Bella tiptoed towards the battered door. She reached out her hand and peered inside Long House Lodge. On the ceiling, there was a dusty, old chandelier. In the corner, there was an ancient rocking chair, that slowly rocked. Above Bella’s head, there was cobwebs, that tickled her hair.

Outside, the moon sat perched on the thick, black clouds, as thunder beckoned above Grantham. Inside the gloomy house, a ghostly figure drifted across the shattered window. Bella Swan covered her head with her rain coat, trying to keep dry. Thunder shook the house like an earth quake. The abandoned house flickered, as if speaking to her it whispered, “there is no safe shelter for you here!” But a safe shelter was all she wanted.