Twilight Tenth Anniversary Edition

by Stephenie Meyer

  “What’s her number?” Archie asked. He had the phone in his hand.

  “They don’t have a permanent number except at the house. She’s supposed to check her messages regularly.”

  “Jess?” Archie asked.

  She thought about it. “I don’t think it could hurt—don’t say where you are, obviously.”

  I nodded, reaching for the phone. I dialed the familiar number, then waited through four rings until my mother’s breezy voice came on, telling me to leave a message.

  “Mom,” I said after the beep, “it’s me. Listen, I need you to do something. It’s important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number.” Archie pointed to the number already written on the bottom of his picture. I read it carefully, twice. “Please don’t go anywhere until you talk to me. Don’t worry, I’m okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right? I love you, Mom. Bye.” I closed my eyes and prayed that no unforeseen change of plans would bring her home before she got my message.

  Then we were back to waiting.

  I thought about calling Charlie, but I wasn’t sure what I could say. I watched the news, concentrating now, watching for stories about Florida, or about spring training—strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks—anything that might send them home early.

  It seemed like immortality granted endless patience, too. Neither Jessamine nor Archie seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Archie sketched the vague outline of the dark room from his vision, as much as he could see in the light from the TV. But when he was done, he simply sat, looking at the blank walls. Jessamine, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or to peek through the curtains, or to punch holes in the wall, the way I did.

  I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring.

  21. PHONE CALL

  WHEN I WOKE UP, I KNEW IT WAS TOO EARLY. I WAS GETTING MY DAYS and nights reversed. The TV was on—the only light in the room—but the sound was muted. The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. I could hear the sound of quiet voices speaking too quickly, and I figured that was what had woken me. I lay still on the couch for a minute, waiting for my eyes and ears to adjust.

  I realized that it was strange that they were talking loud enough to wake me, and I sat up.

  Archie was leaning over the desk, Jessamine next to him with her hand on his back. He was sketching again.

  I got up and walked over to them. Neither one of them looked up, too engrossed in Archie’s work.

  I went around to Archie’s other side to see.

  “He saw something else,” I said quietly to Jessamine.

  “Something’s brought the tracker back to the room with the VCR, but it’s light now,” she answered.

  I watched as Archie drew a square room with dark beams across its low ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone—a large tan stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An old sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it.

  “The phone goes there,” I whispered, pointing.

  They both stared at me.

  “That’s my mom’s house.”

  Archie was across the room, phone in hand, dialing. I stared at the faithful rendering of my family room. Uncharacteristically, Jessamine slid closer to me. She lightly touched her hand to my shoulder, and the physical contact seemed to make her calming influence stronger. The panic stayed dull, unfocused.

  Archie’s lips blurred, he was talking so fast—his voice was just a low buzzing impossible to understand.

  “Beau,” he said. I looked at him numbly.

  “Beau, Edythe is coming. She and Eleanor and Carine are going to take you somewhere, hide you for a while.”

  “Edythe is coming?”

  “Yes, she’s catching the first flight out of Seattle. We’ll meet her at the airport, and you’ll leave with her.”

  “But—my mom! She came here for my mom, Archie!” Even with Jessamine touching me, I could feel the panic seizing up my chest.

  “Jess and I will stay till she’s safe again.”

  “We can’t win, Archie! You can’t guard everyone I know forever. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She’s not even tracking me. She’ll find someone—she’ll hurt someone I love! Archie, I can’t—”

  “We’ll catch her, Beau.”

  “And what if you get hurt, Archie? Do you think that’s okay with me? Do you think it’s only my human family she can hurt me with?”

  Archie raised his eyebrows at Jessamine. A heavy fog of exhaustion washed over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. I struggled against the fog, knowing what was happening. I forced my eyes open and stepped away from Jessamine’s hand.

  “I don’t need sleep,” I snapped.

  I went back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Archie didn’t follow me, the way I half-expected him to. Maybe he could see what his reception would be.

  For almost four hours I sat on the floor and stared at the wall, my hands clenched into fists. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. I couldn’t see any escape—just one possible end. The only question was how many other people would get hurt before I reached it.

  The only hope I had left was knowing that I would see Edythe soon. Maybe, if I could see her face again, I would be able to see a solution, too. Things were always clearer when we were together.

  When the phone rang, I went back to the front room, a little ashamed of my behavior. I hoped I hadn’t offended anyone. I hoped they realized that I was nothing but grateful for the sacrifices they were making for me.

  Archie was talking at high speed into the phone again. I looked around, but Jessamine was gone. The clock said it was five-thirty in the morning.

