, that the stress and strangeness of the past week were taking their toll. But another part, the part that had learned to trust instincts over reason, knew better.
Edythe had been here. I didn't know how, or why, but I could feel it with a certainty that went beyond rational thought. Her presence lingered in the air like an electrical charge, and her scent, however faint, was as real as the coffee I mechanically went through the motions of brewing.
As I stood there, watching the mist rise off the trees in the growing light, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed during the night. That whatever invisible tether bound me to Edythe had been pulled tighter, the connection strengthened by her unseen presence in my space.
Strangely, I felt no fear at the realization. For normal people, I'm sure it would've sent them running for the hills, or at least questioning their sanity. Instead, a thrill of anticipation ran through me, an almost electric hum beneath my skin that had nothing to do with the caffeine now coursing through my system.
Because if Edythe had been here, if she'd crossed that line from dreams to reality, then it meant something. It meant that the pull between us wasn't just in my head, that the secrets I'd been chasing were closer than ever before.
And despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, I knew I wouldn't rest until I uncovered the truth. Until I looked into those golden eyes again and demanded answers to the questions that burned inside me.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Bella entering the kitchen, her hair sleep-tousled and her eyes still heavy with dreams. She blinked in surprise when she saw me.
"You're up early," she observed, stifling a yawn.
I shrugged, pouring her a cup of coffee and sliding it across the counter, trying to act like my world hadn't just tilted on its axis for the hundredth time since arriving in Forks. "Old habits. How'd you sleep?"
As we fell into the comfortable rhythm of morning conversation, I tried to push thoughts of Edythe and her possible midnight visit to the back of my mind. But even as I laughed at Bella's jokes and made plans for the day ahead, I could still feel it - her scent, her presence, the invisible threads that seemed to pull me ever closer to her world.
And deep down, in a place I barely recognized, I knew I was already in too deep to turn back now. The only way out was through, and something told me that path led straight to Edythe Cullen.