She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to have to move the wedding indoors. . . .
“I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it seemed silly. And then he called my name.
“‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.
“I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men.
“‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold, you’ve kept us waiting so long.’”
“I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger.
“He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.
“‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?’
“The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was buying.
“‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’
“They laughed, Royce like the rest.
“Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass buttons off. They scattered all over the street.
“‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain. . . .”
Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers. Unless it was green.
“I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride. He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first.
“I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn’t dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long. . . .
“Carlisle found me then. He’d smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I’d never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother — as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that the men were. But they didn’t mingle in society, so I’d only seen them once or twice.
“I thought I’d died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me — because of the speed — it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn’t stop. . . .
“Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he’d brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn’t care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn’t believe him. He apologized each time I screamed.
“Edward wasn’t happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream.
“‘What were you thinking, Carlisle?’ Edward said. ‘Rosalie Hale?’” Rosalie imitated Edward’s irritated tone to perfection. “I didn’t like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me.
“‘I couldn’t just let her die,’ Carlisle said quietly. ‘It was too much — too horrible, too much waste.’
“‘I know,’ Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn’t know then that he really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen.
“‘It was too much waste. I couldn’t leave her,’ Carlisle repeated in a whisper.
“‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Esme agreed.
“‘People die all the time,’ Edward reminded him in a hard voice. ‘Don’t you think she’s just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend,’ he growled.