Chapter Text
Zoe lay stretched across her bed, one arm propped beneath her head, the other holding a plush giraffe just out of Jenna’s reach. The baby squealed with delight, kicking her feet as she tried to grab it, tiny hands batting the air with impressive determination.
Zoe grinned, her dark curls tumbling forward as she lowered the toy, letting Jenna catch it. “Victory,” she murmured. “Hard-earned and well deserved.”
Jenna babbled, hugging the giraffe like it was the greatest thing in the world.
On the floor, Bella sat cross-legged against the wardrobe, watching them with a soft smile.
“She’s getting so big,” Bella said quietly. “You’re really good with her.”
Zoe shrugged one shoulder. “She’s not that hard to impress. I mean, I’m giving her a stuffed animal and making weird noises. It’s not high-level childcare.”
“You’re still good,” Bella said, then added, “She’s happiest with you.”
Zoe didn’t answer at first. She just reached over and gently brushed a dark curl away from Jenna’s face. The baby grabbed her finger and wouldn’t let go. Jenna’s chubby fingers, as they usually did, quickly found their way to Damon’s bracelet, as if she could sense that someone who cared about her mother had given her the accessory.
Bella watched the quiet exchange for a moment, then spoke. “How’s… everything? With school? And—” she hesitated, “—them?”
Zoe rolled her eyes dramatically, flopping back onto the bed like the weight of the Cullens’ return had physically struck her.
“Oh, you mean the Brady Bunch?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “They’re back. And tragically, so is their habit of popping up everywhere I don’t want them.”
Bella snorted. “They’re trying.”
“They had six months to try,” Zoe shot back. “They didn’t call. Didn’t write. Didn’t show up at my funeral. Didn’t send a single damn bat-signal when everything fell apart.”
“You didn’t have—”
“Figurative funeral,” Zoe muttered. “Emotional death. It counts.”
Bella let that sit for a moment, then asked softly, “Is there… any version of this where you could be a little less... you know…”
“Hostile?” Zoe offered helpfully.
“I was going to say ‘guarded.’”
“Tomato, tomahto.” Zoe grinned without humor. “Hostile’s my new natural setting. Like resting witch face, but with extra bite.”
Bella smiled faintly. “I’m not saying you have to forgive them. Just… maybe give yourself some space to breathe. You’re not alone anymore.”
Zoe looked at her, the sarcasm draining just a little. “That’s the problem, Bells. Being alone was easier. Now they’re all back and poking around like nothing changed.”
“But it did.”
“Exactly,” Zoe said quietly. “They left. And I’m not the same girl they left behind. She died in this bed six months ago.”
Bella flinched as Zoe's candor.
Jenna cooed, tugging on Zoe’s sleeve. Zoe smiled and gently lifted her, holding her close. Jenna settled against her chest, calm and warm.
Bella watched them for a moment before saying, “I just don’t want you to be at war with everyone. You’ve been through enough.”
“I’m not at war,” Zoe snorted. “I know what that feels like, remember.” She shook her head. “I’m just... keeping the drawbridge up until further notice.”
Bella huffed a quiet laugh and let her head fall back against the wardrobe. “You really should’ve been born in another century.”
Zoe smirked. “I’m timeless, babe.”
Neither of them heard the creak on the porch floorboards outside Zoe’s window. But Edward stood there, still as stone, half-shadowed by the overhang. He hadn’t meant to stay this long—hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.
But hearing Zoe speak—hearing the pain behind her biting tone, the edge in her voice—made it harder to walk away.
He didn’t know who Zoe was anymore.
But he was starting to understand why she had walls around her.
And now, more than ever, he wanted to know what she was guarding behind them.
Rosalie had heard plenty about Jenna Clark around town.
Forks wasn’t a place that kept secrets easily, but this one had curiously stayed intact—at least on the surface. The narrative held: Charlie Swan had taken in his cousin’s baby after her tragic death, and Zoe, the cousin closest to the deceased, helped out like any devoted teenage girl would.
But something didn’t add up. The biggest red flag, to Rosalie at least, was that Bella didn’t even trust Edward around the child.
Rosalie hadn’t voiced her opinion—yet. But to her, it meant Bella would never really be one of them.
Still, she played the part. Groceries they’d never eat, pretending to argue about brands, tossing snack food into the cart with practiced ease. Emmett was pushing it down the dairy aisle when Rosalie stopped dead in her tracks.