  “They’re just boarding their plane,” Archie told me. “They’ll land at nine-forty-five.”

  Just a few more hours to keep myself together till she was here.

  “Where’s Jessamine?”

  “She went to check out.”

  “You aren’t staying here?”

  “No, we’re relocating closer to your mother’s house.”

  I felt like I wanted to throw up, but then the phone rang again. Archie looked at the number, then held it out to me. I yanked it from his hand.

  “Mom?”

  “Beau? Beau?” It was my mom’s voice—that familiar tone I’d heard a thousand times in my childhood, anytime I’d gotten too close to the edge of the sidewalk or strayed out of her sight in a crowded place. It was the sound of panic.

  “Calm down, Mom,” I said in my most soothing voice, walking slowly away from Archie, back to the bedroom. I wasn’t sure if I could lie convincingly with him watching. “Everything is fine, okay? Just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

  I paused, surprised that she hadn’t interrupted me yet.

  “Mom?”

  “Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.” The voice I heard now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a woman’s voice, but not my mom’s. It was a soft alto voice, a very pleasant, generic voice—the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. She spoke quickly.

  “Now, I don’t need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she’ll be fine.” She paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. “That’s very good,” she congratulated. “Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, ‘No, Mom, stay where you are.’”

  “No, Mom, stay where you are.” My voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “I can see this is going to be difficult.” T
he voice was amused, still light and friendly. “Why don’t you walk into another room now so your face doesn’t ruin everything? There’s no reason for your mother to suffer. As you’re walking, say, ‘Mom, please listen to me.’ Say it now.”

  “Mom, please listen to me,” I pleaded. I walked slowly through the bedroom door, feeling Archie’s worried stare on my back. I shut the door behind me, trying to think clearly through the terror that immobilized my brain.

  “There now, are you alone? Just answer yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  “But they can still hear you, I’m sure.”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then,” the agreeable voice continued, “say, ‘Mom, trust me.’”

  “Mom, trust me.”

  “This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but your mother arrived ahead of schedule. It’s easier this way, isn’t it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you.”

  I waited.

  “Now I want you to listen very carefully. I’m going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother’s life depended on it? Answer yes or no.”

  Somehow, there had to be a way.

  “Yes,” I said through my teeth.

  “Very good, Beau. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to your mother’s house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it, and I’ll tell you where to go from there.” I already knew where I would go, and where this would end. But I would follow her instructions exactly. “Can you do that? Answer yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  “Before noon, please, Beau. I haven’t got all day,” she said.

  “Where’s Phil?” I hissed.

  “Ah, be careful now, Beau. Wait until I ask you to speak, please.”

  I waited.

  “It’s important that you don’t make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called, and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, ‘Thank you, Mom.’ Say it now.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” It was hard to understand the words. My throat was closing up.

  “Say, ‘I love you, Mom, I’ll see you soon.’ Say it now.”

  “I love you, Mom,” I choked out. “I’ll see you soon,” I promised.

  “Goodbye, Beau. I look forward to seeing you again.” She hung up.

  I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen with horror—I couldn’t unbend my fingers to drop it.

  I knew I had to think, but my head was filled with the sound of my mother’s panic. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control.

  Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of pain. To plan. Because I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored room and die. I had no guarantees that doing what she wanted would keep my mother alive. I could only hope that Joss would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating Edythe would be enough. Despair was like a noose pulling tight around my neck; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that would influence her. But I still had no choice. I had to try.

  I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did no good to waste time agonizing over it. I had to think clearly, because Archie and Jessamine were waiting for me, and deceiving them was absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible.

  I was suddenly grateful that Jessamine was gone. If she had been here to feel my anguish in the last five minutes, how could I have kept them in the dark? I fought back the fear, the horror, tried to force a lid on it all. I couldn’t afford to feel now. I didn’t know when she would be back.

  I tried to concentrate on my escape, then immediately realized that I couldn’t plan anything. I had to be undecided. No doubt Archie would see the change soon, if he hadn’t already. I couldn’t let him see how it happened. If it happened. How could I get away? Especially when I couldn’t even think about it.

  I wanted to go see what Archie had made of all this—if he’d seen any changes yet—but I knew I had to deal with one more thing alone before Jessamine got back.

  I had to accept that I would never see Edythe again. Not even one last look at her face to take with me to the mirror room. I was going to hurt her, and I couldn’t say goodbye. It was like being tortured. I burned in it for a minute, let it break me. And then I had to pull my shell together to go face Archie.

