rom her, seating myself on the foot of Tyler's mattress.
"So, what's the verdict?" I asked her.
Her lower lip pushed out a little.  "There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they
won't let me go.  How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"
Her impatience made me smile again.
I could hear Carlisle in the hall now.
"It's all about who you know," I said lightly.  "But don't worry, I came to spring
you."
I watched her reaction carefully as my father entered the room.  Her eyes widened
and her mouth actually fell open in surprise.  I groaned internally.  Yes, she'd certainly
noticed the resemblance.
"So, Miss Swan, how are you feeling?" Carlisle asked.  He had a wonderfully
soothing beside manner that put most patients at ease within moments.  I couldn't tell
how it affected Bella.
"I'm fine," she said quietly.
Carlisle clipped her X-rays to the lightboard by the bed.  "Your X-rays look good.
Does your head hurt?  Edward said you hit it pretty hard."
She sighed, and said, "I'm fine," again, but this time impatience leaked into her
voice.  Then she glowered once in my direction.
Carlisle stepped closer to her and ran his fingers gently over her scalp until he
found the bump under her hair.
I was caught off guard by the wave of emotion that crashed over me.
I had seen Carlisle work with humans a thousand times.  Years ago, I had even
assisted him informally-though only in situations where blood was not involved.  So it
wasn't a new thing to me, to watch him interact with the girl as if he were as human as
she was.  I'd envied his control many times, but that was not the same as this emotion.  I
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envied him more than his control.  I ached for the difference between Carlisle and me-
that he could touch her so gently, without fear, knowing he would never harm her...
She winced, and I twitched in my seat.  I had to concentrate for a moment to keep
my relaxed posture.
"Tender?" Carlisle asked.
Her chin jerked up a fraction.  "Not really," she said.
Another small piece of her character fell into place: she was brave.  She didn't
like to show weakness.
Possibly the most vulnerable creature I'd ever seen, and she didn't want to seem
weak.  A chuckle slid through my lips.
She shot another glare at me.
"Well," Carlisle said.  "Your father is in the waiting room-you can go home
with him now.  But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."
Her father was here?  I swept through the thoughts in the crowded waiting room,
but I couldn't pick his subtle mental voice out of the group before she was speaking
again, her face anxious.
"Can't I go back to school?"
"Maybe you should take it easy today," Carlisle suggested.
Her eyes flickered back to me.  "Does
he
get to go to school?"
Act normal, smooth things over...ignore the way it feels when she looks me in the
eye...
"Someone has to spread the good news that we survived," I said.
"Actually," Carlisle corrected, "most of the school seems to be in the waiting
room."
I anticipated her reaction this time-her aversion to attention.  She didn't
disappoint.
"Oh no," she moaned, and she put her hands over her face.
I liked that I'd finally guessed right.  I was beginning to understand her...
"Do you want to stay?" Carlisle asked.
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"No, no!" she said quickly, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress and
sliding down till her feet were on the floor.  She stumbled forward, off-balance, into
Carlisle's arms.  He caught and steadied her.
Again, the envy flooded through me.
"I'm fine," she said before he could comment, faint pink in her cheeks.
Of course, that wouldn't bother Carlisle.  He made sure she was balanced, and
then dropped his hands.
"Take some Tylenol for the pain," he instructed.
"It doesn't hurt that bad."
Carlisle smiled as he signed her chart.  "It sounds like you were extremely lucky."
She turned her face slightly, to stare at me with hard eyes.  "Lucky Edward
happened to be standing next to me."
"Oh, well, yes," Carlisle agreed quickly, hearing the same thing in her voice that I
heard.  She hadn't written her suspicions off as imagination.  Not yet.
All yours
, Carlisle thought.
Handle it as you think best.
"Thanks so much," I whispered, quick and quiet.  Neither human heard me.
Carlisle's lips turned up a tiny bit at my sarcasm as he turned to Tyler.  "I'm afraid that
you'll
have to stay with us just a little bit longer," he said as he began examining the
slashes left by the shattered windshield.
Well, I'd made the mess, so it was only fair that I had to deal with it.
Bella walked deliberately toward me, not stopping until she was uncomfortably
close.  I remembered how I had hoped, before all the mayhem, that she would approach
me...  This was like a mockery of that wish.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she hissed at me.
