ISABELLA
It was the next day when I finally stepped out of my room. My legs felt like they carried the weight of everything I had buried deep in rage, guilt, heartbreak, and confusion.
I hadn't left that room in what felt like years, though it had barely been a day. Just one night of silence, of pacing, of screaming into pillows and staring at the ceiling like it could offer me answers.
I needed to breathe again.
No phone. No clue what the hell I was supposed to do next.
I rubbed my temples as I wandered down the hallway, hoping and praying that someone, anyone, had a damn phone I could use.
I didn't care if it was a burner. I just wanted to know if Camilla was okay. If Lorenzo was still seething. If the world was burning without me in it.
But the second I stepped into the living room, my breath caught.
There Camilla's dad sat, right there. Talking to my father like he hadn't almost torn apart my life in very different, very deliberate ways.
