Prologue: The Little Prince

The house was quieter now. Not silent—there was always the faint hum of life—but quiet enough that Faye sometimes felt like she could hear her thoughts echo back to her. The faint creak of the floorboards, the low groan of the fridge, Sebastian's laugh from the living room—it all blended into the kind of stillness that came when a home had lived through too much.

She leaned against the kitchen counter, her gaze drifting out the small window above the sink. Snow clung stubbornly to the ground outside, refusing to melt even as winter's grip started to loosen. It felt like Timmins itself sometimes—a town frozen in time, where nothing ever really changed.

Sebastian's laugh echoed again, louder this time, tugging her attention back. She turned her head, catching sight of him sprawled on the couch, a comic book in his hands and a bowl of half-eaten cereal balanced precariously on his lap.

He looked so much like their mother.

The thought hit her like it always did—sudden, sharp, and then fading into something softer. She could still hear her mother's voice if she tried, the way it had lit up with joy when she'd talked about names.

"Sebastian," her mother had said, cradling her growing belly with both hands, "he's going to be my little prince." She'd laughed then, her smile wide and warm, her eyes glinting with a secret only she seemed to know. "Like the book. You know, The Little Prince. It's perfect, don't you think?"

Faye hadn't understood it at the time. She'd been too young, too distracted by her own world to grasp the significance. But now, years later, she understood it perfectly. Sebastian had become exactly what their mother had seen in him—curious, bright, endlessly full of questions about the world and the stars and everything in between.

He was her legacy, a piece of her that lived on, even when the rest of the world felt emptier.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Sebastian asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're about to say something embarrassing."

Faye snorted, shaking her head. "You're imagining things."

He narrowed his eyes but didn't press further, returning to his comic with an exaggerated shrug.

She let her gaze linger on him for a moment longer, her heart aching in that strange, familiar way. He wasn't her responsibility, not really—not in the way a parent was supposed to care for their child—but she'd stepped into that role anyway. For him, she'd do it a thousand times over.

For all her doubts, for all the ways she questioned herself, she knew one thing: she would always be there for him. Her little brother. Her mother's prince.

From the corner of the room, the old wall clock ticked steadily, the hands inching closer to eight. Faye glanced at it and sighed, brushing her hands on her jeans. Work was calling.

And outside, in the shadows of Timmins, Edward Cullen was watching.

He wasn't here for her—not at first. He had a mission, a purpose. He was meant to ensure that this town, cold and unchanging as it was, would be safe for his family. The Cullens didn't make decisions lightly, and settling somewhere as small and insular as Timmins carried risks. Edward had come ahead to assess those risks, to scout the area for any threats or unwelcome surprises.

But he hadn't expected her.

He stood at the edge of the forest, hidden among the snow-dusted pines, his sharp eyes tracking the faint glow of the kitchen light. Inside, she moved with an absent ease, her fingers trailing along the countertop as she passed. There was nothing extraordinary about her—not at first glance. And yet, Edward had found himself lingering. Watching.

He told himself it was curiosity. She was human, just like the others in this town, but there was something about her—something that drew him closer. He couldn't explain it, not yet. But he would find out.

For now, he stayed in the shadows, his presence unnoticed. He didn't need to breathe, but if he had, he would have held it, waiting for the moment when she looked toward the window, as if sensing him there. She didn't.

Edward's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned and vanished into the night.

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Word count: 733, 4,125 characters