My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, awhite room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; overmy head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard,uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There wasan annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I wasstill alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.

　　My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was tapedacross my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

　　"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

　　"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was justinches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realizedagain that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh,Edward, I'm so sorry!""Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now.""What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelledagainst me as I tried to recall.

　　"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, hisvoice tormented.

　　"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom.""He tricked us all.""I need to call Charlie and my mom," I realized through the haze.

　　"Alice called them. Renée is here — well, here in the hospital. She'sgetting something to eat right now.""She's here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated,and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

　　"She'll be back soon," he promised. "And you need to stay still.""But what did you tell her?" I panicked. I had no interest in beingsoothed. My mom was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. "Whydid you tell her I'm here?""You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." He paused.

　　"You have to admit, it could happen."I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the hugelump that was my leg.

　　"How bad am I?" I asked.

　　"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull,bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood.

　　They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it — it made you smellall wrong for a while.""That must have been a nice change for you.""No, I like how you smell.""How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.

　　"I'm not sure." He looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting mygauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful notto disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.

　　I waited patiently for the rest.

　　He sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible… to stop," hewhispered. "Impossible. But I did." He looked up finally, with half asmile. "I must love you.""Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt myface.

　　"Even better — better than I'd imagined.""I'm sorry," I apologized.

　　He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for.""What should I apologize for?""For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever.""I'm sorry," I apologized again.

　　"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting. "It was stillirrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should havetold me.""You wouldn't have let me go.""No," he agreed in a grim tone, "I wouldn't."Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. Ishuddered, and then winced.

　　He was instantly anxious. "Bella, what's wrong?""What happened to James?""After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him." Therewas a fierce note of regret in his voice.

　　This confused me. "I didn't see Emmett and Jasper there.""They had to leave the room… there was a lot of blood.""But you stayed.""Yes, I stayed.""And Alice, and Carlisle…" I said in wonder.

　　"They love you, too, you know."A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Alice reminded meof something. "Did Alice see the tape?" I asked anxiously.

　　"Yes." A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.

　　"She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember.""I know. She understands now." His voice was even, but his face was blackwith fury.

　　I tried to reach his face with my free hand, but something stopped me. Iglanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand.

　　"Ugh." I winced.

　　"What is it?" he asked anxiously — distracted, but not enough. Thebleakness did not entirely leave his eyes.

　　"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. Iconcentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despitethe ache in my ribs.

　　"Afraid of a needle," he muttered to himself under his breath, shakinghis head. "Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death,sure, no problem, she runs off to meet him. An IV, on the other hand…"I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least,was pain-free. I decided to change the subject.

　　"Why are you here?" I asked.

　　He stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching his eyes. Hisbrows pulled together as he frowned. "Do you want me to leave?""No!" I protested, horrified by the thought. "No, I meant, why does mymother think you're here? I need to have my story straight before shegets back.""Oh," he said, and his forehead smoothed back into marble. "I came toPhoenix to talk some sense into you, to convince you to come back toForks." His wide eyes were so earnest and sincere, I almost believed himmyself. "You agreed to see me, and you drove out to the hotel where I wasstaying with Carlisle and Alice — of course I was here with parentalsupervision," he inserted virtuously, "but you tripped on the stairs onthe way to my room and… well, you know the rest. You don't need toremember any details, though; you have a good excuse to be a littlemuddled about the finer points."I thought about it for a moment. "There are a few flaws with that story.

　　Like no broken windows.""Not really," he said. "Alice had a little bit too much fun fabricatingevidence. It's all been taken care of very convincingly — you couldprobably sue the hotel if you wanted to. You have nothing to worryabout," he promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of touches.

　　"Your only job now is to heal."I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn'trespond to his touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped arounderratically — now he wasn't the only one who could hear my heartmisbehave.

　　"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.

　　He chuckled, and a speculative look came into his eye. "Hmm, I wonder…"He leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lipseven touched me. But when they did, though with the most gentle ofpressure, the beeping stopped altogether.

　　He pulled back abruptly, his anxious expression turning to relief as themonitor reported the restarting of my heart.

　　"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you thanusual." He frowned.

　　"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come overthere."He grinned, and bent to press his lips lightly to mine. The monitor wentwild.

　　But then his lips were taut. He pulled away.

　　"I think I hear your mother," he said, grinning again.

　　"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding throughme. I couldn't let him go — he might disappear from me again.

　　He read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," he promisedsolemnly, and then he smiled. "I'll take a nap."He moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoisefaux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back,and closing his eyes. He was perfectly still.

　　"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered sarcastically. He took a deepbreath, his eyes still closed.

　　I could hear my mother now. She was talking to someone, maybe a nurse,and she sounded tired and upset. I wanted to jump out of the bed and runto her, to calm her, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't inany sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently.

　　The door opened a crack, and she peeked through.

　　"Mom!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.

　　She took in Edward's still form on the recliner, and tiptoed to mybedside.

　　"He never leaves, does he?" she mumbled to herself.

　　"Mom, I'm so glad to see you!"She bent down to hug me gently, and I felt warm tears falling on mycheeks.

　　"Bella, I was so upset!""I'm sorry, Mom. But everything's fine now, it's okay," I comforted her.

