In the Shadows of Starlight - TWILIGHT

1

   Death was a thought that often lingered at the edges of my mind—not in fear, but in fascination. Not mine, not exactly. Just the way people described it: cold, distant, unyielding. Words like knives. But even as a child, I never saw it that way. It seemed... quiet. Peaceful. Honest. Enviable.

Bella feared it. She'd curl beneath the crook of our mother's arm whenever the subject arose, clinging to the warmth, the pulse of life. I used to think her fear was silly—still do—but I envied the comfort she received. I learned young that comfort was something given selectively. So I feigned fear too, once. But my mother didn't cradle me the same. Eventually, I stopped pretending. I stopped asking.

Bella was always the delicate one—wide-eyed, fragile, in need of shelter. And I was... not. I was something else entirely. Quiet. Watchful. A silhouette against the wallpaper. Bella was a butterfly—light, lovely, needing constant care. I was a moth, drawn to shadows, easily forgotten.

It was Bella's idea to go to Forks—to live with Charlie, so our mother could follow Phil across the country. A convenient sacrifice. I knew Mom had thought about it long before Bella suggested it. Selfish thoughts, buried under maternal smiles. But when Bella offered, she seized the chance like a woman offered wings. She tried to mask her joy with a wistful sigh, but I saw through it. Her freedom, finally delivered.

I wasn't asked. I rarely was. But it didn't matter. Phoenix never felt like home—not truly. I had no friends here. Bella did, a few. Just enough to make her absence sting. Bella never blended in, no matter how hard she tried. Things—people, attention, chaos—they always found her. I, on the other hand, moved through the world like smoke. Unseen. Untouched. And I preferred it that way.

I took one final look at my room, now hollow and echoing. The walls were stripped bare, my childhood scattered—donated or discarded. I thought I might cry. I didn't. Phoenix was never mine to mourn. And Forks? A ghost town in my memory. I never spent summers there. I stayed in this desert cocoon, curled up with a book and the hum of an air conditioner.

"NORA!! Come on, we're gonna be late!" Mom's voice called through the stale air. I rolled my eyes. She could at least pretend to be sad. She could at least act like she was losing something.

To me, Charlie was a name on an envelope. A stranger with the title of "father."

I breathed in the thick desert air one last time and closed the door behind me.

Outside, Bella, Mom, and Phil huddled around the car in some tangled knot of affection. Mom's hands fluttered, checking and rechecking that Bella truly wanted this. I saw the way she picked at her nails, a nervous tic hidden behind a mother's concern. She hoped Bella would back out. But Bella didn't. And with that, the weight lifted from Mom's shoulders.

I slid into the car unnoticed. Just as Mom pulled Bella in for another suffocating embrace.

The rest came in pieces. Airport terminals. Overhead announcements. Engines roaring. I followed Bella in a daze, headphones dulling the edges of the world. By the time I looked up, we were in the sky, gliding toward Seattle—too high for sentiment.

Beneath us, the land fractured into tiny squares and circles. Civilization, made miniature. Clouds gathered thick as wool, greying the sky like a warning.

I leaned back, watching the mist roll in.

Bella's knee bounced beside me, a frantic rhythm. Her pale fingers cradled the cactus she insisted on bringing. I didn't have the heart to tell her it would die here—Forks would smother it with shadow and rain. But maybe she knew. Maybe she brought it anyway, a piece of the sun to hold onto.

Her face was fixed forward, her skin paler than before. Nervous. Bracing.

I should've said something to ease her. But comfort isn't my language. Reassurance, foreign on my tongue. I feared I'd only make it worse.