Dead Man Walking By MandyLeigh87

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7297320/1/

Dear Mr. Masen,

My name is Isabella Swan and I'm a graduate student at the University working
on a research paper for my Criminology class. Our assignment is to research and
present a paper on a subject of our choosing. I've chosen you Mr. Masen. I
understand that your current situation limits visitors, but I would like a chance to
speak with you. I look forward to hearing from you and the opportunity to learn
more about you.

Sincerely,

Isabella Swan

August

Convicted Killer Edward Masen Set to Be Executed Next Year.

I set down the newspaper and glanced up at my professor. His eyebrow was
cocked above his thick-rimmed glasses as he stared at me like I was bat shit
crazy.

"And what makes you want to do your research paper on this fella?" He nodded
to the newspaper. "I mean can't you just pick Dahmer or BTK like the other
students?"

"Dr. Cantone, this man has less than a year to live. We normally don't get to
study someone like this, especially before their death. And he's housed less than
an hour away; I could try to get in for an interview. I would be talking to the
source, instead of just reading about him in books. He's…my age and is from the
area. Please let me do this."

Our big project for the year was a research project on a criminal of our choice.
We had to analyze their behavior, lifestyle, childhood, ect. I wanted to do it on
Edward Masen. Since it was such a high profile local case, my professor was
hesitant to approve it.

I was in high school when it all happened. Everyone said he was a bad seed, been
in and out of foster-homes since he was a young kid. He ended up with the
Cullens when he was about fourteen and for some reason they refused to give up
on him. Everyone said that if he had any chance at all, the Cullens would be the
ones to give it to him. That was until he killed that girl.

That girl was Tanya Denali. She was a senior at Forks High the year I transferred
in from Phoenix. Everyone knew she was dating James Volturi. It wasn't a
surprise. Their families were both rolling in money and had the attitude to go
along with it.

Edward barely graduated two years before I even got there so I'd never met the
guy before, but apparently he was obsessed with Tanya. Everyone saw her
publicly reject him at some party and the next day she was found strangled at
the local community center. It was an open and shut case according to my dad.
He'd retired from the post of sheriff two months before it all happened, but he
was still a respected member of the community. Edward was arrested and
convicted less than a year after Tanya died. Dad said the speedy conviction may
have had something to do with James' father being a judge, but they had a lot of
evidence against him, including testimony from at least two different people who
saw her with him after the party.

It always felt like I was watching one of those crime dramas on TV. All I ever
knew about Edward Masen I'd heard through rumors or what they said in the
media. And now I wanted to hear it from him.

"Okay," Dr. Cantone said. "Miss Swan, I'm approving your request."

"Fantastic." I smiled as I waited for him to sign the approval. Once he was
finished, I went back to my apartment and got started. I pulled up all of the
newspaper articles I could find on him so I could refresh myself a little on the
case. The newspapers did some shitty reporting, but I at least got the gist. I
didn't want to taint myself before I spoke to Edward. I didn't want to sway him or
make him feel like I was against him. I wanted to be truly unbiased.

The next day I wrote my first letter to him. I tried to sound professional, even
though I was anxious.

Dear Mr. Masen,

My name is Isabella Swan and I'm a graduate student at the University working
on a research paper for my Criminology class. Our assignment is to research and
present a paper on a subject of our choosing. I've chosen you Mr. Masen. I
understand that your current situation limits visitors, but I would like a chance to
speak with you. I look forward to hearing from you and the opportunity to learn
more about you.

Sincerely,

Isabella Swan

As soon as I completed my letter to Mr. Masen I sent the letter and a self-
addressed envelopeout the next day. For the next two weeks, I waited by the
door watching for the mail to come. Every day I was disappointed so I stopped
looking for it.

"Hey Bella," one of my neighbors called as they passed.

"Hey Ben." I smiled and pulled the mail from my mailbox. I shuffled through the
usual items and finally came to the last envelope. I recognized my handwriting
right away and my heart jumped into my throat. He wrote back.

My fingers shook as I tore at the paper. There was one piece of paper inside. And
it was the same one I'd sent him. I scanned my own letter until I noted the
different handwriting at the bottom.

Not interested.

Not interested? I sighed and shook my head. This couldn't be it. I wanted to
interview Edward Masen. The least he could do was talk to me for five minutes. It
wasn't like he had anywhere else to be.

I wrote him two more times and each time he sent them back, except didn't even
bother to write on them. My best friend Rose was a journalism student and like
any other annoying, persistent person in her profession, she had a plan.

"Go talk to his family. I mean you lived in their hometown Bells. Explain what
you're doing." She shrugged. "They might help you talk to him."

September

I tugged at the ends of the long button up shirt I was wearing. Rose let me
borrow it so I could look nice when I went to the Cullen's. It wasn't that I didn't
have any nice clothes, but it just wasn't me. I was more of a jean and t-shirt kind
of girl and this whole get up made me feel ridiculous.

I smoothed my hair back to its ponytail as I stepped up to their front door. I'd
debated calling them, telling them why I was coming, but I chickened out. I
cleared my throat and knocked softly against the door.

Their house was fairly large, especially compared to the others in the area. There
were a couple of different cars in the driveway so I knew that at least someone
was at home.

After a few moments, someone pulled aside the curtains from the front window.
They were still shadowed in darkness so I didn't know who it was, but it was
definitely someone. I knocked again.

The door finally creaked open and a girl around my age peeked her head out. She
was pale, white enough that her dark hair looked jet black against it. It was cut
short, erratic like she'd cut it herself. She glanced at me and then down at the
ground.

"Can I help you?" She asked timidly.

"Possibly. My name is Isabella Swan. I was just wondering if I could talk to you
about Edward?"

Her eyes flickered up to mine. "Edward?" Her voice perked up a little.

"Alice?" A voice called from behind her. "Who's that?"

Alice cowered back into herself as a woman appeared behind her. I assumed it
was Mrs. Cullen. When Alice didn't speak, I decided to introduce myself.

"Hi Mrs. Cullen." I smiled. "My name is Isabella and I wanted to speak with you
guys about Edward. See I'm doing a…." I reached into my bag to pull out our
assignment and a business card, but I didn't have the chance.

"You stupid reporters," she sneered. "Can't leave us alone for nothing!" She
yelled. She slammed the door in my face before I could get another word out.

"I'm…not a reporter," I whispered to no one. I stood there in shock for a moment
or two before pulling out a business card. I glanced at the window where I'd seen

Alice a moment before and found her watching me again. I managed to smile and
slipped the business card underneath their porch mat. I figured if anyone would
talk to me, she would be it.

The curtain closed again as I got in the car and drove away. When I got back to
my place, Rose brought over take out and I told her the whole story.

"Dumb bitch," she said.

"I guess I don't blame her. I mean they lost Edward too. I know he's just in
prison right now, but they still lost him. He might as well be dead." I shrugged.

"Well he will be in a few months."

My phone rang, registering an unknown number, and I held my breath. Was this
Alice?

"Hello?" I answered.

"Is this Isabella?"

I recognized her voice right away, but I played dumb. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"This is um…this is Alice. You were at my house earlier."

"Hi Alice." I glanced over at Rose and she started fake clapping.

"Are you a reporter?"

"No, I'm actually a student."

"I can meet with you tomorrow if you want. At the diner around noon."

"Sure! That's great." I smiled. "Thank you Alice."

The line went dead and I screamed. This was it. This was the break I needed.

I arrived at the diner the next day almost a half hour early. I was surprised to
find her already there.

She sat at a booth over in the corner, tugging nervously at her sleeves. Every
once in a while I noticed the other patrons glance over at her and whisper to their
companions.

I cleared my throat and smiled as I stepped towards her. "Hello, Alice."

"Isabella." She nodded.

