Isla
Sienna’s words hang in the air like a blade still mid-swing. She isn’t even angry in a loud way.
It’s worse. She sounds broken.
My throat tightens until it hurts. “Sienna… I—I didn’t mean for—”
“For it to happen?” She laughs, a sharp, humorless sound that shakes her shoulders. “Isla, you didn’t trip and fall onto my brother.”
Her voice is trembling. She’s trembling. Her hands slide into her hair like she’s holding her skull together.
I stand, reaching for her instinctively. “Let me explain—”
“Don’t touch me.”
Those words hurt. I stop dead.
She looks at me, eyes full of disbelief, betrayal, and something else—fear.
“I trusted you,” she whispers. “I trusted you more than I trust anyone in this house. You promised—you promised—that you wouldn’t go close to him. That we’d stay
