The hospital room smelled faintly of bleach and bad Jell-O. Bella and I were propped up on adjacent beds, IV poles standing like awkward chaperones. Charlie loomed at the foot of mine, arms crossed, radiating full Dad Mode.
Tyler, pale and sweating, hovered in the doorway, repeating "sorry, sorry, sorry" like a skipping CD.
"Shut up, Tyler," I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead. "My head hurts enough already."
"Right, yeah, sorry," he said again, then clamped his mouth shut.
The door swung open. In walked Carlisle calm, polished, perfect as ever with Lucien right behind him. My stomach did a little unnecessary flip. Great. Just what I needed. Handsome mystery guy at my bedside. Why is he even here? He looks good enough to make a statue self-conscious, but still. Why?
He didn't hesitate. He was at my side in two strides, gently brushing hair back from my forehead like I'd just fought in a war.
"You scared me half to death," he said lowly, voice tight.
I gave him a tight smile. "Relax. I'm fine. The truck didn't even touch me. Honestly, Tyler's apology is the real threat to my health right now."
"sorry" Tyler squeaked.
Charlie, who'd been silent and simmering by the wall, suddenly narrowed his eyes like a cop catching someone with their hand in the cookie jar. His jaw set.
"And who exactly are you?"
The entire room froze. Bella blinked, Tyler shut his mouth for once, and Lucien straightened, caught in the beam of Charlie Swan's suspicious dad spotlight.
Carlisle, smooth as ever, stepped in before Lucien could answer.
"This is Lucien," he said easily. "My younger brother. He came along when he heard there'd been an accident."
Charlie's frown deepened. His cop instincts were practically screaming.
"Younger brother, huh? And how does my daughter know him already?"
I shot Lucien a quick look. His lips twitched like he wanted to say something but left it to me. I swallowed hard, pasted on my most innocent smile, and said, "Not now, charlie . I'll explain later."
Charlie's gaze swung back to me, suspicious and very much not satisfied. His dad-radar was pinging so loud it practically rattled the hospital bed.
Carlisle's examination was quick. "You're both fine," he said with a reassuring smile. "No injuries. Just shock."
Bella let out a breath. "Thanks to Edward," she said dreamily, cheeks pink.
The room went quiet. Edward wasn't even there.
Charlie turned, squinting at Carlisle. "Your son?"
Carlisle's smile froze for the briefest second. "Excuse me," he said smoothly, sidestepping the question like an Olympic gymnast.
I almost laughed out loud. Edward wasn't here. Edward didn't save anyone. Edward, in fact, was too busy posing dramatically in front of thin air. Flopward strikes again.
Lucien, meanwhile, took a step closer to my bed, his voice low, concerned. "Do you need anything?"
I blinked at him. Why are you here? You don't even go here. You look unfairly good standing under hospital fluorescents, but still…
"I'm fine," I said quickly.
Charlie cut in, firm. "If you need something, I'll get it. You don't have to rely on anyone else." His cop-dad stare practically bored holes into Lucien's head.
Lucien's mouth twitched into a polite, tight-lipped smile. He inclined his head once, then stepped back.
"Thanks for coming," I murmured, softer, though I wasn't sure if I was thanking Carlisle, Lucien, or the universe for not letting me blurt something dumb.
Carlisle ushered Lucien out, leaving behind Bella still glowing about her imaginary rescuer, Charlie suspicious, and me staring at the door like it had just swallowed my last bit of peace.
Charlie was busy filling out a stack of hospital forms, muttering under his breath about "bureaucracy" and "wasted ink," when Bella and I slipped out into the hallway.
That's when we saw them.
Edward. Rosalie. Carlisle. And Lucien.
The Cullens clustered together like a Renaissance painting beautiful, dramatic, and somehow out of place under flickering fluorescent lights. Rosalie looked about two seconds away from committing homicide, her voice low and sharp, aimed directly at Edward. Carlisle's tone was calm but firm, trying to rein her in.
Yeah, Rosalie, slap that Flopward. Please. Do it for humanity.