"Please, call me Bella." I sat down across from her. "Thank you so much for
meeting with me."

"My mother can't know I'm here. She doesn't like people asking about my
brother."

"I'm not a reporter, I promise." I explained the details of my assignment and that
I'd chosen to write my paper on Edward. She listened closely while she counted
the sugar packets over and over again.

"He's not the monster they make him out to be you know," she said softly as I
finished.

"Were you adopted as well, Alice?" I asked.

"I met Edward when I was ten years old, when the Cullens brought him home.
Before that I'd been in two different foster homes. My mama killed herself when I
was a baby and I never met my father." Her eyes drifted out the window.
"Edward was my best friend."

"Do you get to visit him often?"

"Family can visit more easily than others…" She drew invisible circles on the
tabletop. "He doesn't like us to go up there. Doesn't want us to be bothered."

"So he's ready to die?"

"No one's ready to die for someone else's mistake." She glared at me. It was only
sensible for her to believe that he didn't do it. She said it; he was her best friend,
her brother. Nobody wants to believe that someone they love is evil.

We talked a little bit more about Edward and his childhood, at least what Alice
knew about him. He got in trouble a lot, almost went to Juvie one time for
stealing his foster father's car. It was hard to reconcile his record and how Alice
thought of him. Even when she spoke of his indiscretions, she did it with a
sparkle in her eye. He was her hero, regardless of the fact that he was sitting on
death row for murder.

Alice's phone rang while we sat and finished up our drinks. Our bills sat
untouched at the edge of the table and I was so full that I thought I was going to
vomit.

"Mom?" Her eyes widened in panic. "Yeah I was just stopping to get some take
out, do you want anything? Yeah, I'm on my way home." She hung up the phone
and frantically started rifling through her wallet. "I have to go." She laid some
money on the table and darted from the seat. She was across the room and out
the door before I could say another word.

I sighed and grabbed my purse to pay. As I did, I noticed a small card on the
floor, about the size of a driver's license. And that was exactly what it was. Alice
Brandon's driver's license. I'd just found my way in.

October

I was so fucking nervous before I left for the prison that Rose offered me a Xanax
to calm me down. I pushed her hand away and tightened the scarf around my
head instead. I snuggled into my jacket and pulled the sunglasses over my eyes.

Anyone who knew her would know that I wasn't Alice Brandon. I sure as hell
didn't have the skinny frame that she did. My hair was hidden well enough that
no one would now it was the opposite of her short hair. I was just hoping it was
good enough to pass.

I traveled to the prison in silence, wanting to be completely alone with my
thoughts. When I reached the outer gates, they asked for my name and I.D.
before allowing me to pass through.

I was met by a tall and towering fence before me. Barbed wire was wrapped
around the top, which met a large tower at each corner. I parked the car and
walked up to the front door. There was a large sign marked "Visitors" that hung
above a check in station.

"Can I help you?" The man behind the desk asked.

"Yes." I cleared my throat. "I'm here to see my brother."

"Name?"

"Edward Masen."

He looked up from his paperwork and cocked his eyebrow. "I'll need to see your
identification."

My fingers shook as I fumbled in my purse for Alice's driver's license. I smiled
and handed it to him. He examined it closely and typed something into his
computer.

"Alice Brandon." He handed me back the card and looked me over. I felt a bead
of sweat roll down my forehead, but I smiled anyway. "You know the drill Ms.
Brandon; I see you've visited before. Officer Yates will do the search and lead you
back." He nodded and picked up his phone.

"For Edward Masen?" Another officer stepped towards me.

"Yes?" I waved.

"Step over here please, I'll need to see inside your bag. Officer Eugene will do the
physical search."

I handed over my purse, hoping that he wouldn't look too closely in my wallet. He
might see all my things with my real name on it.

A female officer stepped over to me and asked me to put my arms out. She
lightly patted me down before giving the okay to Officer Yates. He handed me
back my purse after he was content with his search and waved me down through
a hallway.

They took me to a long room with a never ending row of chairs. It looked just like
the movies I'd seen. The glass in between and the phones resting on the wall
beside it.

They led me down to the end and told me it'd be a few minutes. I sat down in the
chair and looked nervously around the area. There were a few other visitors
talking with their inmates, but for the most part it was empty.

I glanced across, through the glass and imagined him sitting in that chair. I knew
once he was here, I wouldn't have much time to plead my case. He was obviously
going to know fairly quickly that I wasn't Alice. I had to make him see.

"Masen!" Someone yelled. "Seat twenty five, keep moving!"

I sat straight up and held my breath as he came into view through the glass. He
was looking down at the floor as he sat down cockeyed and slung his arm over
the back of his chair. He raised his head and immediately froze. His eyes
narrowed into mine, recognizing the unfamiliar stare looking back at him.

He mumbled something like, "You aren't my sister." I couldn't quite understand it
behind the muffling of the glass. He glared at me before turning his head over his
shoulder and yelling for a guard.

No! I thought. I was panicking. This was it. I had to make it work now or it was
over. I leaned forward and knocked frantically on the glass trying to get his

attention. He looked back at me and cocked his eyebrow as I slowly reached for
the phone. He sighed and did the same, although he looked beyond irritated that
I'd called him out here under false pretenses.

"You have ten seconds before I get your ass kicked out of here," he said.

"Okay," I breathed. "I know I shouldn't have said I was Alice, but I just had to
talk to you. I know you don't know me…" I started talking faster as I noticed the
guard approaching. "My name is Isabella Swan, I wrote to you…"

The guard stepped beside Edward. "Problem, Masen?" I heard him ask in the
background.

Edward stared at me for the longest time, his jaw slightly slack. "No. No
problem," he said.

"Then why the fuck did you call me over here?"

"Just to watch you walk away again, muffin." Edward winked and laughed as the
guard shook his head and walked away. "You're a persistent little one aren't
you?" He asked me, turning back towards the glass.

"You wouldn't answer my letters."

"I thought maybe you'd get the hint after I sent them back a few times, but
apparently I was mistaken."

"Mr. Masen, please agree to these interviews. I'm interested in your life, how you
grew up, your family, what happened with Tanya. I want to hear all of it."

"Nobody wants to hear any of it," he said, turning angry. "Nobody."

"I do."

"I call bullshit."

I felt a lump rise to my throat. He wasn't going to do it. I was going to have to
scrap everything and start over. I was going to be so behind.

I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes as I slowly nodded my head. It turned
into a shake as I adamantly fought against accepting his rejection.

"It's not…bullshit!" I said, a little louder than I expected.

"How'd you get in here anyway?" He asked, seemingly curious.

"I used your sister's driver's license. She dropped it after we had lunch at the
diner."

"Alice talked to you?" His brow furrowed.

"Yes."

He tapped his finger slowly on the countertop as a smug smirk spread across his
lips. "I'll talk to my lawyer about arranging the interviews." He stood from the
chair. "And give my sister her ID back; she's probably shitting a brick right now."

"So…you're saying yes?" I squeaked.

"I'm saying yes."

November

Edward's lawyer called me two weeks later and said he'd somehow managed to
convince the prison to allow me to interview him. There would be strict guidelines
of where and when these interviews could take place, but the important part was
that they were taking place.

"When would you like to schedule your first interview?" He asked.

"As soon as possible."

"I'll see if I can set up something for tomorrow. I'll be in touch." He hung up,
leaving me with a loud dial tone blaring in my ear.

"Bella!" Rose yelled "Get your cute butt in here or I'm going to blow out your
birthday candles myself!"

Despite the birthday celebration, my birthday was over two months ago. My mom
wasn't able to visit then so she made me promise to do a redo when she got
here.

