The first sunlight of Forks spilled through the guest room window, pale and diffused. Rowan wrapped her hands around a warm cup of coffee, staring at the walls, feeling the weight of the last few weeks pressing in. Her parents were gone, her life upended, and now… this. Another world. Another set of impossible rules.
Charlie knocked gently at the door. "Morning. Ready to get started today?"
Rowan sighed, trying to steady herself. "As ready as I'll ever be."
He smiled faintly. "Good. I talked to a few people at the high school and its library. You can help the librarian, maybe assist some teachers. It's not much, but it'll get you out of the house, keep your mind busy."
Rowan nodded and sighed. "Busy… sounds good."
---
The library smelled of old books and polished wood. .
Mrs. Anders, the librarian, greeted her with a warm smile. "Charlie said you could help us around here. We're glad to have you."
Rowan moved among the stacks, tidying, shelving, helping students.
Then she began to notice certain things.
Plants perked up in the sunlight as she passed. The students felt calmer, their voices softer. Even the library cat seemed immediately taken to her. She blinked. 'What is happening?'
And then the Cullens kids began trickling in.
First, it was Alice and Jasper. Alice flitted through the aisles, her pixie-like energy barely contained. She paused at the end of a shelf, eyes wide, glazed.
"You're… unusual," she whispered, voice almost breathless. "I'm… I'm not sure what I'm seeing yet, but… it's big."
Jasper leaned casually against the doorway, quiet and composed. He seemed calmer, happier than she remembered in canon.
"I don't get it," Alice said, spinning slightly in place, "but I will. I have to. Something about you… it matters."
Jasper nodded once, subtle, observant. "I'll keep an eye on you." When he felt her spike of anxiety at his words, "Don't worry about me."
Later in the week, Emmett and Rosalie stopped by. Emmett leaned against a table, grinning. "Library girl, huh? You're… interesting. And no, that's not just the caffeine talking."
Rowan nearly said, 'But you don't drink coffee, Emmett.'
Rosalie's arms were crossed, eyes sharp.
"You're different," Rosalie said quietly, almost to herself. "But… I like it." She frowned as if she disagreed with her own sentiment.
Emmett chuckled. "Yeah, she's got something. Can't put my finger on it, but it's… fun."
And then, quietly, Edward appeared alone, lingering near the far shelves, pale and still. He observed her with a focus that made her pulse quicken. She had expected him to scan her thoughts immediately, but he couldn't if his almost constipated expression said anything.
"You're… not what I expected," Edward murmured finally, voice low.
Through it all, an echo of Charlie's voice in the back of her mind: 'You're okay. You're safe. Just breathe.'
And even as she organized books, answered questions, and helped students, Rowan felt it again—the faint but undeniable pull of someone far away, powerful, ancient, and impossible.