r body moved limply as I swung her around so
that her legs would be in the clear-was she conscious?  How much damage had I done
to her in my impromptu rescue attempt?
I let the van drop, now that it could not hurt her.  It crashed to the pavement, all
the windows shattering in unison.
I knew that I was in the middle of a crisis.  How much had she seen?  Had any
other witnesses watched me materialize at her side and then juggle the van while I tried to
keep her out from under it?  These questions
should
be my biggest concern.
But I was too anxious to really care about the threat of exposure as much as I
should.  Too panic-stricken that I might have injured her myself in my effort to protect
her.  Too frightened to have her this close to me, knowing what I would smell if I allowed
myself to inhale.  Too aware of the heat of her soft body, pressed against mine-even
through the double obstacle of our jackets, I could feel that heat...
The first fear was the greatest fear.  As the screaming of the witnesses erupted
around us, I leaned down to examine her face, to see if she was conscious-hoping
fiercely that she was not bleeding anywhere.
Her eyes were open, staring in shock.
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"Bella?" I asked urgently.  "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."  She said the words automatically in a dazed voice.
Relief, so exquisite it was nearly pain, washed through me at the sound of her
voice.  I sucked in a breath through my teeth, and did not mind the accompanying burn in
my throat.  I almost welcomed it.
She struggled to sit up, but I was not ready to release her.  It felt
somehow...safer?  Better, at least, having her tucked into my side.
"Be careful," I warned her.  "I think you hit your head pretty hard."
There had been no smell of fresh blood-a mercy, that-but this did not rule out
internal damage.  I was abruptly anxious to get her to Carlisle and a full compliment of
radiology equipment.
"Ow," she said, her tone comically shocked as she realized I was right about her
head.
"That's what I thought."  Relief made it funny to me, made me almost giddy.
"How in the..."  Her voice trailed off, and her eyelids fluttered.  "How did you
get over here so fast?"
The relief turned sour, the humor vanished.  She
had
noticed too much.
Now that it appeared that the girl was in decent shape, the anxiety for my family
became severe.
"I was standing right next to you, Bella."  I knew from experience that if I was
very confident as I lied, it made any questioner less sure of the truth.
She struggled to move again, and this time I allowed it.  I needed to breathe so
that I could play my role correctly.  I needed space from her warm-blooded heat so that it
would not combine with her scent to overwhelm me.  I slid away from her, as far as was
possible in the small space between the wrecked vehicles.
She stared up at me, and I stared back.  To look away first was a mistake only an
incompetent liar would make, and I was not an incompetent liar.  My expression was
smooth, benign...  It seemed to confuse her.  That was good.
The accident scene was surrounded now.  Mostly students, children, peering and
pushing through the cracks to see if any mangled bodies were visible.  There was a
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babble of shouting and a gush of shocked thought.  I scanned the thoughts once to make
sure there were no suspicions yet, and then tuned it out and concentrated only on the girl.
She was distracted by the bedlam.  She glanced around, her expression still
stunned, and tried to get to her feet.
I put my hand lightly on her shoulder to hold her down.
"Just stay put for now."  She
seemed
alright, but should she really be moving her
neck?  Again, I wished for Carlisle.  My years of theoretical medical study were no match
for his centuries of hands-on medical practice.
"But it's cold," she objected.
She had almost been crushed to death two distinct times and crippled one more,
and it was the cold that worried her.  A chuckle slid through my teeth before I could
remember that the situation was not funny.
Bella blinked, and then her eyes focused on my face.  "You were over there."
That sobered me again.
She glanced toward the south, though there was nothing to see now but the
crumpled side of the van.  "You were by your car."
"No, I wasn't."
"I saw you," she insisted; her voice was childlike when she was being stubborn.
Her chin jutted out.
"Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way."
I stared deeply into her wide eyes, trying to will her into accepting my version-
the only rational version on the table.
Her jaw set.  "No."
I tried to stay calm, to not panic.  If only I could keep her quiet for a few
moments, to give me a chance to destroy the evidence....and undermine her story by
disclosing her head injury.
Shouldn't it be easy to keep this silent, secretive girl quiet?  If only she would
trust me, just for a few moments...
