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『chapter xvii: SOMEONE'S FALL. 』
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WHEN THE CULLEN'S DIDN'T SHOW UP AT SCHOOL for a few days, June knew as well as she knew what socks she was wearing, that something wasn't right. Each day that passed — four days to be exact — the air seemed warmer and more thick and Bella's anxiety, her older sister who was normally so good at sheltering emotions like that, was clearer than ever. June's routine didn't change but she was used to Bella hovering over her, only after the Cullen's had been MIA for a while Bella had ceased that. June was strangely missing that. But she rationalized that as being needy and waiting attention like always. June's mind kept repeating the events of Bella's birthday, what if they hadn't been quick enough? What if Edward wasn't thinking as clear and he let Jasper slip right through his hands and subsequently let Bella's throat be torn out? There was too many risk, but there had been since ... since June allowed herself to be friends with them.
It was a tenuous thought, though June couldn't shake it. She knew that they had kept their distance from her in the beginning before Bella's arrival for a discovery she had made months ago — Melanie Capote. A Quileute girl whom died, aged sixteen and was supposed to be married to the Quileute chief at the time, Ephraim Black. But she didn't want and stuff happened that she fled to the Cullen's of all people for safety. She wanted to become one of them, the Cullen's helped her without turning her, but she died anyway. The cherry on top is that Melanie Capote, was her ancestor, for her grandma Iris was a Blackthorn, the name the Capote family took on after their daughters untimely fate and the supposed disgrace of consorting with Cold Ones she brought upon them. The whole story seemed simple enough but the holes in the story were still there, like how Edward apparently loved her and Rosalie, too. And the fact that Melanie's name was to never be mentioned in either of their presences.
June sighed as she looked out the window of her bedroom, all those thoughts swirling in her head. She glanced back to the new bottle of moonshine that was visible on the shelf of her opened closet — with a heavy heart, she shut the door to it. She pulled on her shoes and whistled lowly to Patrick Verona, who perked up at her call.