Carlisle noticed us first. His eyes flicked to Bella and me, and in an instant the conversation cut short. The Cullens turned in unison to look at us.
I waved, plastering on the friendliest smile I could manage.
No smiles came back. Not from Edward, not from Rosalie, not even from Carlisle.
Only Lucien offered me the faintest curve of a smile the kind that looked more like a secret than a greeting.
Bella tugged on my arm, pulling me toward them like she was heading into the lion's den willingly. "Come on."
I resisted. "Do we have to?"
"Yes," she hissed.
So we walked up.
Carlisle said something low to Rosalie something meant to pull her back from turning Edward into vampire dust. Her glare lingered like a curse before she finally pivoted on her heel, following Carlisle down the hall.
That left four of us: Bella, me, Edward, and Lucien.
Great. The vampire edition of a Mexican standoff.
Bella went first, her voice firm. "How did you get there so fast?"
Edward's jaw flexed. "I was right there."
"No," Bella shot back, sharper this time. "You weren't."
"Yes, I was," he said, his tone velvet but gritted with irritation. "Can't you just say thank you?"
Bella bit her lip, clearly annoyed. "Fine. Thank you."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, silently questioning every single life choice that had landed me in Forks, in this hallway, with Flopward trying to gaslight Bella about superhero stunts that never happened.
Then Lucien spoke. Smooth. Controlled. His eyes found mine like a spotlight. "Maybe you didn't catch it," he said to Bella, though his gaze stayed locked on me. "But Edward did come to you. He saved you both."
"Oh, no," I snapped before Bella could start swooning. "I was right there. Edward was standing across the parking lot. Making goo-goo eyes at Bella.He didn't save us from anything. The truck stopped on its own. If he did save anyone, it was from… air."
Edward's perfect face tightened. Bella shifted between us, looking like she was about to faint from secondhand embarrassment.
Lucien didn't blink. His voice dipped, low and commanding. "Maybe you just didn't notice him."
For a second, the air thickened, like the weight of his words should've pressed me down, bent me to his version of events.
But it didn't.
My temper flared hot and steady. I met his stare head-on, my voice like ice. "I know what I saw. And I don't need your version or Flopward's to rewrite reality for me. I'm not asking how Edward got there. I'm saying he wasn't. End of story."
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Bella looked between us nervously, Edward glowered, and Lucien…
Lucien's head tilted, his golden eyes on me, steady and sharp. The weight of his presence pressed against the air itself something cold, commanding, like a predator reminding everyone exactly where they stood in the food chain. Edward stiffened beside him, shoulders bowing slightly under a pressure I couldn't feel.
But me?
Nothing.
Lucien's smile flickered, gone almost before it appeared. His eyes lingered on me, sharp and assessing, as if realizing for the first time that whatever power he usually held over people… bounced off me completely.
I met Lucien's stare head-on, my chin lifting, my voice clear. "I know what I saw. And I don't need your tricks, or his excuses, to change it."
For the first time, Lucien's smile slipped. His dominance, whatever invisible string he'd tugged, had failed to reach me. The moment stretched, taut and humming. Edward shifted uncomfortably under the weight that wasn't even directed at him anymore.
Then Lucien's lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw ticking once. He turned his gaze on Edward, sharp as a blade, fury barely leashed.
I turned on my heel and stalked off down the hall, the squeak of my shoes echoing far louder than I wanted in the sterile quiet. Bella muttered a rushed apology to Edward, her voice soft and guilt ridden, before hurrying after me like a loyal shadow who hadn't yet figured out she was chasing the wrong star.
Behind us, Edward stood there, brooding harder than I thought was humanly or inhumanly possible. His arms stiff at his sides, jaw clenched, every ounce of him trying to project tortured mystery when all I saw was a constipated statue.
And Lucien?
Who cares.
Really. Who cares if his eyes were burning holes into my back like he'd just discovered a puzzle piece that didn't fit, or if his perfect jaw ticked like he was swallowing down words he didn't want Edward to hear. Who cares if his presence still clung to the hallway, heavy and suffocating, like I'd just walked out of a cage I hadn't realized I was in.
I didn't care.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself with every step I put between us.
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