"Please, Bella," I said, and my voice was too intense, because I suddenly
wanted
her to trust me.  Wanted it badly, and not just in regards to this accident.  A stupid desire.
What sense would it make for her to trust
me
?
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"Why?" she asked, still defensive.
"Trust me," I pleaded.
"Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"
It made me angry to have to lie to her again, when I so much wished that I could
somehow deserve her trust.  So, when I answered her, it was a retort.
"Fine."
"Fine," she echoed in the same tone.
While the rescue attempt began around us-adults arriving, authorities called,
sirens in the distance-I tried to ignore the girl and get my priorities in the right order.  I
searched through every mind in the lot, the witnesses and the latecomers both, but I could
find nothing dangerous.  Many were surprised to see me here beside Bella, but all
concluded-as there was no other possible conclusion-that they had just not noticed me
standing by the girl before the accident.
She was the only one who didn't accept the easy explanation, but she would be
considered the least reliable witness.  She had been frightened, traumatized, not to
mention sustaining the blow to the head.  Possibly in shock.  It would be acceptable for
her story to be confused, wouldn't it?  No one would give it much credence above so
many other spectators...
I winced when I caught the thoughts of Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett, just arriving
on the scene.  There would be hell to pay for this tonight.
I wanted to iron out the indention my shoulders had made against the tan car, but
the girl was too close.  I'd have to wait till she was distracted.
It was frustrating to wait-so many eyes on me-as the humans struggled with
the van, trying to pull it away from us.  I might have helped them, just to speed the
process, but I was already in enough trouble and the girl had sharp eyes.  Finally, they
were able to shift it far enough away for the EMTs to get to us with their stretchers.
A familiar, grizzled face appraised me.
"Hey, Edward," Brett Warner said.  He was also a registered nurse, and I knew
him well from the hospital.  It was a stroke of luck-the only luck today-that he was the
first through to us.  In his thoughts, he was noting that I looked alert and calm.  "You
okay, kid?"
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"Perfect, Brett.  Nothing touched me.  But I'm afraid Bella here might have a
concussion.  She really hit her head when I yanked her out of the way..."
Brett turned his attention to the girl, who shot me a fierce look of betrayal.  Oh,
that was right.  She was the quiet martyr-she'd prefer to suffer in silence.
She did not contradict my story immediately, though, and this made me feel
easier.
The next EMT tried to insist that I allow myself to be treated, but it wasn't too
difficult to dissuade him.  I promised I would let my father examine me, and he let it go.
With most humans, speaking with cool assurance was all that was needed.  Most humans,
just not the girl, of course.  Did she fit into
any
of the normal patterns?
As they put a neck brace on her-and her face flushed scarlet with
embarrassment-I used the moment of distraction to quietly rearrange the shape of the
dent in the tan car with the back of my foot.  Only my siblings noticed what I was doing,
and I heard Emmett's mental promise to catch anything I missed.
Grateful for his help-and more grateful that Emmett, at least, had already
forgiven my dangerous choice-I was more relaxed as I climbed into the front seat of the
ambulance next to Brett.
The chief of police arrived before they had gotten Bella into the back of the
ambulance.
Though Bella's father's thoughts were past words, the panic and concern
emanating out of the man's mind drown out just about every other thought in the vicinity.
Wordless anxiety and guilt, a great swell of them, washed out of him as he saw his only
daughter on the gurney.
Washed out of him and through me, echoing and growing stronger.  When Alice
had warned me that killing Charlie Swan's daughter would kill him, too, she had not been
exaggerating.
My head bowed with that guilt as I listened to his panicked voice.
"Bella!" he shouted.
"I'm completely fine, Char-Dad."  She sighed.  "There's nothing wrong with
me."
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Her assurance barely soothed his dread.  He turned at once to the closest EMT and
demanded more information.
I wasn't until I heard him speaking, forming perfectly coherent sentences despite
his panic, that I realized that his anxiety and concern were
not
wordless.  I just...could
not hear the exact words.
Hmm.  Charlie Swan was not as silent as his daughter, but I could see where she
got it from.  Interesting.
I'd never spent much time around the town's police chief.  I'd always taken him
for a man of slow thought-now I realized that
I
was the one who was slow.  His
tho