“Em,” she said sharply.
He looked up—and froze too.
There they were. The Swan-Clark family.
Bella was pushing a half-full cart. Zoe, dressed in black and boots, reached up for a carton of milk with one hand. Charlie stood beside them, the baby on his hip, eyes soft as he bounced her gently.
Rosalie and Emmett stared, caught mid-step.
It had been weeks since Rosalie had seen Zoe up close outside of class. Months since she’d seen Chief Swan in anything other than a passing patrol car. Bella had made it clear the Cullen family was no longer welcome in the Swan home, and Zoe seemed to vanish whenever one of them came near.
It was Bella who noticed them first. Rosalie caught it—barely—thanks to vampiric hearing.
“Dad, Zo,” she murmured, barely above a breath.
Charlie glanced up first, following her gaze. Zoe followed half a second later.
The moment held—a frozen, strange standoff in the fluorescent chill of the dairy section.
Zoe broke the tension first, slipping a carton of milk into the cart with a too-smooth smile. “Bella, look. Your friends.” Her voice was honey-coated sarcasm. “What a lovely coincidence.”
Bella shifted awkwardly. “Uh, hi, Emmett. Rosalie.”
She gave a small wave.
Charlie’s grip on Jenna subtly tightened. His jaw flexed.
Rosalie couldn’t look away from the baby. She was beautiful. Rosalie was sure that whoever this baby's mother was, she had to look like Zoe Clark. She didn't miss the way Charlie’s entire stance radiated protectiveness. He didn’t know about them—but he knew enough to be suspicious.
“Hi, Bells,” Emmett said easily. He rounded the cart and offered a smile. “Zoe. Chief. And this must be Jenna.” He looked down at the baby, then back up. “Alice and Edward mentioned you were taking care of your cousin’s baby, Chief.”
Charlie gave a tight smile. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Lot of girls in the house, huh?”
“You could say that,” Charlie said, his tone flat.
“Here,” Zoe cut in smoothly, her voice suddenly bright. “I can take life sucker, Uncle Charlie. Go grab the beef you like—y’know, the stuff Bella always forgets.” She didn’t wait for an answer, already moving to scoop the baby up. Charlie didn’t resist.
Rosalie’s eyes locked on the baby.
“She’s beautiful,” she said softly. Her voice wasn’t performative. It was… wistful. “How old is she?”
“Almost six months,” Charlie answered, lingering.
“She looks like you,” Rosalie said to Zoe, a wistful smile curling her lips.
Zoe didn’t return it. Her own smile was clinical. “My cousin and I could pass as twins,” she lied easily. “Same hair. Same eyes. Strong genes.” She turned to Charlie, her voice sweet again. “Uncle Charlie, your keys? I want to grab the stroller.”
“Course.” Charlie passed them over, his eyes never leaving Emmett.
“I can help,” Emmett offered, already stepping forward.
“That’s really not necessary,” Zoe said tightly, but Emmett just smiled and kept walking beside her.
Bella caught Zoe’s exasperated look and shrugged. Her eyes said: I didn’t invite them.
Zoe rolled her eyes and pushed through the exit toward the car.
Charlie’s cruiser was easy to spot. Zoe popped the trunk and balanced Jenna against her chest.
“How’ve you been?” Emmett asked casually, stepping to her side.
“I’m at school, aren’t I?” Zoe said flatly. “You see me in Trig.”
“Barely,” Emmett replied. “You don’t exactly linger after class. And you seem to slip in just as the bell rings every morning.”
“Maybe I’ve just got places to be.” Zoe shifted Jenna to her other arm. “Ever think of that?”
As she spoke, Zoe kept her focus on the task at hand. She pulled out the folded stroller and set it on the ground. Emmett moved forward instinctively, but she beat him to it—pressing a button to release the frame. It popped open with a satisfying snap.
She placed Jenna inside, adjusting the blanket and pulling the shade down until her face was hidden.
“That was quick,” Emmett said lightly. “You’re good at this.”
“It’s not exactly rocket science.”
He fell into step beside her as she started back toward the store.
“We need diapers,” she said pointedly.
“I’ll walk with you.”
Zoe didn’t respond. She grabbed a pack of wipes and moved on.
“You know, you were my friend,” Emmett said suddenly. “We all were. Back then.”
