Disclaimer- Stephenie Meyer owns, not me.

I sat in my desk cubicle, while a woman named Nancy Redcorn in New Mexico screamed at me about how her computer wasn't loading the way she wanted. I hated this job. With a passion. But, it was a job. I was desperately searching for another, but anything that paid 30K in Forks was slim pickings. I couldn't tell this woman to shut up or interrupt her, lest my quality score went down with my supervisor in the 1 in 30 chance she was listening. I had already failed one call this month, I couldn't afford to fail another or I'd fail my overall stats.

My vision blurred for a moment, and I felt almost dizzy, then a numbness across my body. My fingers didn't feel like my own. I panicked, but my head told me, Keep it together, Bella, it's unprofessional and you can't fuck up another call. You can't lose this job in an economy like this until you write a book worth publishing.

"Are you still there?" the woman snapped. I opened my mouth to tell her yes, I was, but my mouth couldn't form the words. Finally, I forced it out. Her toned softened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…" I replied. That's all I could say.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Go get yourself checked out by a doctor."

"I'm…" I realized I could read the screen, but it didn't make sense to me. I had had spells like this, but didn't think too much of it. I had just gone to work and tried to get through the week. I put myself into offline, although my boss would get pissed off.

I had to take a break. Everytime this happened to me this week, if I just took a break, it would go away and I could speak again and everything went back to normal. I logged out for a break, although it wasn't my turn for one. In the cafeteria, I bought a decaff and bag of Cheetos to calm down.

I sat down and waited for the numbness and the buzzing to go away. It didn't. My break was nearing being up. I had forgotten my cell phone today. I needed to call Charlie. This wasn't normal. I hugged my knees. But, I had forgotten my phone.

Somebody on my team had to have one. I went over to Karen's desk and pointed to her cell phone.

"Hey, Bella," she said, muting her headset.

"I… can…"

"Bella, are you okay?"

I nodded, out of habit. "Bella, talk to me," she said.

I couldn't. "Bella, just sit down- Mr. Brown, I'm sorry, there's an emergency, I have to go," she said. I was embarrassed- I couldn't believe she was hanging up on customers because of me. I reached for her arm, but I couldn't say anything. "Sit tight!" she said. "I'll be right back!"

She ran to her supervisor, said something I couldn't hear, who came to me and took me to a small meeting room. He was a Quileute, somebody Jacob knew, but hadn't been close friends with him.

"Bella, are you feeling faint?" he asked. I shook my head. "No? Can you breathe?" I thought for a moment, and nodded. "Did you hit your head?" I shook my head.

A group of people came running into the small meeting room with medical rooms. "Here she is…" he said. They started taking my blood pressure and asking questions that I could hardly register, taking notes. I was horrified when the EMTs came in the room, taking my temperature, blood pressure, hemoglobin count. I purposefully avoided the ER because Carlisle worked there. He had been like a father to me all those years ago, and then, his nephew, who I had been madly in love with, had broken up with me when we went our separate ways in college.

"We called your father at the Police Station," Karen said.

Oh no. Charlie was going to come running and probably kill me for scaring him. I was going to be fine... right?

The EMTs rolled me out to the ambulance infront of all the cubicles on the floor. Everyone stood up to see me and stared.

I was horrified. They could have walked me out like a normal person, but the company was afraid of liability. Of course, big giant corporations were afraid of getting sued, the big dumb bastards.

In the ambulance, they turned on the siren. I was ever so thankful that I was hidden inside it. I tuned out the noise and tried to think of what had really happened. I had no idea.

I was wheeled into the ER, strapped down to the gurney. The ER hadn't changed much since I stopped having accidents that required medical attention every five minutes in high school. The same white walls with blue stripes across the ceilings and generic paintings and photographs. Charlie met me at the Triage. "Bella, what happened?" he asked. I opened my mouth, but couldn't answer.

They wheeled me into a cubicle sectioned off by a curtain. I was feeling a bit disoriented at this point, but uninjured. My fingers and limbs felt a little numb, still. I couldn't write information. Charlie sat with me, filling out forms.

"Can I get something for you to read?" he asked. I shook my head. I could read, but I couldn't contemplate sentences.

The nurse took my temperature and my blood pressure and listened to me breathe.

"Miss Swan, the doctor will be in to see you in a minute," she said. "We'll probably send you for a CT scan to see if there's been some kind of brain trauma you don't remember getting."

Charlie rattled on nervously. "Maybe it's a migraine. Or a panic attack. You had some anxiety attacks in college, didn't you?"

I shrugged and waited.

I hadn't slept much the night before. I began to nod off and then, Charlie shook me awake. "Bells?" he asked. "The doctor's here."

I opened my eyes and looked into the most familiar set emerald green eyes. And unruly bronze hair.

And I seethed.

Of all the doctors to see me in the ER.

Edward Masen was back in Forks.