"Coming!" I hopped up from my bed and skipped out into the living room. Rose,
her boyfriend Emmett and my mother were waiting impatiently for me. My
second 23rd birthday cake was sitting on the counter, candles aglow and looking
delicious.

After we were finished with cake, my mother pulled me aside with that look on
her face that said she was about to complain about something. You know,
eyebrows pulled tightly together, slight sad smile on her lips. That one.

"Honey," she said softly. "Are you sure you want to do this thing with
this…Edward person? I mean isn't he dangerous. I read all about what happened
with that girl."

"It's not like we're going out for a walk in a dark alley, Mom," I laughed. "He is in
prison."

"Okay. Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want you getting too involved."

"I promise." I leaned forward and hugged her, even though I was internally
rolling my eyes at her suggestion. Get too involved? Please.

I got a call too early the next morning from Edward's lawyer confirming the
interview for today. Afterward, I got up and showered. I went with something a
little more casual today since I wasn't really interested in wearing dress clothes
while conducting the interview.

I brought my pen and notebook with a few questions already written down. When
I got to the prison, they asked for my identification and checked my name on the
list. It was the same guy from before and he looked at me with a tinge of anger
like he recognized me. They checked my things and did another pat down before
they led me back to the same row of windows from before.

Edward was already waiting for me with his arms settled across his chest.

"You look tired," he said.

"Isn't that just another way of telling someone they look like shit?" I had to admit
that I was a little hung over. I needed to stop drinking with my mother. She was
much more of a college student than I was.

"Okay," he smiled. "You look like shit."

I arched my eyebrow, surprised at his blunt comment. "Thanks," I mumbled
sarcastically.

"Long night?"

"We celebrated my birthday last night." I settled back into my chair and pulled
out my things. "Okay I'd like to get started talking about your childhood…" I
figured that Tanya was a touchy subject so I wanted to ease into it.

"Happy Birthday," he said.

"It wasn't really my birthday." I shook my head. "It was in September."

He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay." He nodded. "Did you get
anything nice for your non-birthday birthday, Isabella?"

"Call me Bella. And this interview isn't about me, Mr. Masen." I stared him
straight in the eye.

"Call me Edward." He grinned. "Why not?" He leaned back in his chair, seemingly
amused.

"Because I'm not the subject of the research paper."

"And how do you know I'm not writing my own research paper?"

I shook my head and tapped my pen on my notebook. "Yes. I got some nice
things for my birthday."

"Like what?"

"What'd you get for your last birthday?" I asked, my hand clamping around my
pen in frustration.

"We're not too keen on birthdays in my neck of the woods lately, but the guys in
the cells around me sprung for a pack of cigarettes."

For some reason that made me sad. My parents always made it a point to make a
big deal out of birthdays. He got a free ticket to lung cancer. I got a brand new
IPod. It made me feel like an asshole.

Why do you feel bad for him? He killed someone, Bella. I shook it all away and
cleared my throat. "Was your family just never big on birthdays?" I asked softly.

"No they were. But since I've been in here, there really hasn't been a reason to
celebrate one. It's not like I'll be around next year so celebrating being one year
older doesn't really matter in the large scheme of things does it?" He cocked his
eyebrow and leaned back.

His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth and I couldn't help but focus on the
small gleam of his tooth digging into his flesh. My heart beat quickly and hard
against my chest as my eyes traveled up his jaw to his cheek. There was a small
scar right under his right eye…and those eyes. They were so deep and green that

I thought I might get lost in them. But there was a stone cold roughness behind
them that scared me. The eyes of a killer. A charmingly, beautiful monster.

I blinked and refocused on my notebook with my few questions.

"So. Shall we get started?"

December

I'd been meeting with Edward once, sometimes twice a week. We talked a little
about his childhood, but most of the time getting answers from him was like
pulling teeth. I knew I'd eventually have to get to the tough stuff if I wanted to
get anything good for this paper, but I knew that a part of me was scared to
breach the elephant in the room.

"What's on your mind, Bic?"

I looked up from my notes. "Bic?"

"Yeah. You always use Bic pens." He nodded to my notebook. "Blue, black, red.
All Bic."

"I guess I never really noticed."

"You noticed."

"Okay so let's get back to when you first got to the Cullens…"

We'd covered a lot about his childhood. He got yanked from his parents' house
when he was four because of their drug habit and was placed in foster care. After
that, it was a string of screw ups and shuffling. Different homes, different
families, different schools. As he spoke about his experiences, I couldn't help but
think that the system failed him.

"Let's see. My last foster dad had just kicked the ever living shit out of me." He
scratched his head. "Put me in the hospital, which is where I met Carlisle. He
uh…took a liking to me I guess."

"And why was that?"

"He thought he could…save me, or some bullshit." He shook his head.

"Why is that bullshit? Being saved?"

"Because people like me don't get saved, Bella." He looked up at me and
shrugged.

"People like you?"

He laughed under his breath. "I'm no good, you know that right?"

"How do I know that?"

"Because." He looked down at his fingers. "That's what they all tell you."

I cleared my throat and looked down at my paper. "So tell me about high school."

"Hell on Earth. You know the typical scene."

I started getting nervous because I knew we were getting close to the subject I'd
wanted to breach this whole time. Tanya. He met Tanya in high school.

"Anything else?" I whispered.

"No." He glared at me, telling me that the subject was finished…for now.

"Well then I guess we're finished for today, have a nice holid…ay…" I trailed off,
internally cursing myself for the slip.

"Oh I'm sure I will," he said sarcastically.

"Well…" I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Goodbye, Edward." I
started to hang up the phone, but he spoke again.

"You know, Bic, you've been talking to me for almost two months now about my
endless string of shitty circumstances, but do you really know a fucking thing
about me?"

My heart fluttered in my chest. There was something in his voice. Almost a
challenge. It made me nervous.

I opened up my notes and started reading with a shaky voice. "Edward Anthony
Masen. Born June 20…"

"My birthday doesn't tell you anything about me, except my age."

"So what would you suggest?" I stomped my foot and sighed.

"Two weeks. Give me two weeks."

"Two weeks for what?"

"Two weeks to change your mind." He smirked.

"You know you smile a lot for someone in your…predicament."

"Smiling's all I got." He grinned again and called for the guard. "Two weeks, Bic."

January

I got a call from Edward's lawyer towards the end of January to set up the next
interview. I obviously didn't really know what to expect, now that I'd agreed to
his ridiculous request. I still had no idea why I'd even agreed. It was ludacris. I
was supposed to be running the show.

"He said to come later today, around 3. We've made some special
arrangements," he said.

"Special arrangements?" I asked.

"They'll show you when you get there."

I swallowed hard as he hung up. Special arrangements? What the hell did that
mean?

I arrived at the prison extra early just because I was so anxious. They did the
normal things, patted me down, and checked my ID. I started shuffling towards

the regular room, but the guard shook her head and led me down another
hallway. Different.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I don't know what kind of people you know, Miss. But this is unheard of," she
said, not really answering my question.

We passed through a doorway and into a cage of some sort, surrounded by
prison bars. As soon as the door behind us shut, the one in front of us opened
and we stepped into along corridor. My fingers trembled as we started down the
never-ending row of cells. There were soft murmurs and a few cat calls as we
passed by the prisoners, but I tried not to look at them. I chanced a glance once
and was met by a very rude gesture so I tried to just look at my feet the rest of
the way.

I didn't even realize that the guard had stopped and I ran directly into her.

"Miss Swan," she said.

"Sorry." I cleared my throat and looked up. We'd stopped at one of the cells at
the end. There was a chair outside, sitting relatively close to the bars, but far
enough away to put some space between.

"No physical touching," she said. "I'll be right down the hall there." She nodded to
the side.

"I'm sorry, physical touching?"