Zoe stopped walking. She turned to face him, slowly. “We were?”
Emmett met her eyes. “Zoe—”
“You mean back before you changed your number and ghosted the entire town? Back before Bella lost ten pounds from heartbreak and couldn’t get out of bed for weeks?”
Emmett’s expression twisted. “It wasn’t my choice.”
“Wasn’t it?” Zoe asked, eyes sharp. “Because I remember calling. Texting. Trying to get answers. And all I got was radio silence.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Exactly,” she snapped. “You didn’t want to know.” She stepped closer. “You all left. Left her. Left me. And now you’re back, and what? You want to be friends again? Babysit Jenna on weekends? Pretend none of it happened?”
Emmett opened his mouth, but Zoe cut him off.
“Once burned, twice shy. You may have Bella’s forgiveness, but not mine. And not Charlie’s.”
“Tell that to Edward—”
“I’m telling it to you, ” Zoe said coldly. “Stay away from me. From Charlie. From Jenna. I can’t control Bella. But the rest of us? We’re off-limits.”
Emmett stared at her.
Then—just for a moment—his expression flickered. He leaned in slightly, nostrils flaring. Like he was catching something in the air.
Zoe stiffened.
She knew that look.
He stepped back, face unreadable.
It was closer to the way he remembered her scent—his maker, his other Zoe. But this was different. Wilder. Sharper. Spicier—like herbs and cinnamon and danger. It clung to his senses like smoke. Familiar, and yet entirely foreign. A warning wrapped in nostalgia.
“I mean it, Emmett,” she said, voice like ice.
Then she turned the stroller around and walked away—without looking back.
The rain tapped steadily against the windows as the Cullen children gathered in Carlisle’s study, one by one.
Edward stood near the fireplace, arms folded, face unreadable. Alice lingered by the bookcases, not her usual fidgety self—her hands were still, her expression tight. Emmett dropped onto the edge of the leather armchair across from Carlisle’s desk, and Jasper leaned against the far wall, unusually quiet.
Rosalie remained near the door, arms crossed, guarded.
Carlisle looked up from his notes as they settled into the silence.
“You’ve all noticed it too,” Edward said softly, breaking the tension.
Carlisle set his pen down. “Zoe.” What else would cause him children to gather like this anymore?
Emmett nodded. “Her scent is different.”
Carlisle raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“It’s not human anymore,” Emmett said. “Not entirely. It’s… off. Closer to how she smelled.” His voice softened, reverent. “The other Zoe. The one who turned me. But different—spicier. Wilder. There’s something else in it. Something wrong. ”
Jasper glanced at him, then added, “Her heartbeat. It’s changed too.”
“How?”
“Slower. Inconsistent. Like it’s fighting itself,” Jasper said. “I couldn’t pin it down at first, but now… I’d bet on it. Her heart’s not like any human’s.”
Alice finally spoke, her voice lower than usual. “And I saw her.”
Carlisle looked up sharply at the mention of Alice's vision. “You’re sure? It hasn’t changed?”
Alice nodded, her gaze distant. “Clear as day. She walked into the Swan house like she belonged there. Calm. No hesitation. And then she…” Alice swallowed. “She killed Bella. Then Charlie. Took the baby. Walked right out.”
The room went still.
Rosalie’s breath hitched. “No. That wasn’t her. Zoe wouldn’t do that. She wouldn't do that. Not to her family.”
“I know what I saw,” Alice said. “I’m not saying it was Zoe. But whoever it was looked exactly like her. And this time, there wasn’t that usual fog. No blank space. No distortion. It was focused—frighteningly so.”
“You’ve never been able to see Zoe before,” Jasper said slowly. “So why now?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself,” Alice murmured. “It’s like the vision finally slipped through something. Like whatever was shielding her… cracked.”
Carlisle leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed. “Something’s changed,” he said quietly. “And not just with her vision. With all of it.”
Edward stepped forward. “I’ve been listening. Quietly. And Bella and Charlie—both of them are guarding something. Something big. The story about Jenna? It’s rehearsed. Too smooth. And Zoe’s changed, not just physically. She’s different. Cold. Closed off.”
Rosalie looked at Carlisle then. “You’ve been quiet.”
Carlisle hesitated. Then stood and walked over to a locked drawer in his desk. He pulled out a folder and set it on the table.
