from　the　road　when　he　disappeared。　His　wife　saw　a　huge　gray　wolf　just　a　few　minutes　later；　while　she
  was　searching　for　him；　and　ran　for　help。〃
  My　stomach　dropped　like　I'd　hit　a　corkscrew　on　a　roller　coaster。　〃A　wolf　attacked　him？〃
  〃There's　no　sign　of　him—just　a　little　blood　again。〃　Charlie's　face　was　pained。　〃The　rangers　are　going　out
  armed；　taking　armed　volunteers。　There're　a　lot　of　hunters　who　are　eager　to　be　involved—there's　a
  reward　being　offered　for　wolf　carcasses。　That's　going　to　mean　a　lot　of　firepower　out　there　in　the　forest；
  and　it　worries　me。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃When　people　get　too　excited；　accidents　happen…〃
  〃They're　going　to　shoot　the　wolves？〃　My　voice　shot　through　three　octaves。
  〃What　else　can　we　do？　What's　wrong？〃　he　asked；　his　tense　eyes　studying　my　face。　I　felt　faint；　I　must　be
  whiter　than　usual。　〃You　aren't　turning　into　a　tree…hugger　on　me；　are　you？〃
  I　couldn't　answer。　If　he　hadn't　been　watching　me；　I　would　have　put　my　head　between　my　knees。　I'd
  forgotten　about　the　missing　hikers；　the　bloody　paw　prints…　I　hadn't　connected　those　facts　to　my　first
  realization。
  〃Look；　honey；　don't　let　this　scare　you。　Just　stay　in　town　or　on　the　highway—no　stops—okay？〃
  〃Okay；〃　I　repeated　in　a　weak　voice。
  〃I've　got　to　go。〃
  I　looked　at　him　closely　for　the　first　time；　and　saw　that　he　had　his　gun　strapped　to　his　waist　and　hiking
  boots　on。
  〃You　aren't　going　out　there　after　the　wolves；　are　you；　Dad？〃
  〃I've　got　to　help；　Bells。　People　are　disappearing。〃
  My　voice　shot　up　again；　almost　hysterical　now。　〃No！　No；　don't　go。　It's　too　dangerous！〃
  〃I've　got　to　do　my　job；　kid。　Don't　be　such　a　pessimist—I'll　be　fine。〃　He　turned　for　the　door；　and　held　it
  open。　〃You　leaving？〃
  I　hesitated；　my　stomach　still　spinning　in　uncomfortable　loops。　What　could　I　say　to　stop　him？　I　was　too
  dizzy　to　think　of　a　solution。
  〃Bells？〃
  〃Maybe　it's　too　early　to　go　to　La　Push；〃　I　whispered。
  〃I　agree；〃　he　said；　and　he　stepped　out　into　the　rain；　shutting　the　door　behind　him。
  As　soon　as　he　was　out　of　sight；　I　dropped　to　the　floor　and　put　my　head　between　my　knees。
  Should　I　go　after　Charlie？　What　would　I　say？
  And　what　about　Jacob？　Jacob　was　my　best　friend；　I　needed　to　warn　him。　If　he　really　was　a—I　cringed
  and　forced　myself　to　think　the　word—werewolf　（and　I　knew　it　was　true；　I　could　feel　it）；　then　people
  would　be　shooting　at　him！　I　needed　to　tell　him　and　his　friends　that　people　would　try　to　kill　them　if　they
  went　running　around　like　gigantic　wolves。　I　needed　to　tell　them　to　stop。
  They　had　to　stop！　Charlie　was　out　there　in　the　woods。　Would　they　care　about　that？　I　wondered…　Up
  until　now；　only　strangers　had　disappeared。　Did　that　mean　anything；　or　was　it　just　chance？
  I　needed　to　believe　that　Jacob；　at　least；　would　care　about　that。
  Either　way；　I　had　to　warn　him。
  Or…　did　I？
  Jacob　was　my　best　friend；　but　was　he　a　monster；　too？　A　real　one？　A　bad　one？　Should　I　warn　him；　if　he
  and　his　friends　were…　were　murderers！　If　they　were　out　slaughtering　innocent　hikers　in　cold　blood？　If