"Bic," Edward said. I turned to the side and saw him staring right at me, through
the bars of his cell. He gripped the bars with his fingers and rested his forehead
on the metal.

I couldn't help but focus on his fingers. They were right there. If I really wanted
to, despite the guard's warning, I could reach out and touch him. We were that
close.

My chest silently heaved up and down as I contemplated our situation. I had no
idea how he pulled this, but it was a completely different experience.

I nodded to the guard and sat down in the chair provided for me. She glanced at
Edward before shuffling down the hallway. She took her position at the end, still
able to watch us, but out of an ear shot.

Another cat call echoed down the hall.

"Sorry about that," Edward said. He glanced up at me.

"How?" I whispered.

"I've got my ways." He smiled sadly and shifted his weight.

Even through the wretched smell of urine and human filth, I could finally smell
him now. It seemed like such a little thing. How a man smelled. But it changed
the experience of Edward. He smelled clean, unlike his comrades, almost with a
hint of spearmint like my favorite gum.

"Do I smell bad?" He asked with a small laugh.

I realized I was leaning in close to him, making a strange face. I didn't mean it in
a bad way. I was just surprised.

"No, I…" I started.

He smiled and stepped back from the bars, pulling his shirt off as he went. My
eyes widened as I took in the various tattoos across his back and arms. He
turned and pulled on another shirt before sitting down on his bed.

"So what do you think?" He asked.

"About what?"

"About my place?" He gestured around. I took in the small cell that he called
home and noticed several things. I saw a picture of who I assumed to be the
Cullen family. I recognized Alice and her mother standing with a handsome man
in front of their house.

There were also several sketches plastered up onto the walls, all drawn in pencil.
I glanced back at Edward and noticed the smudged lead stains on his hands.

"You drew these?" I asked. I got up from my chair and stepped closer, careful not
to touch him. No physical contact.

"Yeah," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

"I had…no idea you were such a talented artist." I took in the rest of them,
lingering inches from the bars. "They're beautiful."

"Thanks." He stood up and stepped closer to point at one close to the bars. "I
always loved to sketch, but I never really started working on it seriously until I
got to the community center." He noted the sketch of a building. "Spent most of
my time there once I got here. Started volunteering there about six months
before…" He trailed off.

My mind raced back to Tanya's murder. She was found at the community center.
I shivered as my eyes flickered towards him. He was right there again. Close
enough that I could almost feel his breath on my face. Something about him
made me want to reach out and touch him, run my finger along the soft stubble
on his jaw.

I shook my head. "Get a grip," I whispered.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Nothing." I cleared my throat and forced myself to step back. I sat down in the
chair and crossed my arms.

He started pacing back and forth in front of me, rubbing his hands over his jaw
right where I wanted to touch him.

"Edward, what do you want to accomplish?" I waved between us. "With this.
What's in it for you?"

"You think something's in it for me?" He laughed darkly. "I'm sitting on death
row. With nothing to do but wait until they stick that fucking needle in my arm."
He pulled his chair close to mine, screeching it across the hard concrete. "I just
want someone to listen."

"Okay," I shrugged. "So talk."

And he did.

The strangest thing began to happen. I started forgetting where I was. Who he
was. I didn't see the prison guards or the handcuffs. A part of me was connecting
with him, and I mean really connecting. He talked about his love for music, for
Alice. God, he loved Alice. He talked about her like she was really his sister,
someone he wanted to protect against anything and everything. It made me
wonder how someone with that kind of love could ever have so much hate for
another that they would take their life. It didn't make sense.

The sketches were his only way to escape this Hell he was living in. It was like his
own mirror to outside world, but the sad part was that he could only escape to
places he knew. He'd never…ever know anything other than this. Almost like he
was stuck in Limbo. Unable to live and unable to die. It was like he was nothing
at all and everything at the same time. Everything.

February

Something had changed in those two weeks. I hated to admit that he was right. I
knew nothing about him before those two weeks. Nothing.

I was sure all the other inmates had their own stories. Their own passions, their
own wishes and hopes and dreams. But there was something about Edward that
made me feel like he stood out. He was different from the others. In some way,
even though I couldn't put my finger on it, he was different.

Even though my interviews had gone somewhat back to normal, the tone was
completely different. I felt more like I was talking to a friend, which was strange
to say about a convicted killer. I started losing touch with reality, the reality of
him. Every time I set foot in that hallway and sat in that chair, the world
disappeared. It was just me and him. You would think spending hours in a prison
would make you want for your own freedom, but I started to hate leaving. I
always wanted to ask one more question, just to hear one more thing about him
just like turning one more page in a book.

I was a little nervous today. I'd met with my professor yesterday and although he
was impressed with the depth of my interview, he wanted more. He wanted me
to get to the center of the story, of Edward's story. We kept skirting around the
topic of Tanya and I was sure I was subconsciously letting him do it. I didn't want
this…pseudo friendship of ours to disappear. As long as we kept her out of it, I
could still pretend.

I'd let everything slip to Rose, how I was fighting to remain professional with
Edward. And I didn't mean in thatway because obviously even if I wanted to, we
were literally separated and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. I couldn't
help but...feel for him. In some way. I wasn't sure I quite understood it or knew
what to do with it, but it was there.

I didn't dare tell my mother. She'd warned me about getting too involved. Even
though I scoffed at her before, I understood now. It was merely impossible to
dive into someone's life as completely as I'd done and not get too involved;
especially with someone like Edward.

"You look a little tense," Edward said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah." I traced Tanya's name again and again in my notebook until I tore
through the page. I sighed. "Edward, we have to talk about her."

He sunk down into his bed and lowered his head. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet her?" I stuttered.

"I first met Tanya Denali at the diner in downtown Forks. She was waitressing
there to earn extra money for college."

"And were you two…friends?" I'd heard all those things everyone had said about
Edward. That he was obsessed with her. That he stalked her. Their image of him
didn't seem to match the one sitting in front of me.

He cocked his eyebrow. "I know what they say, Bic."

"So it's not true?" I asked.

"Have you ever told the truth, a ridiculous truth, and no one believed you?" He
whispered.

I didn't know how to answer and I didn't really know what he was asking. What
was his ridiculous truth?

"What is it?"

"Tanya and I were…involved."

"I thought she was dating James?" I leaned forward.

"She was. He was..perfect." He winced. "Her parents loved him. Trust fund baby
waiting on his acceptance letter to some preppy ass school out east." He shook
his head. "And I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks."

"So you two hid your relationship?" I wasn't quite sure if I believed him yet, but I
was still interested in his side of the story.

"Hid is an understatement. She didn't even tell her sisters. The only other person
that knew was my friend Jasper. We used to meet at his apartment."

Meetings at night. Sneaking out. I guess it wasn't that unbelievable for a teenage
girl. "Was it just about…um…sex?"

Edward blushed a little. "No. It wasn't just about sex. We understood each other.
Both stuck in a life we didn't want. Somehow we found a piece that was missing
in each other." He looked down at the ground. "I even got her to start
volunteering with me at the community center."

"Did James ever find out?"

"James…found out on the night of April 18th."

That date stuck out like a sore thumb to me, a bright neon light flashing in my
brain. "That was the night she died," I whispered. He sat back in his chair. "So
you're saying…"

"I didn't kill her."

I didn't breathe. My mind started racing with all of these questions, all centering
around those four words. I shouldn't believe him. Isn't it normal to defend
yourself? Even if you have to lie? Believing him would change everything again.
And I wasn't so sure that I would be able to let it go. I couldn't believe him. But I
did.

"Guard!" I yelled.

Edward's brow furrowed in confusion as he jumped from the bed, his eyes wide
with panic. "Bella?" The wounded expression on his face said it all. He was
scared. For the first time since I'd met Edward Masen, he was terrified.