Her warm breath brushed my face and I had to stagger back a step.  Her appeal
had not abated one bit.  Every time she was near me, it triggered all my worst, most
urgent instincts.  Venom flowed in my mouth and my body yearned to strike-to wrench
her into my arms and crush her throat to my teeth.
My mind was stronger than my body, but only just.
"Your father is waiting for you," I reminded her, my jaw clenched tight.
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She glanced toward Carlisle and Tyler.  Tyler was paying us no attention at all,
but Carlisle was monitoring my every breath.
Carefully, Edward.
"I'd like to speak to you alone, if you don't mind," she insisted in a low voice.
I wanted to tell her that I did mind very much, but I knew I would have to do this
eventually.  I may as well get on with it.
I was full of so many conflicting emotions as I stalked out of the room, listening
to her stumbling footsteps behind me, trying to keep up.
I had a show to put on now.  I knew the role I would play-I had the character
down: I would be the villain.  I would lie and ridicule and be cruel.
It went against all my better impulses-the human impulses that I'd clung to
through all these years.  I'd never wanted to deserve trust more than in this moment,
when I had to destroy all possibility of it.
It made it worse to know that this would be the last memory she would have of
me.  This was my farewell scene.
I turned on her.
"What do you want?" I asked coldly.
She cringed back slightly from my hostility.  Her eyes turned bewildered, the
expression that had haunted me...
"You owe me an explanation," she said in a small voice; her ivory face blanched.
It was very hard to keep my voice harsh.  "I saved your life-I don't owe you
anything."
She flinched-it burned like acid to watch my words hurt her.
"You promised," she whispered.
"Bella, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about."
Her chin came up then.  "There's nothing wrong with my head."
She was angry now, and that made it easier for me.  I met her glare, making my
face more unfriendly.
"What do you want from me, Bella?"
"I want to know the truth.  I want to know why I'm lying for you."
What she wanted was only fair-it frustrated me to have to deny her.
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"What do you
think
happened?" I nearly growled at her.
Her words poured out in a torrent.  "All I know is that you weren't anywhere near
me-Tyler didn't see you, either, so don't tell me I hit my head too hard.  That van was
going to crush us both-and it didn't, and your hands left dents in the side of it-and you
left a dent in the other car, and you're not hurt at all-and the van should have smashed
my legs, but you were holding it up..."  Suddenly, she clenched her teeth together and
her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
I stared at her, my expression derisive, though what I really felt was awe; she had
seen everything.
"You think I lifted a van off you?" I asked sarcastically.
She answered with one stiff nod.
My voice grew more mocking.  "Nobody will believe that, you know."
She made an effort to control her anger.  When she answered me, she spoke each
word with slow deliberation.  "I'm not going to tell anybody."
She meant it-I could see that in her eyes.  Even furious and betrayed, she would
keep my secret.
Why?
The shock of it ruined my carefully designed expression for half a second, and
then I pulled myself together.
"Then why does it matter?" I asked, working to keep my voice severe.
"It matters to me," she said intensely.  "I don't like to lie-so there'd better be a
good reason why I'm doing it."
She was asking me to trust her.  Just as I wanted her to trust me.  But this was a
line I could not cross.
My voice stayed callous.  "Can't you just thank me and get it over with?"
"Thank you," she said, and then she fumed silently, waiting.
"You're not going to let it go, are you?"
"No."
"In that case..."  I couldn't tell her the truth if I wanted to...and I
didn't
want to.
I'd rather she made up her own story than know what I was, because nothing could be
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worse than the truth-I was a living nightmare, straight from the pages of a horror novel.
"I hope you enjoy disappointment."
We scowled at each other.  It was odd how endearing her anger was.  Like a
furious kitten, soft and harmless, and so unaware of her own vulnerability.
She flushed pink and ground her teeth together again.  "Why did you even
bother?"
Her question wasn't one that I was expecting or prepared to answer.  I lost my
hold on the role I was playing.  I felt the mask slip from my face, and I told her-this one
time-the truth.
"I don't know."
I memorized her face one last time-it was still set in lines of anger, the blood not
yet faded from her cheeks-and then I turned and walked away from her.
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4. Visions
I went back to school.  This was the right thing to do, the most inconspicuous way to
behave.
By the end of t