A/N: Hey everyone! I just got back from vacation, if it could really be considered a vacation. I went on a mission trip down to New Orleans. You'd be surprised how much work still has to be done, even three years after Katrina. We gutted houses, put up dry wall, painted…and tons more. Let me tell you, it was hard work. And it was hot. I don't think it was ever under 90 degrees during the day.

A lot of you have been asking about a sequel for this story. I think the epilogue sums it up pretty nicely, but that's just my opinion. I am in no way opposed to writing a sequel, but you'll need to give me some inspiring ideas. I need ideas from you to get my creative juices flowing.

Again, I want to thank everyone of you who took the time to review. I truly appreciate it. I've really enjoyed seeing your opinions and getting to know a few of you.

Epilogue—A Piece of You

Edward's POV:

Time is a curious thing. How is it, that sometimes years fly by, as if no more than a few days have passed by, while sometimes the years drag on, so that only one can compare to a century? Is there truly such a thing as time, measuring all of the events in our lives? Or is time merely something invented by mankind in attempts to explain the cycles of life, or the universe around them? Is time something we have made? Something made to explain what we do not know? In all my years, I have found no answer.

The year of my life that I spent with Bella often felt as though it went faster than an hour did now. After her death, I spent my time in the deepest, darkest places I could find. I would lay there, wallowing in my pity for what seemed like an eternity. But when I left, I would be surprised to find that only a few hours had passed. Time did not have the same meaning for me as it once had. Forever was too long to spend this way.

But as far as I was concerned, I was incapable of doing anything else. So I continued that way, sulking, brooding, dwelling in the haunting memories of the past, and grieving for what my life had become. So time passed, in a pathetic and pitiful sort of way. The hours turned into days, the days to weeks, weeks to months, and finally the months to years. And then one day, I decided that I needed to go back.

It had been many years since I had last been Forks, but still, I was surprised to see how much it had changed, although I should not have been. Time may be eventless for one of the undead such as myself, but humans never ceased to stop propelling forward.

Forks was now quite a bit larger, but still small enough to be considered a small town. Shabby old buildings had been torn down and flashy new ones had been built to replace them. I went to see what my old house now looked like. I swallowed the lump in my throat when I saw that it was no longer there. The whole forest area that had once surrounded our house was now cleared away, and a shopping centre was built in its place. I turned to leave before I was overtaken by emotion.

Next, I went to Chief Swan's house. Alice had informed me that he had died a couple of years after Bella, but seeing his once familiar house was still a shock to me. A wing had been added to the house, giving it a larger appearance, and it had been painted, so it was barely recognizable. Two small children played in the yard while a middle-aged woman worked in a quaint garden.

Lastly, I went to the cemetery where Bella was buried. The grave looked just how I remembered it, just slightly more withered. The grass was cut back from it, and a bouquet of fairly new roses had been placed by its side. Jacob had done well.

I stood there in silence, wondering what I had expected to find. I inhaled the air around, and the faint smell of Bella's scent filled my lungs, as if to torture me. Memories came back faster than I could control.

"Whatcha doin' mister?" a small voice broke through the silence.

Surprised, I turned suddenly to see who had spoken. It was a young girl of about ten or eleven years. She was a grubby child; streaks of dirt covered almost every visible part of her skin. Her clothes, too, were quite dirty, and about two sizes too large. Her faded t-shirt fell to about her lower thighs and her baggy jeans were cut off at the knee. She had a huge bruise that covered her right shin and her fingers nails were cut short and caked with mud. Her dark, wild hair was tangled and flew about freely in every direction, and beneath the dirt, her skin was a lovely tan, a rare case for anyone in cloudy Forks. But despite her ragged appearance, the girl had a strikingly beautiful look about her.

"I'm visiting an old friend," I finally replied, answering her question.

"Oh," she said, looking thoughtful, "You're not from around here, are you?"

That was one of the things that had not changed about Forks in the years I had left. The town was still small enough that everyone knew everyone.

"No, but I used to live here very long ago," I answered.

"You don't look very old," she observed, giving me a quizzical look.

A perceptive child, I noted as I responded, "You'd be surprised. I'm a lot older than I look."

She smiled slightly, looking up at me with sparkling brown eyes that looked somewhat familiar. And there was something different about her that I could not put my finger on.

"What are you doing here?" I found myself suddenly asking.

The child was now on her knees, picking grass and rubbing it between her small fingers, causing them to turn a bright shade of green.

"Playing," she said. "Our house isn't too far from here. The cemetery is closer than the park, so Daddy says I can play here if I want to go out on my own. Some of the trees over there are really good for climbing." She pointed a green finger over toward the forest. "Daddy says I can't go too far in, though.

"Daddy comes here sometimes, too," she continued. "Mama's grave is here. I come to visit, too, even though I didn't know her. She died when I was just a baby."

She had now gotten up and wiped her grimy hands on her already dirty t-shirt. Her eyes met mine again, and suddenly sense of recognition came over me. This was Bella's daughter. So that explains the scent, I thought. She smelled like a very faint version of Bella. I stared at her for a moment, and then I was able to pinpoint what was different about her. Like her mother, I was unable to read her mind.

"What is your name?" I asked. I recalled that Jacob had named his daughter Alice, the name Bella had had her heart set on. It was an act of true love, naming his daughter after one of his enemies, even after Bella's death.

"Alice," she replied from the ground again, this time near a patch of daises. "Here's a flower for you. Why?"

I took the flower from her outstretched hand. "Why what?"

"Why did you ask me my name? Daddy says I shouldn't tell my name to strangers, but you don't seem like a stranger to me."

I was taken back, but replied, "I was just wondering. You look like someone I was knew. Someone I knew when I lived here."

"Maybe it was Mama!" Her brown eyes lit up.

Perhaps, I thought. "But then again, maybe not. There are many people in the world…"

Yes, there were many, many people, but it seems that some people have invisible ties connecting them, always bringing them back together.

"Are you alright, mister?" Alice asked, and before I could reply, she reached out a grabbed my hand. "You're so cold!" she exclaimed. "You can come to my house and warm up if you'd like."

And see your father, I added. I was not sure of the terms Jacob Black and I were on these days.

"I would really love to," I said. "But I really must be going. You see, I didn't mean to stay here very long."

I regretted that fact that I could not read her mind. I was wondering if she would tell her father about the pale, cold stranger she had seen in the cemetery. I did not want to stay around long enough to find out.

"Oh." She looked slightly disappointed. "Well I have to go home. It's almost time for lunch."

"Farewell then, Alice," I said, already feeling attached to the small girl.

"Goodbye, uh mister—you never told me your name," she realized.

"It doesn't really matter," I said, sighing. "I am not the person I once was. Sometimes I do not even know who I am."

She gave me a curious look then said, "Well then, goodbye, mister."

And then Alice left, running on her skinny legs through the open gate of the cemetery. And suddenly I did not want to lose her like I had her mother.

"Edward!" I called after her. "My name is Edward."

She stopped then, and turned to face me, smiling broadly. And suddenly it wasn't the grubby little child I was looking at. The figure before me had transformed into a gorgeous young woman. Her chocolate colored hair fell gently around her shoulders, her soft, brown eyes sparkled, and her beautiful lips were curved into a smile.

And as fast as it had happened, the woman disappeared and the child was standing in her place once more. She waved once before turning to leave. I watched the small child run until I could see her no longer.

"I will always remember you," I whispered to the wind, not sure if I was speaking to Bella or her child.

And I turned leave, still holding the flower that Alice had given me, at last ready to move on.