A/N:

Here we are again. I'm posting this brief prologue before I lose my nerve. Maybe you'd like to enter this new world with me... it will be dark, as usual, with breaks of sunlight. Thank you to the loyal and lovely mariahajile for providing me with her outstanding beta services.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

For fic, I'm spitfirecherry on Twitter.

Prologue

There's something clean about November. The earth discards the old and unnecessary, revealing a stark and barren landscape. The air chills as the leaves die and depart, leaving the naked wilderness to sleep through winter, patiently waiting to be reborn when spring begins again. No span of time seems longer than a New England winter.

Bella was in the kitchen when it happened. Wrapped in a threadbare sweater sipping coffee brewed from her one cup coffee pot, she felt the floor vibrate and an ear splitting sound tore through the quiet of Sunday morning. She gripped the sink, bracing for the aftershocks that she was sure would come. But it couldn't have been an earthquake. Not in Kingsbridge. It could have been a bomb or a plane crashing. These things are not foreign in New York State. Moved by curiosity and feigning courage, she moved to the window to see what had happened.

With movements so swift she barely registered them, she ran down the stairs of her fourth floor walk-up, nearly slipping on water leaking form Mrs. Henry's plants in the hall. It was just about to rain and far too cold to be running down the block in slippers, but the cold didn't faze her. Bella had lived on this street for eight years, but the oak tree could have been one hundred times that in age. It was almost as if her neighborhood was built around that tree, and now it was lying lifeless in the middle of Cobalt Avenue surrounded by downed power lines, alive and dancing.

On her way home, she always saw its branches emerge above the rooftops as she walked and she knew she was almost there. In the summer, it gave a respite of shade from the harsh sunshine and unrelenting heat. The ice cream man used to park underneath it, and birds would flit and flock toward it and then back to the eaves of the nearby buildings.

Standing there staring at it, broken with its massive limbs scattered in the street, she felt like someone had died, and she wasn't quite sure why. With her chin trembling and tears in her eyes, she watched others rush past, stopping short once they had discovered the source of the horrendous sound. They stood with their hands clasped over their mouths, each of them just as stunned by the sight before them as she was.

While everyone stared at the monstrous dead oak in the middle of the street, Bella felt the sensation of being watched. She looked up at the homes surrounding her and saw many people leaning out their windows, looking at the downed tree, but no one was looking at her. The cold wind blew through her once again, and as the first icy rain drops began to fall, she saw a man straddling a motorcycle, staring directly at her. He gripped his handlebars and smiled, but it wasn't friendly. He wore a hooded green camouflage sweatshirt, not likely to conceal him amidst the brick of downtown Kingsbridge. He revved his engine and rode slowly past Bella, his gaze never breaking free from hers. His unnecessary silver sunglasses didn't afford her the chance to see his eyes, but she was held paralyzed by his presence. She watched him until he turned the corner and was gone.

Unable to shake the creepiness of that encounter, Bella went home and finished her coffee on the couch with the Sunday paper. The stranger's face crossed her mind several times and then faded away, not part of her past or her present. But that Sunday morning wouldn't be the last time Bella saw Edward Cullen.