　　"I'm just glad to finally see your eyes open." She sat on the edge of mybed.

　　I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea when it was. "How long havethey been closed?""It's Friday, hon, you've been out for a while.""Friday?" I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when…but I didn't want to think about that.

　　"They had to keep you sedated for a while, honey — you've got a lot ofinjuries.""I know." I could feel them.

　　"You're lucky Dr. Cullen was there. He's such a nice man… very young,though. And he looks more like a model than a doctor…""You met Carlisle?""And Edward's sister Alice. She's a lovely girl.""She is," I agreed wholeheartedly.

　　She glanced over her shoulder at Edward, lying with his eyes closed inthe chair. "You didn't tell me you had such good friends in Forks."I cringed, and then moaned.

　　"What hurts?" she demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Edward's eyesflashed to my face.

　　"It's fine," I assured them. "I just have to remember not to move." Helapsed back into his phony slumber.

　　I took advantage of my mother's momentary distraction to keep the subjectfrom returning to my less-than-candid behavior. "Where's Phil?" I askedquickly.

　　"Florida — oh, Bella! You'll never guess! Just when we were about toleave, the best news!""Phil got signed?" I guessed.

　　"Yes! How did you guess! The Suns, can you believe it?""That's great, Mom," I said as enthusiastically as I could manage, thoughI had little idea what that meant.

　　"And you'll like Jacksonville so much," she gushed while I stared at hervacantly. "I was a little bit worried when Phil started talking aboutAkron, what with the snow and everything, because you know how I hate thecold, but now Jacksonville! It's always sunny, and the humidity reallyisn't that bad. We found the cutest house, yellow, with white trim, and aporch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree, and it's just afew minutes from the ocean, and you'll have your own bathroom —""Wait, Mom!" I interrupted. Edward still had his eyes closed, but helooked too tense to pass as asleep. "What are you talking about? I'm notgoing to Florida. I live in Forks.""But you don't have to anymore, silly," she laughed. "Phil will be ableto be around so much more now… we've talked about it a lot, and what I'mgoing to do is trade off on the away games, half the time with you, halfthe time with him.""Mom." I hesitated, wondering how best to be diplomatic about this. "Iwant to live in Forks. I'm already settled in at school, and I have acouple of girlfriends" — she glanced toward Edward again when I remindedher of friends, so I tried another direction — "and Charlie needs me.

　　He's just all alone up there, and he can't cook at all.""You want to stay in Forks?" she asked, bewildered. The idea wasinconceivable to her. And then her eyes flickered back toward Edward.

　　"Why?""I told you — school, Charlie — ouch!" I'd shrugged. Not a good idea.

　　Her hands fluttered helplessly over me, trying to find a safe place topat. She made do with my forehead; it was unbandaged.

　　"Bella, honey, you hate Forks," she reminded me.

　　"It's not so bad."She frowned and looked back and forth between Edward and me, this timevery deliberately.

　　"Is it this boy?" she whispered.

　　I opened my mouth to lie, but her eyes were scrutinizing my face, and Iknew she would see through that.

　　"He's part of it," I admitted. No need to confess how big a part. "So,have you had a chance to talk with Edward?" I asked.

　　"Yes." She hesitated, looking at his perfectly still form. "And I want totalk to you about that."Uh-oh. "What about?" I asked.

　　"I think that boy is in love with you," she accused, keeping her voicelow.

　　"I think so, too," I confided.

　　"And how do you feel about him?" She only poorly concealed the ragingcuriosity in her voice.

　　I sighed, looking away. As much as I loved my mom, this was not aconversation I wanted to have with her. "I'm pretty crazy about him."There — that sounded like something a teenager with her first boyfriendmight say.

　　"Well, he seems very nice, and, my goodness, he's incrediblygood-looking, but you're so young, Bella…" Her voice was unsure; as faras I could remember, this was the first time since I was eight that she'dcome close to trying to sound like a parental authority. I recognized thereasonable-but-firm tone of voice from talks I'd had with her about men.

　　"I know that, Mom. Don't worry about it. It's just a crush," I soothedher.

　　"That's right," she agreed, easily pleased.

　　Then she sighed and glanced guiltily over her shoulder at the big, roundclock on the wall.

　　"Do you need to go?"She bit her lip. "Phil's supposed to call in a little while… I didn'tknow you were going to wake up…""No problem, Mom." I tried to tone down the relief so she wouldn't gether feelings hurt. "I won't be alone.""I'll be back soon. I've been sleeping here, you know," she announced,proud of herself.

　　"Oh, Mom, you don't have to do that! You can sleep at home — I'll nevernotice." The swirl of painkillers in my brain was making it hard toconcentrate even now, though, apparently, I'd been sleeping for days.

　　"I was too nervous," she admitted sheepishly. "There's been some crime inthe neighborhood, and I don't like being there alone.""Crime?" I asked in alarm.

　　"Someone broke into that dance studio around the corner from the houseand burned it to the ground — there's nothing left at all! And they lefta stolen car right out front. Do you remember when you used to dancethere, honey?""I remember." I shivered, and winced.

　　"I can stay, baby, if you need me.""No, ............