At last, the front door opened, and Isabella walked in.
"Where have you been, Isabella? You kept me so worried!"
Isabella glanced at her, her expression unreadable.
"I'm fine, bestie. You can see me now, can't you?"
"Fine? You were drunk last night. You told me you were getting information from Lily and then you disappeared. I never saw you again!"
Isabella didn't answer. Instead, she brushed past Becca, heading up the wide staircase to her room.
"How is Mum? Did my dad come here again?"
Becca followed her up, frowning.
"I haven't been to the hospital today, but I believe she's well. And yes, your father stayed there the whole night."
Isabella nodded, as if that was enough. She opened the door to her room and entered, sinking onto the soft sofa. Her sharp eyes turned to Becca.
"Good then. Now tell me, bestie. What days or time does Lily go to her club?"
Becca froze, blinking at her in shock. Suspicion darkened her face.
"Bella… why do you suddenly care about her? Hey, she's mine. Take your filthy eyes off my property!"
Her voice shook with both anger and fear.
Isabella leaned back on the sofa, her lips curling into a half-smile.
"If you weren't my best friend, I would have poisoned you to death." Isabella thought almost loud.
The room went quiet. Becca stared at her, unsure if Bella was joking or deadly serious. The air between them grew thick with tension, because in Bella's eyes, there was something dangerous—something Becca couldn't quite read.
To ease herself, Becca grabbed her phone from the bed and started scrolling.
"Let's see what's going on at the club this week," she mumbled, half to herself, her tone light. Her eyes sparkled as she scrolled, like a child flipping through candy jars. For Becca, the club wasn't just fun—it was escape, excitement, energy. But she hated going alone. The thrill only counted if Bella was beside her.
Isabella leaned against the sofa, eyes drifting lazily toward Becca.
"I wonder if you're the manager of that club," she said flatly. "Why do you know everything that goes on there?"
Becca rolled her eyes dramatically, grinning. "Because unlike you, I enjoy life. Oh—look! She'll be performing tonight. Can you believe it? Doctor by day, musician by night." Becca sighed with admiration. "She's living the life. So… are we going there tonight? Tell me yes, Bella. Please say yes!" She wiggled her eyebrows in excitement, nudging Bella's leg like a child begging for candy.
But Bella didn't answer right away. Her eyes were glued to her own phone instead, screen glowing softly against her face. She wasn't checking the club's page. She wasn't looking at the messages piling in.
She was checking Ava's location. Again. And again. Almost obsessively.
Her chest rose and fell slowly as if every blink of that location dot mattered. Becca didn't notice at first, too busy dreaming of bright lights and loud music. But when she looked up, she caught the sharp focus in Bella's eyes—like she was watching more than just a map.
Becca tilted her head. "Bella… you've been glued to that thing. Who are you stalking?"
Isabella's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't answer, but the silence itself was heavy. Her mind screamed a truth she wasn't ready to let slip.
Ava.
The name pounded in her chest like a warning bell. But Becca didn't need to know that. Not yet.
AT EDEN
The music inside the club pulsed like a living heartbeat, lights flashing across the room in vibrant blues and reds. The crowd buzzed with excitement when the host finally called Ava on stage. Cheers filled the air as she grabbed the mic, her confidence radiating effortlessly.
From the second she started singing, her soulful voice drowned out the noise, captivating everyone. But for Ava, the song wasn't just for the crowd. She felt eyes on her before she even looked—and then, there she was.
Isabella.
Their eyes locked, and a strange current passed between them. Isabella froze, lips parting slightly as if she had forgotten how to breathe. Beside her, Becca clapped wildly, whispering, "She's amazing, isn't she? So cool!" But Isabella barely registered her friend's words. She was fixated, hypnotized by the woman on stage.
And Ava… though she tried to keep her composure, her eyes kept betraying her. Between verses, she stole glances in Isabella's direction. To anyone else, it looked casual. To Isabella, it felt deliberate. But Becca, sitting right beside Isabella, misread everything—she thought Ava was looking at her.
By the time Ava's performance ended, the atmosphere had shifted. She stepped off stage to join her own group at their table, laughter and drinks flowing around her. Yet every few seconds, her gaze wandered across the room again. Isabella noticed. Ava noticed. And Becca noticed too.
"She's been looking at me all night," Becca murmured, her cheeks flushed from alcohol and excitement. "I feel like I should just go and pour my heart out to her."
Isabella turned slowly, eyes narrowing slightly before masking her expression with a smile. "There's a time for everything, buddy," she said calmly, though her chest tightened.
Becca's eyes widened as she caught sight of someone weaving confidently through the crowd. "Hey, look—Luna's coming!"
The name alone sent a jolt through Isabella. Her stomach dropped, pulse quickening. Luna—the one person she had spent six years trying to outrun. Her old roommate from the Catholic school. The one who had looked at her like she was sunlight and never stopped.
And now she was here.
Across the room, Luna's gaze locked on Isabella, and the noise of the party faded away. For a moment, it was like the world tilted, pulling her backward in time.
She still remembered their last week at the Catholic school—the soft hum of the ceiling fan in their dorm, the quiet goodbyes whispered through tears. She had tried so hard to stay strong, but she couldn't hide it anymore. She had told Bella everything, confessed the feelings she had carried for years. Bella had only looked at her with sad eyes and said, "You deserve someone who can love you the way you need."
But Luna hadn't wanted anyone else.
She called her every day after they graduated, hoping she'd answer—until the calls stopped going through. Her messages went unanswered, her letters never returned. Then, the last time she tried, a cold automated voice had told her, "This number is no longer in service."
That was the day she'd found out Bella had moved to the States too. The same week she did. The same country, but still unreachable.
And now, years later, there she was—standing just a few steps away, hair longer, face sharper, but still Bella. Still the girl who had left her heart in pieces.
Luna swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile, her confidence wrapping around her like armor. She wasn't going to break this time.
She crossed the last few steps and, without hesitation, slid her arms around Isabella from behind. "Hey, baby," she said softly, her voice playful but trembling just slightly underneath.
"Have you been avoiding me all these years, Bella?"
The contact made Isabella stiffen instantly. Her breath caught as Luna's perfume wrapped around her like a ghost from the past. She tried to step forward, putting polite distance between them, but it was too late—eyes were already watching.
Across the room, Ava saw everything. Her glass nearly slipped from her fingers, heart sinking as she watched Luna cling to Isabella like she owned her.
And as if that wasn't enough, another sting followed. Dolly—who had been hanging close to Ava all evening—chose that moment to lean in and plant a kiss on her cheek. To others, it looked natural, almost expected. Dolly had always acted like they were a couple. But the truth was different—Ava had never confirmed it, never called Dolly hers. She simply never corrected her, never pushed her away.Dolly moved like someone with unspoken permission.
Ava's chest tightened as her gaze darted back to Isabella.
And Isabella was already moving. Her expression was dark, sharp, her walk purposeful. Ava knew that look, knew the storm about to erupt. Before she could let it happen, she pushed through the crowd and intercepted Isabella halfway, gripping her hand firmly. Without a word, she pulled her out of the club into the cooler night air.