Theory: Confirmed

Trigger

Present Day: 2018

Renesmee's Age: Physically 20

EJ's POV

"Please tell me that you're considering how dangerous this is." My Dad's voice muttered from beside me as we weaved in and out of the tourists out on the streets. Each of us had a hood up to shield from the sun, so i was damn sure we looked like some kind of muggers.

I could hardly blame him for being stressed; he was walking into a possible place of death with both his wife and second child, and not one of us knew how this was going to play out. Still, i didn't regret my suggestion in the slightest.

"Of course, but we've tried everything else. Carlisle was pretty certain about this, Dad, so we have to trust him. He thinks that if we find her trigger and she's exposed to it enough, then we'll get Renesmee back." I shrugged, and fought a soft smile at how my mom seemed to just sigh with relief as I said that. I got it, completely. For over a year now we hadn't had any clue how to get her back, so any little tiny glint of hope was enough to hold onto. They wanted their daughter back, and I wanted my sister.

"Then we'll find her trigger." My mom smiled a little, determination on her face, and she shoved open the doors to allow us in.

A young human girl was walking over to us soon after, and within minutes we'd been allowed down the hall to Aro's meeting room, where i could hear him discussing something with the others.

The large, heavy doors were pushed open and there he was stood, noticing us instantly. I swear I nearly vomited at just how sick the look on his face was. "Ah! You've arrived, how wonderful!"

"Hello, Aro." My Dad spoke first with that look on his face that told everyone in the room that he wasn't there for a joyful reunion.

"I'll admit, I was a little curious when you announced your visit... to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I heard my mom take a deep breath before speaking, and I stared right at Aro as she spoke. "We need to talk about Renesmee."

Renesmee's POV

The heat in Italy was a little different to what i was used to, but not unfamiliar. My trips to Volterra werent common at all, but frequent enough for me to recall the uncomfortable heat that i was hit with as soon as i stepped off the plane.

Flying had been torturous. The plane wasn't very busy at all, which left me little to no opportunity to choose my next hunt. If it was busy, I'd have plenty of opportunities to strike and not cause a scene, but with it being so quiet I knew that someone would notice a missing passenger before we stepped off the plane. This was one of the frustrating parts of my new lifestyle; I didnt want to die.

That sounds a little drastic, i can imagine, but it's true. If i left a mess that looked even remotely unlike a plain old human murder, then Aro would be after me, and I was having way too much fun to be executed.

We'd made an arrangement, when I'd first 'shut it off'. I could kill whoever and whenever I liked and he wouldn't bat an eyelid, but the moment that i began to leave a supernatural trail behind me, our deal was off. He'd made such an agreement with me partially out of fear - each member of the Volturi viewed me as a possible threat - and so wanted to keep me on their good side instead of risking pissing me off. I'll admit, that was a brilliant boost to my ego.

Part of this agreement, however, was my check ins. I was required to appear every few months to allow Aro to assess my actions and decide whether I'd stuck to the rules. I didn't mind; the visits were amusing.

"Excuse me! You just knocked my son's toy right out of his hand." The voice coming from beside me as I strode through the streets of Volterra was so annoying that I could've snapped her neck purely for sounding irritating. Sighing, I turned to face the woman in her thirties who was standing with a now crying little boy.