“I looked into Jenna’s records,” he said softly. “What I found… isn’t conclusive. But it certainly raises questions.”
He flipped open the folder. Inside were printed documents—copies of public records, hospital forms, and immunization charts.
“There’s a birth certificate filed here in Forks,” Carlisle explained. “For a Jenna Bonnie Clark. Born six months ago. But the birth certificate is incomplete—no mother’s birthdate, no father listed. It was filed two weeks after the date of birth.”
“Home birth?” Edward guessed.
Carlisle nodded. “Supposedly. The listed mother is Lois Clark. There’s no Lois Clark on file in Forks or Mystic Falls with matching age records. I checked.”
“Could be an alias,” Jasper said.
Carlisle flipped to another sheet. “The baby is listed as Zoe’s cousin’s daughter. But there’s no death certificate for the supposed mother. Just a vague local obituary about an unnamed 'young woman who passed unexpectedly.' No photo. No funeral.”
He pulled out the immunization record next. “And this—this is what truly alarmed me. The vaccine logs don’t match up. Some of the codes are invalid. Others are real but outdated. Whoever filled this out didn’t know the current vaccination coding system.”
Rosalie took a step forward. “So what does that mean?”
Carlisle closed the folder.
“It means someone created this record to pass inspection—but not under scrutiny. It’s a patchwork lie.”
They all sat with that a moment.
“Charlie wouldn’t be part of that,” Emmett said slowly. “Would he?”
“I think he would,” Edward said grimly. “To protect them.” He sighed, glancing toward the window like he could see the Swan house from there. “Charlie’s not just a cop. He’s a father. And I think he’d go farther than anyone gives him credit for… especially when it comes to the three girls he's responsible for. The girls he loves.”
“So what is she?” Jasper asked.
No one answered at first.
Carlisle looked toward the window, where the storm had thickened. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “But whatever she is… it’s not what she used to be. And we need to know what we’re dealing with— before spring. ”
The door slammed harder than it needed to.
Zoe’s boots hit the floor in heavy steps as she stalked into the kitchen, a message still glowing on her phone. Bella glanced up from the table where she was feeding Jenna a bottle, and Charlie, reading a well-worn paperback, raised an eyebrow.
“You good?” Bella asked cautiously.
Zoe tossed her phone down with a muttered curse. “Tell your future father-in-law to keep his nose out of my business.”
Bella blinked. “Carlisle?”
“Bingo.”
Charlie closed his book, frowning. “What happened?”
“One of my contacts at the hospital—the nurse I compelled to notify me—just texted. Jenna’s records were accessed today. Birth certificate, immunization logs, even emergency contact fields.”
Bella’s eyes widened. “You compelled someone to spy on her medical file?”
“Obviously,” Zoe snapped, pacing the kitchen. “Do you think I left a paper trail without a failsafe? This whole town believes a sanitized version of the truth, and now the undead doctor wants to play detective.”
Charlie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “What exactly did the nurse say?”
“That someone logged in using an authorized ID to look at Jenna’s full file. No edits, just viewing. But the access was flagged. I left a... suggestion that anyone snooping would feel inclined to report it.”
Bella gently rocked Jenna as she processed that. “You think Carlisle’s getting suspicious?”
Zoe gave her a sharp look. “I know he is. I could smell it on Emmett at the store. You think he just felt like reminiscing in the diaper aisle?”
Bella flinched. “They’re trying to piece things together.”
“They’re going to break it,” Zoe muttered, voice tight. “And when they do, it’s not just my secret that blows up. It’s Jenna’s safety. It’s all of us.”
Charlie stood and set his newspaper aside. “You girls need to be careful,” he said. His voice was quiet, but the kind of quiet that meant don’t ignore this. “Watch what you say. Where you say it.” He turned to Zoe. “And watch who you feed around.”
Zoe’s jaw clenched. She nodded once, tight. “I’m not sloppy.”
“I know,” Charlie said. “But they’re watching now. All of them. And Carlisle Cullen may be a doctor, but he’s no fool. You look like someone he loved and lost. That alone is reason enough for him to keep digging.”
Bella bit her lip. “What do we do?”
Zoe picked up her phone, hands steady now. “We lay low. We don’t give them anything. And we remind them—gently—that whatever secrets they’re chasing…” She glanced at Jenna, sleeping soundly in her arms. “They’re not theirs to find.”