"Is there a problem, Miss Swan?" The guard asked.

"I'm ready to leave."

"Leave?" Edward whispered.

I took a step closer to his cell. "I'll be back again, I promise." I wanted to reach
out and touch him again. My fingers were tingling with the sensation so badly; I
had to clench them together to hold them back.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"If Tanya was as in love with you as she let on, there was no way she kept it all
inside. She had to tell someone, keep momentous, a diary, something."

"I already told the cops that." He glanced at the guard. "They did a piss poor job
of searching for evidence, probably because they thought I was lying. Even my
attorneys…." He shook his head. "Carlisle hired the best defense attorneys in the
state and they couldn't find anything."

"I'll be back." I nodded reassuringly and allowed the guard to lead me out. They
may have been the best attorneys in the state, but they didn't have what I had. A
secret weapon. And man was she going to flip a shit when I told her.

March

"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked. The pearls draped around my neck
felt foreign, probably because I'd never worn a necklace like this in my entire life.
Thankfully Rose was a trust fund baby like James and had things like this just
lying around. Too bad she didn't have the personality to go along with it.

"Yes." She nodded and stepped up to the front porch. "It will work."

"Don't you feel a little bad manipulating her mother like this?"

"Don't you feel a little bad Edward is going to die for something you don't believe
he did?" She snapped. I shut my mouth.

She looked up and blinked a few times, forcing a fake tear down her cheek,
before she knocked. A few moments later, a woman answered the door.

"Yes?" She asked, glancing between the two of us.

"Mrs. Denali?" Rose cried.

"Yes?"

Rose dramatically threw herself at Mrs. Denali and sobbed on her shoulder.
"Tanya always spoke so highly of you."

"Were you..friends with my daughter?" Mrs. Denali asked.

"We went to camp together," Rose said. I had no idea which camp she was
talking about, but I guess most people in Tanya's position go to some type of
camp, right?

"That must be why you don't look familiar," Mrs. Denali said. She pulled back and
smiled sadly. "Won't you come in…?"

"Gretchen," Rose said, lying about her name. Mrs. Denali turned to me.

"Tracy." I nodded.

She opened the door for us and led us inside. "Would you like something to
drink?" She asked.

"No, thank you," I said.

"Please, have a seat." She gestured to the couch and sat down in a chair beside
us.

"We're so sorry we couldn't make it to the funeral. We were vacationing with our
family in the Alps and didn't even get the news until we returned," Rose said.
"We're so sorry for your loss."

And I was. I felt terrible about what we were doing, but if it saved Edward then it
was worth it. I looked around the room as Rose drabbled on about whatever
nonsense she was making up about our fake lives. There were several pictures of
Tanya around the room. She was a beautiful girl; petite frame, pretty eyes with
strawberry blonde hair. She looked like the perfect Barbie Doll. Most people
would look at her and see a happy young woman. I saw someone completely
lifeless behind her eyes.

"I kept everything just like she left it," Mrs. Denali said, pulling me back into the
conversation. Rose must have gotten her to let us see her room.

"Are you sure?" Rose asked.

"Of course." Mrs. Denali stood and led us upstairs and to the first room on the
right. She opened the door and took a deep breath as we walked past her.

Tanya's room looked like almost every other teenage girl's would have. Posters of
her favorite bands taped to the wall, ballet awards sitting on a shelf over her bed.
There was a desk in the corner and a journal sitting on top.

"Is this?" I asked, reaching for it.

"It's her diary. I couldn't bring myself to read it, but the police obviously wanted
to for their…investigation." She nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I'll
give you two a moment to say your goodbye."

I felt so sad, about all of it. I was sad for Edward, sad for Tanya, sad for her
mother. It was a twisted tragedy that changed everyone's life. And now it might
end his.

She turned to leave.

"Mrs. Denali?" I called. She turned back. "I'm really sorry for your loss."

She smiled sadly. "Thank you, dear." She closed the door softly behind her as she
left the room.

"Okay let's Nancy Drew this bitch," Rose said. She started rifling through the
room, looking for any evidence of Tanya and Edward's relationship. I doubted we
would find anything, but then again knowing the justice system around these
parts, I wouldn't be that surprised if they did a shitty job at searching the place.
It was part of the reason my dad got out. There was too much influence, too
much affecting actual justice. He was one of the few good ones left. "Check her
diary," Rose said.

I nodded sadly and reached for her journal. I felt terrible about reading it. If
there was no possibility that it could save Edward, I wouldn't have laid a finger on
it. A girl's diary is private and I would never break that if it wasn't important.

I skimmed through, occasionally stopping to read a page or two. It was all about
James or her family. Nothing about Edward. Although the stuff in there about
James wasn't that glamorous. He seemed like a possessive asshole to me.

"Anything?" Rose asked from Tanya's closet.

"Nope." I flipped the diary back and forth, looking down at its spine. I stopped
and looked down. Something was off. The spaces between the pages varied,
almost like something was pushing them apart.

I opened it again and held the pages close to my face. "What the hell…" I
whispered.

"What?" Rose asked.

I leaned in closer and ran my finger along the inside spine. It was rough and
ragged. Someone had ripped the pages out. Someone had ripped the pages out
really well.

"There are pages missing," I mumbled.

"Really?" She suddenly appeared next to me. "Good find, Swan. You are your
father's daughter."

"How could they miss that?" I shook my head. "Someone has obviously tampered
with this."

"Maybe they didn't miss it," she said. "Maybe they purposely looked past it."

"Why?"

"Because they wanted to believe that Edward did it?"

I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair. "There has to be more." I was
suddenly more determined than ever to help him. Before I felt in my gut that he
was telling the truth, but now that we had some type of evidence that something
was fishy, I was intent on finding the real truth.

Rose quickly turned her closet upside down as I searched Tanya's drawers in the
chests beside her bed. There was nothing. I racked my brain, trying to think of
where she would hide things that she didn't want found.

"Somewhere that doesn't exist," I said, looking back at the small nightstand. It
was a long shot, but I knew that some of these things had secret compartments.
Especially if they were as old as this one looked.

I knelt down beside it and felt around below. I almost missed it, the line was so
thin. But it was there; a small break in the wood. I bit down on my lip and

pushed up, hoping it would give way or move somewhere. It clicked and lifted up
before falling back down into my hands.

"Oh God," I whispered. I pulled out the small compartment from under the table
and gasped. Pictures.

I grabbed them and started rifling through them. Her and Edward. Smiling.
Hugging. Kissing. She looked…happy. Completely different from her picture
downstairs. And definitely not the face of someone who was being stalked by an
obsessive creep.

He was innocent.

April

My foot tapped anxiously against the concrete as I watched Edward flip through
the pictures.

"I want to know what happened the night that she died," I said.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I'm going to save you. I need to know. I need to know everything so I
can tell my dad. He can help."

"You can't save me, Bella." He shook his head. "It's too late."

"It's not too late!" I screamed. I stood up and stalked towards his cell. The guard
at the end of the hallway watched us intently to make sure we didn't touch each
other. He rested his head against the bars as his hand gripped one so tightly, his
knuckles were white.

"They moved up my date," he mumbled.

"What?" I said, barely above a whisper.

"It's next month."

"I don't understand. How can they do that? How can they?"

"Because they do whatever the fuck they want to. I guess they figured they were
sick of feeding me."

"I need to go now. I need to show them these pictures; I need to talk to the
police." I reached for the pictures in his other hand, but he pulled back.

"It won't help." He smiled sadly at me. "I know they say pictures say a thousand
words, but they don't mean a damn thing."

"Edward, you can't give up." I shook my head and felt my knees wobble. The
tears started to prickle behind my eyes and before long they were tumbling down
my cheeks so hard I thought they would sound against the concrete floor. "I can
save you," I stammered.

