Chapter 6

The drive to La Push had a different rhythm than most trips out of Forks. The forest still pressed in on both sides, but the air carried the salt-edge of the ocean long before you could see it. Even the light felt different—brighter, looser, like the clouds had been told to stand back a little so the water could show off.

Charlie was in his best mood for a Sunday. He had one elbow hooked out the open window, his sunglasses perched low enough that they looked like they were in on the joke. The old truck rumbled in that familiar way that could either lull you to sleep or make you feel like you were heading somewhere that mattered.

Bella sat in the middle seat, arms crossed over her sweater, giving off the quiet she used when she wasn't sure if she wanted to be here. I was pressed to the passenger door, watching the treeline break into glimpses of sky that kept widening.

"Billy says he's got that old smoker fixed," Charlie said, mostly to himself. "Might be fish for lunch."

I glanced over. "You're not tired of fish yet?"

Charlie grunted. "Not when it's smoked right."

Bella made a noncommittal sound. I nudged her knee with mine."You don't like smoked fish?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," I said, smirking. "Your face said, 'I'll eat it if someone makes me but I'm not going to ask for seconds.'"

Bella rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her. "Maybe."

Charlie looked at us both. "Don't be rude at Billy's table."

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "I'm always polite."

"Sure," Bella said under her breath.

The road curved and the world opened all at once—waves churning under a low sky, driftwood piled like the bones of old giants along the beach. The air slipped through the window and into my lungs, tasting of salt, wet sand, and something wild that had nothing to do with vampires or shifters.

Billy's place sat just off the road, the same low, weathered building it had always been, painted in the kind of muted blue that made you think it had belonged there forever. A ramp led up to the front door, and the old fishing nets strung on the side of the porch shifted gently in the breeze.

Jacob was already outside when we pulled in, leaning against the porch rail. He looked up, grinning at Charlie first, then at Bella, and then—hesitation—at me. The grin faltered for half a heartbeat, replaced with something else. Not recognition, exactly. More like recalibration.

"Hey, Charlie," he said, moving forward as we climbed out of the truck. "Hey, Bella."

"Jake," Bella said, smiling in that way she didn't always bother to.

"And..." he turned to me, eyebrows knitting. "Aspen?"

"In the flesh," I said.

"You—uh..." His gaze flicked down, up again. "You got taller."

I grinned, tilting my head. "Yeah, happens when you feed them Miracle-Gro."

Bella made a small sound that was half a laugh. Charlie was already moving toward the door. "Come on. Billy's got the grill going."

Jacob fell in step beside me as we followed. "Seriously, though. You look... different."

"Good different or bad different?" I asked.

He hesitated. "Not bad. Just... different. Like you've been doing a lot of... something."

"Traveling. Working. Eating my vegetables." I kept my voice light, but I could feel his eyes on me like he was trying to put together a puzzle without knowing what the picture was supposed to be.

Billy was in the living room when we came in, parked in his wheelchair near the woodstove. His smile for Charlie was easy and warm, and for Bella it softened even more. When his gaze slid to me, it stayed there longer than it should have for polite company.

"Aspen," he said finally, voice slow. "You've changed."

I stepped forward and bent slightly to hug him. "Good to see you too, Billy."

His arms came around me in a brief, solid squeeze. "Not a bad change," he said near my ear. "Just different."

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder. "Still fixing that old smoker?"

Billy's focus shifted, but not before I caught the faint narrowing of his eyes. "Got it working last week. Jacob helped."

"'Helped' is generous," Jacob said from behind me. "I held the flashlight."

"And did a poor job of it," Billy said, but there was a glint in his eye.

We settled into the living room while the smell of smoke and fish drifted in from the back. Bella sat near the window, hands wrapped around a mug Jacob had handed her. I took the armchair opposite Billy, leaning back like I had no secrets worth noticing.

"How long you in Forks this time?" Billy asked casually.

"Indefinitely," I said.

His eyebrow twitched. "That so?"

"Yeah. Figured Dad could use the extra help around the house. Plus," I gestured toward Bella, "somebody's gotta keep her from getting lost in the rain."

"I can manage," Bella muttered.

"I know you can," I said, smirking.

Billy's gaze held mine for a beat longer than it should have. There was no hostility in it, just... measuring. Like he was listening for something that wasn't in my words.

Jacob broke the moment by leaning forward. "So where've you been all this time?"

"Around," I said. "Worked a lot. Did some building, some fixing. Spent some time in cities, some time in places where the nearest neighbor was a half-day hike."

"Sounds... cool," Jacob said, though he looked like he wanted more.

Billy cleared his throat. "Charlie, you want to check the smoker?"

Charlie got up without hesitation, muttering something about making sure the fish didn't burn. Bella followed him, mug in hand, probably more to get some space than because she cared about the fish.

That left me with Billy and Jacob. Billy didn't waste the opportunity.

"You don't smell like you used to," he said quietly.

Jacob's eyes widened. "Dad—"

"It's all right," I said, keeping my voice even. "I'm not what you think I am."

"You're not cold," Billy said. "Not like them."

"No," I agreed. "And I'm not here to cause trouble."

Billy studied me for another moment, then leaned back slightly. "We keep to ourselves. We expect the same."

"Fair," I said. "I'm good at minding my business."

Jacob glanced between us. "Okay, this is... what exactly are we talking about?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Billy said, his tone making it clear the subject was closed—for now.

Charlie's voice came from the back. "Fish is ready!"

Jacob stood quickly. "Saved by the dinner bell."

We ate outside, plates balanced on our knees, the smoke from the grill wrapping around us in lazy ribbons. The fish was perfect—rich and warm, with just enough bite from the brine. Bella relaxed as the meal went on, Jacob leaning in to make her laugh, Billy watching us all like he was counting pieces on a chessboard.

By the time we left, the sun was sliding toward the horizon, turning the clouds gold at the edges. Jacob clapped my shoulder at the truck.

"Good to see you again, Aspen. You should come down more."

"Maybe I will," I said.

Billy's eyes followed us as we drove away, thoughtful and unreadable.