  they　were　truly　creatures　from　a　horror　movie　in　every　sense；　would　it　be　wrong　to　protect　them？
  It　was　inevitable　that　I　would　have　to　compare　Jacob　and　his　friends　to　the　Cullens。　I　wrapped　my　arms
  around　my　chest；　fighting　the　hole；　while　I　thought　of　them。
  I　didn't　know　anything　about　werewolves；　clearly。　I　would　have　expected　something　closer　to　the
  movies—big　hairy　half…men　creatures　or　something—if　I'd　expected　anything　at　all。　So　I　didn't　know
  what　made　them　hunt；　whether　hunger　or　thirst　or　just　a　desire　to　kill。　It　was　hard　to　judge；　not　knowing
  that。
  But　it　couldn't　be　worse　than　what　the　Cullens　endured　in　their　quest　to　be　good。　I　thought　of　Esme—the
  tears　started　when　I　pictured　her　kind；　lovely　face—and　how；　as　motherly　and　loving　as　she　was；　she'd
  had　to　hold　her　nose；　all　ashamed；　and　run　from　me　when　I　was　bleeding。　It　couldn't　be　harder　than　that。
  I　thought　of　Carlisle；　the　centuries　upon　centuries　that　he　had　struggled　to　teach　himself　to　ignore　blood；
  so　that　he　could　save　lives　as　a　doctor。　Nothing　could　be　harder　than　that。
  The　werewolves　had　chosen　a　different　path。
  Now；　what　should　I　choose？
  1　3　。　KILLER
  IF　IT　WAS　ANYONE　BUT　JACOB；　I　THOUGHT　TO　MYSELF；　shaking　my　head　as　I　drove　down
  the　forest…lined　highway　to　La　Push。
  I　still　wasn't　sure　if　I　was　domg　the　right　thing；　but　I'd　made　a　compromise　with　myself。
  I　couldn't　condone　what　Jacob　and　his　friends；　his　pack；　were　doing。　I　understood　now　what　he'd　said
  last　night—that　I　might　not　want　to　see　him　again—and　I　could　have　called　him　as　he'd　suggested；　but
  that　felt　cowardly。　I　owed　him　a　face…to…face　conversation；　at　least。　I　would　tell　him　to　his　face　that　I
  couldn't　just　overlook　what　was　going　on。　I　couldn't　be　friends　with　a　killer　and　say　nothing；　let　the　killing
  continue…　That　would　make　me　a　monster；　too。
  But　I　couldn't　not　warn　him；　either。　I　had　to　do　what　I　could　to　protect　him。
  I　pulled　up　to　the　Blacks'　house　with　my　lips　pressed　together　into　a　hard　line。　It　was　bad　enough　that　my
  best　friend　was　a　werewolf。　Did　he　have　to　be　a　monster；　too？
  The　house　was　dark；　no　lights　in　the　windows；　but　I　didn't　care　if　I　woke　them。　My　fist　thudded　against
  the　front　door　with　angry　energy；　the　sound　reverberated　through　the　walls。
  〃Come　in；〃　I　heard　Billy　call　after　a　minute；　and　a　light　flicked　on。
  I　twisted　the　knob；　it　was　unlocked。　Billy　was　leaning　around　an　open　doorway　just　off　the　little　kitchen；　a
  bathrobe　around　his　shoulders；　not　in　his　chair　yet。　When　he　saw　who　it　was；　his　eyes　widened　briefly；
  and　then　his　face　turned　stoic。
  〃Well；　good　morning；　Bella。　What　are　you　doing　up　so　early？〃
  〃Hey；　Billy。　I　need　to　talk　to　Jake—where　is　he？〃
  〃Um…　I　don't　really　know；〃　he　lied；　straight…faced。
  〃Do　you　know　what　Charlie　is　doing　this　morning？〃　I　demanded；　sick　of　the　stalling。
  〃Should　I？〃
  〃He　and　half　the　other　men　in　town　are　all　out　in　the　woods　with　guns；　hunting　giant　wolves。〃
  Billy's　expression　flickered；　and　then　went　blank。