"You already saved me, Bic." He reached out like he was going to touch my face,
but he held back just before his fingers met my skin. "These last months were my
best ones in here and it was because of you." He bit down on his lip. "You showed
me the beauty of life again."

"How is that possible when your life is over?" I sobbed.

"Because I fell for you," he said. "And damnit I hope you didn't fall back. I don't
want this for you."

My breath hitched in my throat. He fell for me? Was that even possible? Without
a single touch or kiss, had he fallen in love with me?

I wiped the tears from my face and tried to focus. This pain in my heart, I didn't
understand it. I wasn't supposed to get involved. But it was too late now. Maybe
it'd taken him admitting it to make me admit it to myself, but there it was plain
as day. Through his cocky attitude, defiance and avoidance…through our talks
about his art and his dream of going to college out east, I'd fallen too. I'd fallen in
love with a man condemned to death. And he was telling me not to fight for his
life.

"Don't tell me not to try, please…" I whispered.

"I don't think I could tell you what to do anyway." He laughed under his breath.
"You should go."

"What? Why?"

"Because if you don't get a fucking A on this paper about my life, I'm going to
come back and haunt you."

"That's not funny, Edward."

"I know it isn't." His smile fell. "I'm not going to let you sit here and wait for me
to die."

"No." I shook my head.

"Guard!" Edward yelled.

"No!" I screamed. I reached out for the bars, not caring that my fingers were
touching his.

"Guard!" He yelled again, brushing his finger softly up and down mine. He
reached through the bars just before the guard reached us and grabbed my face.
He pulled me gently towards him and pressed against the bars, struggling to pull
me close. I felt him kiss the top of my head as the guard grabbed my arm and
started to pull me away.

I struggled against him as I looked back up at Edward. His eyes were glazed
over, threatening to spill with tears as he ran his fingers through his hair and
started pacing his cell.

"Edward!" I screamed. "I love you, please!"

"I love you, Bic."

As they pulled me down the hallway, he got smaller and smaller until I couldn't
see him anymore. The next thing I knew I was out in the lobby crying
hysterically. Everyone was looking at me like I was some crazy person. They
didn't understand. This was just a job for them. And the others were just
criminals. Edward was just a criminal to them. It only took an instant to realize
he was so much more to me.

Once I was outside, I climbed into my car and told myself to stop crying before I
sped to my dad's house. I ran inside and called for my dad as I clutched tightly to
the few pictures I'd been able to keep in my possession. They had to be enough.

"Dad!" I screamed.

"Bella?" He called from the kitchen. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

"You have to help him!" I clutched his arm. "You have to help him, he didn't do
it!"

"What?"

"Edward Masen. He didn't kill Tanya." I flung the pictures in his face and started
retelling the whole story, except the part that I still didn't have. Edward's side.

Charlie put on his glasses and sat down as he flipped through the pictures. "I
don't remember these from the case file."

"That's because they weren't there. Dad, I know he didn't do it. He's going to die
for someone else's mistake. Isn't there someone you can talk to? Someone who
can help?"

"Bella, I don't have that type of pull. And even if I did, it takes a long time to go
through the process of overturning this kind of conviction."

"Can't you get a stay of execution while they look at it? Come on, you have to
admit these pictures change things."

"It does put a spin on things. But I just don't know what I can do honey. It might
be too late. It's not really in our hands anymore. There are police and judges and
the court system involved."

"Can you just…try? Please, just try."

"Look, he seemed like a nice enough kid who just ended up in a lot of bad
circumstances. But the odds were against him in this case. No one knew about
this supposed relationship."

"But what if someone found out!" I ran my fingers through my hair. "That night
at the party. What if Tanya rejected him because she didn't want anyone to find
out? Edward worked at the community center so maybe they met there after it.
What if someone followed? James Volturi had the entire motive in the world to kill
her if she was lying to him about Edward."

"Damnit, Bella! You can't go around just accusing people of murder!" He stomped
his foot. "Now, I said I'd take these in to some guys at the station, but after that
it's out of our hands. I never had any problems with James Volturi and it ain't
right to go pointing your fingers when you don't know the whole story."

"They don't know Edward's story, Dad! I do!" I got up and stomped from the
house, feeling completely helpless.

When I got back to the apartment, I told Rose everything while she rubbed my
back and fed me ice cream.

"I don't think Chunky Monkey is going to cure this." I sniffled.

"Well, sweetie, you fell in love with a death row inmate. There aren't many things
beyond a miracle that would make this any better." She leaned closer. "You really
truly love him?"

"Yes."

"Then there's something you have to do," she said.

"What?"

"Never…ever, give up hope."

May

Isabella,

I still have not received your final paper. I have given you two extensions and I'm
afraid that I can no longer put off turning in your grade to the university. If I
have not received it by midnight Tuesday, I will have to give you an incomplete. I
really don't want to do this. Please get back to me ASAP.

Professor Cantone

I stared at the email and the blinking cursor on my blank reply. The file was
attached. Hell, I'd finished the paper two weeks ago. It'd given me something to
focus on besides Edward. He wasn't accepting visitors at the prison, or more
likely wasn't accepting visits from me. I know he wanted to save me from the
pain, but not seeing him didn't make the pain go away. It was going to hurt
anyway. It was too late to avoid it.

I just couldn't push myself to send in the paper. Sending in the paper meant
everything was finished. I think I subconsciously thought that as long as I had
the paper, there was more to be discovered. I could still theoretically ask more
questions. Edward would still be alive.

My father had held up his part of the bargain. He'd gone into the station and
talked to some of his buddies about the photos, seeing if anything could be done
to reopen the case. They had to take it to their supervisor, who had to take it to
his supervisor, and so on. It felt like he was just getting lost in the system.
Nobody cared once they got the guilty verdict. And no one in that office wanted
to admit that they got the wrong guy.

I went down to the station every day. Every. Single. Day. They eventually just
had any updates for me waiting at the desk, which didn't happen often. Nobody
cared.

I tried to avoid the news and the papers…and the internet. I felt like there was
always an article about Edward's impending execution as it drew near. A part of
me didn't want to know the exact date and so far I'd avoided it. It wasn't like I'd
be able to sit around that day and eat cereal while I watched cartoons in the
morning. I wouldn't sleep. I wouldn't speak. I wouldn't breathe. And then they'd
expect me to go on like it was any other day. It wasn't. It was the day. The day I
would lose him. I wasn't ready to lose him yet.

The dreams were the worst part of it. Anyone else would call them dreams, but
they were really nightmares to me. I dreamt of him. In a normal life. With me. It
was hell to go to sleep.

I was sitting on the couch with my sweatpants on, playing a game of solitaire on
my laptop because I didn't have anything else to fucking do. I still hadn't psyched
myself up enough to send in my paper. I'd probably have to tell Rose to do it for
me so I didn't get an incomplete for the course.

A knock on the door made me jump. I turned and slowly got up from the couch,
pulling my hair back as I went. The person standing on the other side of the door
was the last one I expected to see.

"Alice?" I said. I opened the door for her. "Come in."

She smiled sadly and stepped inside. She looked like shit…like she hadn't slept in
days, like her world was ending. I recognized it because it was the same look that
I saw in the mirror this morning.

"I'm sorry to surprise you like this," she said softly.

"It's okay." I sat back down on the couch.

"I talked to him," she said.

"Oh?" I perked up a little. "How is he?"

"He acts like he's fine, but I know he's not. He misses you." She looked up at me.
"Bella, I know how crazy it must seem. For him to love you. But I know my
brother. You…stole his heart over these past months. Completely. I don't know
how you did it, but I can see it in his eyes," she stammered. "And as much as I
don't want to put you through it and as much as he doesn't want you to go
through it, I know he needs you there, if you'll go."

