Edward Cullen thought his future with Bella was set in stone-his blood singer, his mate, his forever. But when Alice has a startling new vision, everything he believed begins to unravel.
At the center of it all is a mysterious girl, one who brings u...
[13] For it was you who created my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. [14] I will praise you because I have been remarkably and wondrously made. Your works are wondrous, and I know this very well.
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The sound of heart monitors filled the hospital room, their steady beeping the only noise beside the soft hum of the sun streaming through the open windows. The space was dotted with potted plants, adding a serene touch to an otherwise sterile environment.
In the middle of the room, in the single hospital bed, lay Vidalia. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with the dark green hospital gown, and her breathing was shallow and labored.
The worst of her injuries had been tended to, but the real battle was ongoing —one Edward could feel even in the silence that surrounded them.
Edward sat by her side, his hand wrapped around hers, watching intently. This wasn’t like when he used to watch Bella sleep. There was no fascination or obsession in his gaze. This was different. He was making sure Vidalia was okay, willing her to be free from pain.
Physically, she was healing well, but he knew her mind was far from it. Even in unconsciousness, he could see it —her face occasionally twitched, her brow furrowing as if reliving those moments from three days ago.
He could see that her dreams were plagued by the attack, memories replaying over and over. Each time, they grew clearer, making Edward’s resentment toward Bella deepen with each passing hour. Once, her recklessness might have amused him, but now?
Now, it was dangerous —no longer just for her, but for Vidalia, who had borne the brunt of it all. Bella's mild injuries paled in comparison to the devastation inflicted on Vidalia.
Dislocated shoulders, crushed legs, broken ribs, dehydration, and severe bruising all over her body —Vidalia had been the one to suffer. And still, Bella remained ungrateful. Edward’s jaw tightened at the thought, his free hand balling into a fist on the edge of the bed.
How could Bella not see what Vidalia had done for her? How could she fabricate such lies to their father, to her own mother, twisting the story to paint herself as the victim once more? The accusations of Vidalia “snapping” and pushing Bella down the stairs were too much to bear, but worse was the way Bella clung to him still, as though nothing had changed.
It had. Everything had.
Edward’s attention shifted when he felt Vidalia’s fingers twitch in his hold. The smallest movement, but it sent a wave of relief through him. Her hand tightened around his, and he heard her soft, muffled voice behind the oxygen mask she had to wear.
