The sky hung heavy with clouds, just another dull, gray morning in Forks. The air was damp, clinging to Aiden's jacket as he leaned against Steve's matte-black Audi A6, its polished chrome catching the faint morning light. People in this town didn't expect the deputy to roll up in something German and expensive, but Steve wasn't like most people. He never talked about it, but the man had money. Aiden didn't ask. He didn't care.
He kept his hood up and earbuds in, eyes scanning the lot out of habit. Students were trickling in. Nothing out of place—until he saw Bella.
She'd just stepped out of her beat-up truck, fumbling with her backpack. Glancing around nervously. She was always tense.
That's when he heard it—tires screeching.
Aiden yanked one earbud out.
Brakes. Screeching.
Rubber. Squealing.
Metal. Sliding.
His head snapped to the side. Tyler's van.
Coming right at him.
He barely had time to react before the back of the van fishtailed and slammed into him, full force.
His body lifted off the ground like it weighed nothing.
He hit a lamp post with a brutal crack—his shoulder twisting unnaturally—then bounced off the metal and landed with a crunch on the hood of a nearby car. He slid off the side, hitting the wet pavement hard.
Everything was muffled.
Until—
"Aiden!" a voice barked, sharper than the chaos. "Stay awake."
He blinked up.
Rosalie.
Hair wind-blown, her eyes fierce. She was crouched over him, checking his pulse without looking like she was.
"You idiot," she hissed under her breath, furious—but her hands were gentle. "You weren't supposed to get hit."
"Wh—" he tried to talk, but pain seared through his chest.
Then a second sound—metal crunching. Across the lot.
He twisted just enough to catch a flash of it: Edward Cullen. Standing in front of Bella Swan. One hand pressed against the side of Tyler's van. The vehicle completely stopped… just inches from Bella's body.
Aiden blinked again.
What… the hell?
He saw Bella, dazed but safe, sitting up and staring in shock.
And then—Edward.
The guy was there. Just there—in front of Bella, hand outstretched, catching the van like it weighed nothing. Metal folded under his palm like it was made of cardboard.
That wasn't normal. That wasn't human.
The world swam. Blood pounded in Aiden's ears.
Footsteps again—faster this time, more urgent. He turned his head slightly and saw a blur of gold hair.
Rosalie.
She dropped to her knees beside him, crouching like a predator ready to strike.
"Aiden," she said, her voice low, furious—but not at him. "Don't move."
"I… saw him," Aiden muttered. "He caught it. The van…"
Her eyes locked onto his, sharp and shining like amber glass. "Forget what you saw," she whispered, more command than comfort.
But the pain was too much. The world went dark.