( when the stars forget us! ) ↳chapter thirty-nine ↲
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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❝ DON'T SHUT ME OUT LIKE I'M NOTHING TO YOU. ❞ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
RAIN STREAKED across the car windows in steady silver lines, blurring the world outside into watercolor. Talia sat curled against the door, her forehead resting against the cool glass as the wipers dragged across the windshield with a slow, rhythmic scrape. Forks was drenched in fog, its trees rising like dark, watchful silhouettes through the mist.
Her mind was louder than the rain.
School.
She hadn't even thought about school. Not her assignments, not her schedule—nothing. She was probably weeks behind on work now. A paper was due yesterday, maybe two, and the realization sat heavy in her chest, small and sharp like a stone she couldn't cough out.
But how was she supposed to care about essays and grades when the world had cracked open beneath her feet? When she was something else—something old and hunted—and every choice she made could light a fuse under the people she loved?
The car slowed, crunching onto the gravel of Bella's driveway. The familiar white house materialized through the downpour. Talia's stomach lurched.
She didn't move to get out. Not yet.
Then—headlights swept across them from the opposite side of the street. Another car pulled in. Sleek. Black. Polished like onyx even in the rain.
Daniel's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Joyce went very still beside him. Talia's pulse stumbled as she saw who that was.
It was Edward Cullen.
The girl was confused as to what he was doing here. Last thing she knew, he went to go get the rest of his family and move back but that didn't mean he was coming back to be with Bella. Or at least that's what Bella told her.
She could see his pale, perfectly carved profile through the window as he parked, his eyes flicking up—straight at her. Her breath caught.
Edward's car eased to a stop at the curb, its engine purring too smoothly for the sleepy, rain-drowned street. He didn't move at first. The windshield wipers ticked lazily back and forth, and behind the glass his face was a pale, unreadable mask.
Daniel's hand was still locked around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening, every muscle coiled. Beside him, Joyce pressed her palm against her thigh to stop its trembling.
Talia felt the chill crawl down her spine before the door even opened. Her shoes sank into the wet gravel, her hair plastered to her cheeks, but the cold had nothing to do with the rain.
