The sun never shone long in Forks, but that morning the clouds had thinned just enough to cast a dull silver sheen across the forested hills. From the porch of the Cullen home, Carlisle stood with a quiet posture, arms resting along the railing, his eyes trained on the distant house that had, until recently, remained empty for years.

Now it was alive.

Moving trucks had come and gone the previous week, and the once-abandoned structure had been given breath again—curtains in the windows, toys scattered in the yard, and laughter, faint but unmistakable, echoing on the wind. A family had moved in. A middle-aged couple, polite and well-spoken. A young man, probably in his early twenties, who rarely spoke at all. And a little girl—lively, bright-eyed, and no older than nine.

Renesmee had taken to her instantly.

Carlisle heard them now, their giggles fluttering through the trees like songbirds. The two girls ran through the edge of the yard, their feet light on the wet grass. Edward stood beneath one of the trees, watching, ever the silent sentinel. Bella hovered not far from him. Neither interfered—but their eyes followed every movement.

Behind Carlisle, Esme appeared with a steaming mug of tea in her hands, out of habit more than necessity. She handed it to him anyway, her smile gentle.

“Alice is worried,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“She says the brother… his future is dark.”

Carlisle nodded, glancing toward the house once more. He’d seen the young man a few times. Always distant. Always still. There was something unnatural about him—not vampire, not wolf, just… quiet in the wrong way.

Still, they had to be careful.

“We’ve lived peacefully here for years,” Carlisle said. “If he’s hiding something, we’ll find out in time. But we don’t make the first move. Not now. Not unless we have reason.”

Esme placed a hand over his. “And the girls?”

He watched Renesmee toss a pinecone, the little girl chasing after it with a shriek of laughter. For a moment, it was easy to believe this was normal. That this could be a childhood untouched by secrets.

“We’ll keep watch,” he said. “But Nessie’s smiling again. That means something.”

Behind them, the rest of the family moved through the house, quiet but alert. Rosalie peeked out a window with narrowed eyes, and Jasper lingered near the door like a shadow.

They would wait. They would be kind. And if darkness truly surrounded the stranger next door… then Carlisle would be the first to face it, not with violence—but with understanding.