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Jacob crossed the room in three long strides and dropped to his knees beside Renesmee and me. I 

could feel the heat shaking off his body as tremors rolled down his arms to his shaking hands. 

"Is she okay?" he demanded, touching her forehead, tilting his head as he listened to her heart. "Don't 

mess with me, Bella, please!" 

"Nothing's wrong with Renesmee," I choked out, the words breaking in strange places. 

"Then who?" 

"All of us, Jacob," I whispered. And it was there in my voice, too—the sound of the inside of a grave. 

"It's over. We've all been sentenced to die." 

perhaps have crosses cut upon them, are believed to have been not funeral 

monuments,   but   the   ancient   boundaries   of   the   sanctuary   or   consecrated 

ground. 

     Martin   was   a   man   not   illiterate:     he   was   an   inhabitant   of   Sky,   and 

therefore   was   within   reach   of   intelligence,   and   with   no   great   difficulty 

might have visited the places which he undertakes to describe; yet with all 

his opportunities, he has often suffered himself to be deceived.                      He liv