"Go where?" I asked.

"It's tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I whispered. I guess I should have expected to be surprised. I didn't
expect the pain. The gut wrenching, heart piercing pain that shot through my
body. It was tomorrow.

"I talked to his attorney and pulled some strings to get you on the list. They only
really allow the family and the victim's family, but I told them it was a special
circumstance." She nodded. "After a bit of persuasion, I got them to see it my
way."

"Wow, Alice…" I trailed off. Could I go? Could I go and watch him die? I knew I
needed to be there, but I didn't know if I could. It would break me.

"Doesn't matter," I told myself. "I'll be there. What time?"

"We need to be there at 9:30 in the morning."

"Okay." I nodded as she stood. "Thank you."

"Thank you. I haven't seen him smile in a long time and he…genuinely smiled
when he was talking about you. Dropping my I.D. might have saved his life." The
look in her eyes told me she knew the meaning of her words. I couldn't keep his
heart beating, but he was more alive than ever.

Alice nodded and walked out the door, leaving me completely alone.

Rose stayed in my room that night, holding me while I lay awake. I wanted to
cry, but I couldn't even force myself to do that. I felt nothing.

I finally got up around five and took a shower. Rose finally sent in my paper for
me and we both sat down in the living room, waiting until I had to go.

I left the house around 8:30 and headed towards the prison. They all knew me by
now. The guard at the front checked the list for my name before leading me to a
small room. I sat down in one of the chairs and waited for a long time. I heard
Alice's voice outside in the hallway before it disappeared again. The family must
be in another room beforehand. I kind of hated being left alone in here. There
was nothing in the room except for two chairs and a table.

The door opened and I sighed. "Could I at least get a glass of water or
something?" I asked. When no one answered, I turned around and nearly fell to
my knees. "Edward?"

"Hey, Bic." He smiled. He was alone, but the shackles were still around his wrists
and ankles. I heard the guard lock the door, closing us in here completely alone. I
could hear my breathing, loud and obnoxious against the silence. "I didn't
think…" He shook his head. "I didn't want you to see this."

I took a few steps towards him, unsure of how to act now that we had no barrier
between us. It was just me and him. No bars. No guards. Just us. "I needed to be
here…" I whispered. I finally reached him and tentatively reached out to touch his
chest. My fingers laid flat against him, relishing the feel of him. He hummed and
dropped his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you…" I cried.

"Stop it," he said. He reached up and brushed my hair out of my face. "God,
you're beautiful. I wish I was going to Heaven so I could see your face every
day."

"What makes you think you aren't going to Heaven?" I grasped his shirt tightly
and leaned in to rest my forehead against him. "You don't belong in Hell,
Edward."

"I never really belonged anywhere." He cupped my face, causing the chains to
clang together. He tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to his. I reached up and
shivered as I ran my fingers through his hair. I couldn't believe I was here.
Touching him, feeling him. It was almost like my dreams, except we were outside
instead of in this stuffy room.

"You belong with me," I mumbled. A tear slipped down my cheek as I leaned
forward and pressed my lips to his. He hummed and moved his mouth against
mine. He reached out to pull me closer, but was only able to grab a fistful of my
shirt. He pulled away for a moment to rest his shackled hands over my shoulders
before kissing me again.

"I promised the guard I wouldn't do that," he mumbled.

I felt more comfortable in this awkward situation with him than I had with any of
my past boyfriends. And he wasn't my boyfriend. I didn't really know what he
was. No, I take that back. He's brilliant. He's funny. He's genuine and talented
and none of the things that they think he is. And he's innocent.

My heart stopped when they knocked on the door.

"Guess our time is up," he said, never breaking his eyes from mine.

"I don't want you to go," I said.

"I don't like being late for appointments," he said, trying to make a joke. He
struggled to pull his arms back over my head, in more ways than one. The guard
opened the door and held it open for him. Edward gave me one last look before
stepping towards me to kiss my forehead. "I love you," he whispered against my
skin.

And then he was gone. I was alone again. They'd left the door open, almost like
they were inviting the entire world in on my heartbreak.

I stood there, frozen for a few minutes with the feel of his lips still lingering on
my flesh. A guard eventually walked by and escorted me to the "viewing room."
It made it sound like we were watching a movie or something. It didn't seem
right.

Alice and Mrs. Cullen were sitting next to a middle-aged blonde haired man who I
assumed was Dr. Cullen. Alice sniffled and held her hand out to me. I grabbed it
and sat down beside her, granting strange looks from Tanya's mother. She
obviously recognized me.

"Are you okay?" Alice whispered, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

"No," I said.

"Me either."

The curtains in front of us opened, revealing a small room. There were a few
people that looked like nurses or doctors standing behind a table. The table was
large enough just to fit a human but had straps all down it and places for the
arms to lie out.

I glanced up at the clock and watched the second hands drag by too quickly and
too slow at the same time. The door swung open and Edward shuffled inside. Mrs.
Cullen started sobbing hysterically as soon as she saw him. Dr. Cullen clung
tightly to her shoulder as he watched his son being led to the table. A priest
approached Edward and spoke to him for a short moment before Edward nodded.

The guard unlocked Edward's shackles and instructed him to lay on the table as
one of the prison employees read a statement basically announcing the execution
and the charges Edward was convicted off. Tanya's mother cried softly in the
corner.

I gripped tightly onto Alice's hand as Edward lay down on the table. The two
nurses came and strapped him down in several places before the doctor
approached him with a needle. Edward's head shot towards me, staring at me
straight through the glass. A tear slipped down my cheek as the doctor forced the
needle through his skin. Edward winced a little, but barely let it show.

I shut the whole world out. It was only me and him. We were back in that room.
His arms were around me and everything felt right. This was so wrong.

I wanted to scream at them to stop. I wanted to pound on the glass, break
through it with my bare hands and pull the needle from his skin. But I couldn't
move. I was held to the chair only by Alice's hand around mine.

"You may now administer the injection," the warden said.

I sobbed loudly, clutching at my chest as the doctor walked over to the machine.
"Don't," I said softly. "Don't!" I screamed. Edward stared at me, telling me in
silence that everything was okay. It wasn't okay. This wasn't okay.

I held my breath as the warden moved his finger to the button. It was strange to
think that one little button could change everything. Life. Death. One button.

I saw Edward take in one deep breath as the warden started to push it down. I
jumped as the door to the room flew open. A guard carrying a piece of paper
scrambled to the warden and spoke softly to him.

"What's happening?" Alice asked.

"I don't know, honey," Dr. Cullen said.

I watched as the warden walked over to Edward and started speaking to him. The
door to our room opened and another guard stepped inside.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" Dr. Cullen
asked.

"We just got word…" The guard said.

"About what?" I asked.

"The judge…he granted a stay of execution."

Edward, Two Years Later

I never thought the day of my execution would be the day my life truly began. I
wasn't ready to die. Hell, I wasn't even ready to accept it. But I guess I just
realized it was going to happen whether I accepted it or not.

I didn't want Bic there. And it wasn't because I didn't want to see her
or…experience another moment with her. I just didn't want her to see it. Fuck, I
didn't even want my family to see it but I knew they wouldn't stay away. Turned
out neither would she.

Kissing her was the best last thing that could have ever happened to me. When
that girl first walked into the prison, I'd built my walls so high that I fought
against her. I fought against myself. But something started to change. Even
behind her standard questions, I saw something in her eyes. More than the static
of the reporters or psychologists or detectives I talked to before. I saw life. And
love.

Most people don't fall in love in prison. But most people don't know Bic. She was
persistent and stubborn as hell and she fucking cared. Even when it seemed
hopeless, she fought against the impossible to try and save me. And she did.