  〃So　I'd　like　to　talk　to　Jake　about　that；　if　you　don't　mind；〃　I　continued。
  Billy　pursed　his　thick　lips　for　a　long　moment。　〃I'd　bet　he's　still　asleep；〃　he　finally　said；　nodding　toward　the
  tiny　hallway　off　the　front　room。　〃He's　out　late　a　lot　these　days。　Kid　needs　his　rest—probably　you
  shouldn't　wake　him。〃
  〃It's　my　turn；〃　I　muttered　under　my　breath　as　I　stalked　to　the　hallway。　Billy　sighed。
  Jacob's　tiny　closet　of　a　room　was　the　only　door　in　the　yard…long　hallway。　I　didn't　bother　to　knock。　I
  threw　the　door　open；　it　slammed　against　the　wall　with　a　bang。
  Jacob—still　wearing　just　the　same　black　cut…off　sweats　he'd　worn　last　night—was　stretched　diagonally
  across　the　double　bed　that　took　up　all　of　his　room　but　a　few　inches　around　the　edges。　Even　on　a　slant；　it
  wasn't　long　enough；　his　feet　hung　off　the　one　end　and　his　head　off　the　other。　He　was　fast　asleep；　snoring
  lightly　with　his　mouth　hanging　open。　The　sound　of　the　door　hadn't　even　made　him　twitch。
  His　face　was　peaceful　with　（deep　sleep；　all　the　angry　lines　smoothed　out。　There　were　circles　under　his
  eyes　that　I　hadn't　noticed　before。　Despite　his　ridiculous　size；　he　looked　very　young　now；　and　very　weary。
  Pity　shook　me。
  I　stepped　back　out；　and　shut　the　door　quietly　behind　me。
  Billy　stared　with　curious；　guarded　eyes　as　I　walked　slowly　back　into　the　front　room。
  〃I　think　I'll　let　him　get　some　rest。〃
  Billy　nodded；　and　then　we　gazed　at　each　other　for　a　minute。　I　was　dying　to　ask　him　about　his　part　in　this。
  What　did　he　think　of　what　his　son　had　become？　But　I　knew　how　he'd　supported　Sam　from　the　very
  beginning；　and　so　I　supposed　the　murders　must　not　bother　him。　How　he　justified　that　to　himself　I　couldn't
  imagine。
  I　could　see　many　questions　for　me　in　his　dark　eyes；　but　he　didn't　voice　them　either。
  〃Look；〃　I　said；　breaking　the　loud　silence。　〃I'll　be　down　at　the　beach　for　a　while。　When　he　wakes　up；　tell
  him　I'm　waiting　for　him；　okay？〃
  〃Sure；　sure；〃　Billy　agreed。
  I　wondered　if　he　really　would。　Well；　if　he　didn't；　I'd　tried；　right？
  I　drove　down　to　First　Beach　and　parked　in　the　empty　dirt　lot。　It　was　still　dark—the　gloomy　predawn　of　a
  cloudy　day—and　when　I　cut　the　headlights　it　was　hard　to　see。　I　had　to　let　my　eyes　adjust　before　I　could
  find　the　path　that　led　through　the　tall　hedge　of　weeds。　It　was　colder　here；　with　the　wind　whipping　off　the
  black　water；　and　I　shoved　my　hands　deep　into　the　pockets　of　my　winter　jacket。　At　least　the　rain　had
  stopped。
  I　paced　down　the　beach　toward　the　north　seawall。　I　couldn't　see　St。　James　or　the　other　islands；　just　the
  vague　shape　of　the　water's　edge。　I　picked　my　way　carefully　across　the　rocks；　watching　out　for　driftwood
  that　might　trip　me。
  I　found　what　I　was　looking　for　before　I　realized　I　was　looking　for　it。　It　materialized　out　of　the　gloom　when
  it　was　just　a　few　feet　away：　a　long　bone…white　driftwood　tree　stranded　deep　on　the　rocks。　The　roots
  twisted　up　at　the　seaward　end；　like　a　hundred　brittle　tentacles。　I　couldn't　be　sure　that　it　was　the　same　tree
  where　Jacob　a