  The only expression I could manage was a blank, dead look, but I felt like that was understandable. I walked into the living room, my script ready to go.

  Archie was bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands. His face—

  At first the panic broke through my mask, and I jumped around the couch to get to him. While I was still in motion, I realized what he must be seeing. It brought me up short a few feet away from him.

  “Archie,” I said dully.

  He didn’t react when I called his name. His head rocked slowly from side to side. His expression brought the panic back again—maybe this wasn’t about me, maybe he was watching my mother.

  I took another step forward, reaching out to touch his arm.

  “Archie!” Jessamine’s voice whipped from the door, and then she was right behind Archie, her hands curling over his, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “What did you see?”

  He turned his empty face away from me, looking blindly into Jessamine’s eyes.

  “Beau,” he said.

  “I’m right here.”

  His head twisted, his eyes locked on mine, their expression still blank. I realized that he hadn’t been speaking to me—he’d been answering Jessamine’s question.

  22. HIDE-AND-SEEK

  “WHAT WAS IT?” I’D LOST CONTROL OF MY VOICE—IT WAS FLAT, UNCARING.

  Jessamine stared at me. I kept my expression vacant and waited. Her eyes flickered between Archie’s face and mine, feeling the chaos. I knew what Archie had seen.

  A peaceful atmosphere settled around me. I didn’t fight it. I used it to keep my emotions under control.

  Archie recovered, too. His face snapped back to its normal expression.

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice amazingly calm and convincing. “Just the same room as before.” He looked at me, focusing for the first time. “Did you want breakfast?”

  “I’ll eat at the airport.” I was calm, too. Almost like I was borrowing Jessamine’s extra sense, I could feel Archie’s well-concealed desperation to get me out of the room, so that he could be alone with her. So he could tell her that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail.

  Archie was still focused on me.

  “Is your mother all right?”

  I had to swallow back a throatful of bile. I could only follow the script I’d planned earlier.

  “My mom was worried,” I said in a monotone voice. “She wanted to come home. It’s okay. I convinced her to stay in Florida for now.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yes,” I agreed robotically.

  I turned and walked slowly to the bedroom, feeling their eyes following the whole way. I shut the door behind me, and then I did what I could. I showered and got dressed in clothes that fit me. I dug through the duffel bag until I found my sock full of money—I emptied it into my pocket.

  I stood there for a minute, staring at nothing, trying to think of things I was allowed to think about. I came up with one idea.

  I knelt by the little bedside table and opened the top drawer. Underneath the complimentary copy of the Bible, there was a stash of stationery and a pen. I took a sheet of paper and an envelope out of the drawer.

  “Edythe,” I wrote. My hand was shaking. The letters were barely legible.

  I love you.
>
  Sorry—again. So sorry.

  She has my mom, and I have to try. I know it may not work. I am so very, very sorry.

  Don’t be mad at Archie and Jessamine. If I get away from them it will be a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Archie especially.

  And please, please don’t come after her. That’s what she wants. I can’t stand it if anyone else has to be hurt because of me, especially you. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me.

  I’m not sorry that I met you. I’ll never be sorry that I love you.

  Forgive me.

  Beau.

  I folded the paper into thirds, and then sealed it into the envelope. Eventually she would find it. I hoped she would understand. I hoped she would forgive. And most of all, I hoped she would listen.

  When I walked back out to the living room, they were ready.

  I sat alone this time in the back of the car. Jessamine kept shooting glances at me in the mirror when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She kept me calm, which I appreciated.

  Archie leaned against the passenger door, his face pointed at Jessamine, but I knew he was watching me in his peripheral vision. How much had he seen? Was he expecting me to try something? Or was he focused on the tracker’s moves?

  “Archie?” I asked.

  He was wary. “Yes?”

  “I wrote a note for my mom,” I said slowly. “Would you give it to her? Leave it at the house, I mean?”

  “Of course, Beau.” His voice was careful—the way you spoke to someone standing on a ledge. They could both see me coming apart. I had to control myself better.

  We got to the airport quickly. Jessamine parked in the center of the garage’s fourth floor; the sun couldn’t reach this deep into the concrete block. We never had to leave the shadows as we made our way to the terminal. It was terminal four, the biggest one, the most confusing. Maybe that would help.

  I led the way, for once more knowledgeable about our surroundings than they were. We took the elevator down to level three, where the passengers unloaded. Archie and Jessamine spent a while looking at the departing flights board. I could hear them discussing the pros and cons of New York, Atlanta, Chicago. Places I’d never been. Places where I would never go, now.