The moment they uttered those three words, all of the air shot out of my lungs
like a bat out of Hell. Stay of execution. It didn't mean I wasn't going to die. It
just meant I had more time. I had more time with my family. I had more time
with her.

Things with Bic were different than they were with Tanya. I loved Tanya. It was
one of the most true and genuine loves I'd ever felt. I guess that wasn't saying
much considering the lack of stable relationships in my life, but that didn't make
it any less true. I was gutted when she died. Even more so when they told me I

did it. I didn't. And I hated myself every day for leaving her alone with him that
night. Maybe that's why I didn't keep appealing my conviction. Part of me felt like
I deserved this. Even if I didn't kill her, I was partly responsible for her death. I
should have known.

James always rubbed me the wrong way and more than just his relationship with
Tanya, if you could call it that. I knew she wasn't happy, but she felt so much
pressure from her parents and friends so she stayed with him. And for some
strange reason I didn't leave her for it. I thought she'd eventually come around,
see how much we were meant to be together. I couldn't have been more wrong.
My life started the day I found Bic staring at me from the other side of that glass.

"Mr. Masen," one of the guards said, interrupting my thoughts. "Never thought I'd
live to see the day you'd walk out of here."

"Isn't that my line?" I smiled and finished filling out my paperwork. The officer at
the desk stamped it in a bunch of different places and my heart fluttered as she
reached down and pulled out a bag of my belongings.

"It was nice to know ya, kid." The guard actually held out his hand to mine.

"Thanks for all of your help, man. I really appreciate everything you did for me in
there." I nodded back towards the cellblock.

"I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks too. Doesn't make us killers." He
patted my back and glanced outside. "I think you've got some people waiting on
you."

"Yes, I do." I smiled and grabbed my bag as I walked outside.

The sunshine hit my skin as soon as I stepped out of the building. It was a little
chilly outside, but I didn't care. I couldn't breathe. And I could finally breathe.

I looked out in front of me and for the first time in a long time I could actually
see. There were no towers, no fences, no buildings in my way. It was absolutely
clear.

"Edward!" Esme called. I took a deep breath and turned towards her voice.
"Honey!" She waved.

Everyone was here. Esme, Carlisle, Alice, even Jasper. And her. There was Bic,
standing next to Alice with her arm around her.

Esme ran over to me, sobbing hysterically and threw her arms around me. "I
thought I would wake up and this would all be a dream, but you're here," she
whispered. "You're here."

"I'm here, Mom." She was the first person I ever called that. Even when I was
younger, I never had a real relationship with my biological mother. Esme was the
first real mother I ever had. She stood by me even when the whole world turned
against me and I was honored that she still called me her son. I was her son.

Carlisle followed soon after and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He was the
silent, proud type, never one to put his emotions on display. But we had an
understanding. He was happy, even if he didn't express it like Esme.

Alice smiled and glanced over at Bic before she ran towards me. I opened my
arms to her a moment before she jumped towards me, wrapping her entire body
around mine. She cried into my neck as I ran my fingers through her hair. "Hey,
Sissy."

"I'm so…" She started. "I don't even know what to say." She shook her head and
sniffled as she clung to me.

While my family and I shared our moments, Bic stood quietly and contently in the
background waiting patiently.

"Go," Esme said. "Go to your girl, Edward." She patted my shoulder. "I was
wrong about her, you know. I should have seen she wasn't like the others." She
kissed my cheek and grabbed Carlisle. They started around the building to the
front where I'm sure reporters were waiting to talk to me. Alice squeezed my
hand before taking Jasper's and following Esme and Carlisle.

When we were alone, I started towards her. She smiled, twirling the flower in her
hand as she waited.

"You got me a present?" I asked, smirking at her.

"Yeah. I didn't really know what the standard…getting out of prison gift was
so…here." She handed me the flower.

"Thanks, Bic." I brought the flower up to my nose and smelled. It was fucking
amazing. A lot different from the piss and sweat smell I was used to.

I wanted to touch her. God, I wanted to touch her. It'd been s since I kissed her
in that room and ever since then I've been aching to feel her. Beside me, against
me, beneath me. I ached. It'd taken too damn long to get my conviction
overturned and the wait almost killed me.

I was able to talk to and see everyone through it all, but it wasn't the same. It
was still through that damn glass. I wanted nothing more than to slam my fist
through it.

"Can I just…kiss you now?" I asked.

"You didn't have to ask," she said.

I quickly reached for her and pulled her close to me, wasting no time in pressing
my lips to hers. She whimpered and kissed me back, smiling against my lips. I
loved the way she tasted. The way she felt. The way she smelled. I loved
everything about her.

I rolled her around and pressed her up against the building that had held me
prisoner for so long. It was a little…hard to express myself. Being in prison didn't
allow for many freedoms and to be honest I had so much sexual frustration built
up that I felt like I was going to burst into a million pieces.

I reached down and palmed her breasts through her shirt as she arched her back
towards me. Our relationship was different than others. Emotionally we were an
old married couple, but physically we were still in our hormonal teenage stage
probably because we had been so limited in that sense.

"I love you," she breathed.

"I love you," I whispered. "Now can we get this press conference over with so I
can be alone with you?" I reached down and tugged at the button on her jeans.

She hummed and wrapped her arms around me once more, giving me the most
amazing hug. "Yep."

She kissed me again and grabbed my hand. We walked around the side of the
building and heard the chatter of the press getting louder and louder. I held
tightly onto her hand, refusing to let go. A part of me was like my mother, scared
that this was all make believe. I had to believe that it was real.

As soon as we rounded the corner, I was blinded by all of the flashbulbs. Two
officers stepped beside us to escort us up to the microphone. My family stood
behind me, smiling in support as I stepped up.

"Uh…hello. My name is Edward Masen. My lawyer stepped up beside me and took
the mic.

"Mr. Masen will answer a few questions, but please keep it brief. I'm sure he
would like to spend time with his family," he said.

"Mr. Masen!" One of the reporters yelled. "How did you make it through your
incarceration for a crime you knew you didn't commit?"

"Well, I…I guess after awhile you just kind of have to keep living even when
you're dying. And my family has always supported me. My fiancée has been there
every step of the way for the last two and a half years."

"Edward, will you be attending James Volturi's trial for the murder of Tanya
Denali?"

I cleared my throat. "That's a tough question." I scratched my head. "I mean I
cared a lot about Tanya and I hope and pray that he finds his justice in that
courtroom. But I've given up enough of my life for that man and I think I'd prefer
not to give him any more of my time."

"How does it feel to be out, Edward?" Another asked.

"Surreal." I shrugged. "I never thought in a million years that I'd see anything
other than that prison or a casket and I'm just…I'm so thankful to everyone who
helped me or loved me or supported me. It's all a foster kid really wants."

"What will you do now?"

"I'd like to go to college, but right now I think I'd better keep my focus on
planning our wedding." I winked at Bic.

"Isabella, everyone knows the story of how you two met now. Did you ever think
it would end up this way?"

Bic blushed and stepped up to the mic. "I uh…no. I didn't. I never thought a term
paper would change my life."

"And did you get an A?" One of the reporters asked with a laugh.

"Yes. I got an A." Bic stepped back smiling and cowered into my side.

"That's all for now," my lawyer said, stepping back in. "We thank in you advance
for honoring Mr. Masen's privacy at this happy time."

The two officers grabbed my arm and started escorting us through the crowd. I
held tightly onto Bic's hand as we headed towards the car that was waiting for us.
As I hopped inside and pulled her with me, someone handed me today's
newspaper. There was a picture of me stuck right on the front of it. I sighed when
I glanced at the headline, feeling my first real wave of relief since I was accused
all those years ago.

Dead Man Walks Free