VI. When You're a Stranger
The others have always found it remarkable that someone like her, who has no memory of being human, has chosen the life she has. Sometimes it seems strange even to her. But even though she can hardly identify with them at all, she cannot see humans as nothing but prey. She watches the complex motions of their short lives and sees the great mistakes they will make, the things they will find out too late, the losses they will have to endure. They are such weak things. But they are beautiful. She does not have the envy for them that Rosalie has, but perhaps some kind of unique understanding of their world. They are so different and fascinating in their fragility.
She only knows people she encounters everywhere from afar, but could tell them things about themselves they have no idea about. Perhaps she is drawn to them through an instinct to have something reciprocated - something, some day, given to her from them that she cannot give herself. Because they are her past. They are what she does not have.
And this is what is missing, the thing that still makes her feel such a long distance away from their world even as she knows so much more about it than most of the others in her family. They will always still be strange to her, because she is a stranger to herself.