Breaking Dawn   ::   Meyer Stephenie

Which story would it be?

So he’s all flipped out. Guess Edward and Bella got home last week, and…

My chest eased up.

She was alive. Or she wasn’t dead dead, at least.

I hadn’t realized how much difference it would make to me. I’d been thinking of her as dead this whole time, and I only saw that now. I saw that I’d never believed that he would bring her back alive. It shouldn’t matter, because I knew what was coming next.

Yeah, bro, and here’s the bad news. Charlie talked to her, said she sounded bad. She told him she’s sick. Carlisle got on and told Charlie that Bella picked up some rare disease in South America. Said she’s quarantined. Charlie’s going crazy, ’cause even he’s not allowed to see her. He says he doesn’t care if he gets sick, but Carlisle wouldn’t bend. No visitors. Told Charlie it was pretty serious, but that he’s doing everything he can. Charlie’s been stewing about it for days, but he only called Billy now. He said she sounded worse today.

The mental silence when Seth finished was profound. We all understood.

So she would die of this disease, as far as Charlie knew. Would they let him view the corpse? The pale, perfectly still, unbreathing white body? They couldn’t let him touch the cold skin—he might notice how hard it was. They’d have to wait until she could hold still, could keep from killing Charlie and the other mourners. How long would that take?

Would they bury her? Would she dig herself out, or would the bloodsuckers come for her?

The others listened to my speculating in silence. I’d put a lot more thought into this than any of them.

Leah and I entered the clearing at nearly the same time. She was sure her nose led the way, though. She dropped onto her haunches beside her brother while I trotted forward to stand at Sam’s right hand. Paul circled and made room for me in my place.

Beatcha again, Leah thought, but I barely heard her.

I wondered why I was the only one on my feet. My fur stood up on my shoulders, bristling with impatience.

Well, what are we waiting for? I asked.

No one said anything, but I heard their feelings of hesitation.

Oh, come on! The treaty’s broken!

We have no proof—maybe she is sick.…

OH, PLEASE!

Okay, so the circumstantial evidence is pretty strong. Still… Jacob. Sam’s thought came slow, hesitant. Are you sure this is what you want? Is it really the right thing? We all know what she wanted.