A New Cullen Sister

Chapter 72

"Maman, Papa, I am sorry that I have not been to visit you for quite some time," began Amelia, trailing her fingers down the headstones of her parents' graves. It was Saturday, and it had dawned clear and bright. The Cullens had been unable to accompany Amelia to the graveyard that day as a result, something which according to Alice, was more than alright with her. Peter had volunteered to take his god-daughter to visit her parents' graves. Not wanting to intrude, Simon, Ariané and the others had gone earlier to pay their respects. It was a tradition that they had kept up for the past thirteen years.

"I cannot believe that it has been thirteen years since you-" Amelia struggled to get the right words, tearing up as she did so,"- left. I miss you both so much."

Peter held her close to him as she mourned her biological parents, grieved their loss which felt just as acute as that fateful day thirteen years ago.

"Both of them would be so proud of you, Sixty Five," he commented, awkwardly patting her back.

"You think so?" Amelia queried softly.

"I know so," he promised. They did not linger for too long, as it was cold outside and no one wanted Amelia to catch a cold. The plots that held Amelia's parents' coffins were left with fresh roses and flowers adorning them, a symbol that someone who loved them deeply still cared enough to visit. Peter often came to visit them. Abigail had been his best friend, and he got on very well with Christopher. As a younger man, he often third-wheeled with them, and later on, loved to accompany his young goddaughter on her adventures. He had been heartbroken when the system ruled against him and he was unable to look after Amelia.

"Uncle Pete?" Amelia's voice was shaky as the pair slowly made their way back to Amelia's childhood home.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"What really happened that night?"

Peter took a deep breath and led Amelia over to a bench. The pair sat down. This was a moment that he had hoped to avoid, but she deserved to know the truth.

"How much do you remember, or have learned, about that night?" he queried, almost certain that Amelia had done some research of her own. It had made the newspapers at the time, and the Benaroya Trust did a fair amount of advertising for the benefit concert each year, which always included a few lines about how the scholarship came about. Surely she knew what had happened? His thoughts were confirmed a few moments later.

"Just that they were killed by a drunk driver. Mom died on impact, Dad died two days later."

"The drunk driver's blood alcohol was triple the legal limit. How he even managed to get into his car..." he trailed off, recalling the night that he received the phone call that had changed his god-daughter's life.

"Did you sign off the forms that withdrew all extreme life-saving measures? A Do Not Resuscitate form?" Amelia's voice broke through his quiet contemplation. At Peter's stunned glance, she elaborated, "I recall a lot about that night. I remember going to see Maman, she was so cold. Papa was very ill. I remember being chased out of the room when the machines started making noises, which I realise now is a flat-line."

"Yes, I did," he confirmed, and turned his head away, unable to look at the pained expression that he was almost sure would cross Amelia's face. Her next words sent him reeling in shock.

"Thank you." It was a little louder than a whisper, but spoken with clarity and a hint of gratitude.

"You're thanking me for essentially killing your father?!" he exclaimed. For years, his decision had haunted him.

"You did not kill-"