Max's ex-girlfriend was most likely not some powerful witch who had died full of grievance—she herself had clearly overthought things.
"Do you have a photo of your ex-girlfriend? Show it to me." Bella spoke in a commanding tone.
Max was already used to it. He hurriedly rummaged through his wallet—and sure enough, he actually carried a photo of himself with his ex-girlfriend.
Bella laughed the moment she saw it. Despite the different hair color and makeup style, she recognized her at a glance. Wasn't this Alice Cullen, the Forks best friend from the Cullen family?
Throughout the entire incident, there had never been any "resurrection witch." From a broader perspective, Alice had never died at all. How could a vampire be killed by a car accident?
Bella asked with amusement, "What name is she using now? Still Alice?"
Max was even more shocked. "Y-you… you know Xiao Ai too?"
Xiao Ai? Calculating it out, she was older than your grandmother.
Bella understood vampire customs fairly well. She knew that Alice had only been playing around—if she were truly asked to spend a lifetime with Max, she wouldn't agree anyway.
Still, the necessary question had to be asked. "Are you planning to give up Alice and stay with Heather?"
"Of course!" Max had been genuinely traumatized by the sight of his ex-girlfriend crawling out of a grave.
"Then I'll help you resolve this."
"Thank you, Boss! Thank you!" The mustached man nodded fervently.
Bella said righteously, "Don't thank me yet. From beginning to end, this was entirely your fault. And because you came to me over such a trivial mess—your salary for this month is gone."
Max stared blankly. His pay was already only eight hundred dollars—and now it was completely docked! Are you even human?!
Even so, he didn't dare argue. He could only smile awkwardly and accept it.
Bella waved at Heather, then pushed open the door and left, driving her pickup truck across the city to find Alice Cullen.
The female vampire hadn't died at all. There had indeed been a car accident, but after lying in the grave for two days, she had fully recovered.
Alice switched back to her black short-haired look. The tattered white burial robe had already been tossed into the trash. Now dressed in a shirt and jeans, she dragged Bella straight into a bar for drinks.
Only then did she learn that Max was actually Bella's employee.
"Wasn't that shop called something like Weyland?" Alice had deliberately checked several times before. Among the people she knew—friends or demon hunters alike—there was no one named Weyland. The shop itself was full of obvious fakes, so she'd felt safe dating Max. Who could've guessed the owner was actually a friend?
It was absurd.
"It is called Weyland. Listen—here's what happened back then…" Bella briefly explained the origin of the shop's name.
Alice looked dejected. "So that's how it is? You're paying tonight. I'm extremely upset! I'd just 'died,' and that guy immediately went and found another little slut! I treated him really well—I even said I'd help him save money, open a shop, and deal with his black-hearted boss together!"
"Pff!" Bella spat out a mouthful of alcohol.
Exactly how many people had Max told about his 'black-hearted boss'? Was he advertising it everywhere? Was docking one month of pay actually too light a punishment?
Despite her irritation, Bella still hoped Alice would leave Max and Heather alone and stop disturbing their peaceful lives.
Alice raised her glass. "Tonight's drinks are on you."
"Deal!" Bella replied boldly. After all, she'd already docked Max's wages—how could this drinking session possibly cost eight hundred dollars?
Before dawn the next day, Bella saw Alice off. The vampire was heading to Canada to meet her family and didn't plan on returning to the United States anytime soon.
"Oh, right—Emmett Cullen seems to be out and about too," Alice added casually before leaving.
Bella's mind immediately conjured the image of that muscular vampire who claimed that "fencing is less practical than boxing."
What was wrong with the Cullen family? Were they all coming out one by one? She hesitated before asking, "Is Emmett also looking for love?"
She doubted it—but wanted to be sure.
"Of course not! It's a girl he met back in Oregon before we went to Forks—she came looking for him. I'm off! Come visit us in Canada when you have time!" Alice drove away in her Porsche 911, disappearing from San Francisco like a gust of wind.
Returning to the Weyland Magic Item & Special Goods Store, Bella found both Max and Heather waiting.
Their eyes were filled with anticipation.
"It's settled," Bella said with a wave. "Alice has left San Francisco. She won't appear in your life again."
The weight finally lifted from their hearts. While Bella had been drinking with Alice the night before, Max had spent the entire night holding Heather in sheer terror—doing nothing, daring nothing.
Bella reached out and tapped Max, silently conveying: Kid, you owe me a huge favor. Work hard.
The mustached man looked a little despondent. He'd genuinely loved Alice, and hearing that she was now completely gone from his life stirred a trace of sadness.
Ignoring her employee's emotional slump, Bella turned and left—she still had a book to write.
"Bella! Bella! Wait!" Heather called out before she got into the car.
Bella's tone softened noticeably when facing her roommate and cook. "What is it?"
Heather hesitated, clearly unsure how to phrase it.
After a long pause, she said quietly, "Max really likes this shop. If you ever plan to sell it… could you give him priority?"
That's it? Bella had thought it was something serious.
She'd already lost interest in the business here. If someone wanted to buy it, she was more than happy to sell.
Still, she suspected the two of them didn't have much money—and whatever savings they had came from working for her.
The situation felt oddly circular. Using the wages she paid them to buy her shop—was she earning or losing?
"Alright. We're all friends. If you want to take it over, I support it."
Hearing this, Max's resentment toward his "black-hearted boss" eased considerably. They didn't say they'd buy it immediately, and Bella didn't press the issue either.
When you have the money, I'll sell. Until then, everyone carries on as usual.
"I'm heading out. Oh—Heather, I'll be in New York for a few days. Don't forget your key when you head back to the dorm."
Bella waved goodbye and returned to Stanford.
The future Quentin Beck, still an honest man for now, had remained in contact with Bella. His book on the Zodiac Killer had already been published. It lacked literary flair, merely organizing and sequencing the killer's crimes.
The prose was genuinely mediocre—but it had buzz.
And buzz meant money.
After earning a considerable sum, Quentin quit his newspaper job and headed to Hollywood to work as a special-effects artist.