New Moon (Twilight Saga #2)(114)
"Alice?" My voice was weak. "What happened?" I asked, even though I didn't want to hear.
"I don't know," she suddenly wailed. "What is he thinking?!"
I labored to pull myself up despite the dizziness. I realized it was Jacob's arm I was gripping for balance. He was the one shaking, not the couch.
Alice was pulling a small silver phone from her bag when my eyes relocated her. Her fingers dialed the numbers so fast they were a blur.
"Rose, I need to talk to Carlisle now." Her voice whipped through the words. "Fine, as soon as he's back. No, I'll be on a plane. Look, have you heard anything from Edward?"
Alice paused now, listening with an expression that grew more appalled every second. Her mouth opened into a little O of horror, and the phone shook in her hand.
"Why?" she gasped. "Why would you do that, Rosalie?"
Whatever the answer was, it made her jaw tighten in anger. Her eyes flashed and narrowed.
"Well, you're wrong on both counts, though, Rosalie, so that would be a problem, don't you think?" she asked acidly. "Yes, that's right. She's absolutely fine-I was wrong . . . It's a long story . . . But you're wrong about that part, too, that's why I'm calling . . . Yes, that's exactly what I saw."
Alice's voice was very hard and her lips were pulled back from her teeth. "It's a bit late for that, Rose. Save your remorse for someone who believes it." Alice snapped the phone shut with a sharp twist of her fingers.
Her eyes were tortured as she turned to face me.
"Alice," I blurted out quickly. I couldn't let her speak yet. I needed a few more seconds before she spoke and her words destroyed what was left of my life. "Alice, Carlisle is back, though. He called just before . . ."
She stared at me blankly. "How long ago?" she asked in a hollow voice.
"Half a minute before you showed up."
"What did he say?" She really focused now, waiting for my answer.
"I didn't talk to him." My eyes flickered to Jacob.
Alice turned her penetrating gaze on him. He flinched, but held his place next to me. He sat awkwardly, almost as if he were trying to shield me with his body.
"He asked for Charlie, and I told him Charlie wasn't here," Jacob muttered resentfully.
"Is that everything?" Alice demanded, her voice like ice.
"Then he hung up on me," Jacob spit back. A tremor rolled down his spine, shaking me with it.
"You told him Charlie was at the funeral," I reminded him.
Alice jerked her head back toward me. "What were his exact words?"
"He said, 'He's not here,' and when Carlisle asked where Charlie was, Jacob said, 'At the funeral.'"
Alice moaned and sank to her knees.
"Tell me, Alice," I whispered.
"That wasn't Carlisle on the phone," she said hopelessly.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Jacob snarled from beside me.
Alice ignored him, focusing on my bewildered face.
"It was Edward." The words were just a choked whisper. "He thinks you're dead."
My mind started to work again. These words weren't the ones I'd been afraid of, and the relief cleared my head.
"Rosalie told him I killed myself, didn't she?" I said, sighing as I relaxed.
"Yes," Alice admitted, her eyes flashing hard again. "In her defense, she did believe it. They rely on my sight far too much for something that works so imperfectly. But for her to track him down to tell him this! Didn't she realize . . . or care . . . ?" Her voice faded away in horror.
"And when Edward called here, he thought Jacob meant my funeral," I realized. It stung to know how close I'd been, just inches away from his voice. My nails dug into Jacob's arm, but he didn't flinch.
Alice looked at me strangely. "You're not upset," she whispered.
"Well, it's really rotten timing, but it will all get straightened out. The next time he calls, someone will tell him . . . what . . . really . . ." I trailed off. Her gaze strangled the words in my throat.
Why was she so panicked? Why was her face twisting now with pity and horror? What was it she had said to Rosalie on the phone just now? Something about what she'd seen . . . and Rosalie's remorse; Rosalie would never feel remorse for anything that happened to me. But if she'd hurt her family, hurt her brother . . .
"Bella," Alice whispered. "Edward won't call again. He believed her."
"I. Don't. Understand." My mouth framed each word in silence. I couldn't push the air out to actually say the words that would make her explain what that meant.
"He's going to Italy."
It took the length of one heartbeat for me to comprehend.
When Edward's voice came back to me now, it was not the perfect imitation of my delusions. It was just the weak, flat tone of my memories. But the words alone were enough to shred through my chest and leave it gaping open. Words from a time when I would have bet everything that I owned or could borrow on that fact that he loved me.