Isla’s POV
I didn’t conclude anything, not yet.
Suspicion was easy. Fear made it tempting. But accusations—especially against someone like Zayne—required proof. I’d learned that the hard way. Jumping to conclusions had a way of detonating everything before the truth even had a chance to surface.
So imagine I end up accusing him and I find out it was Silas all long?
So instead of spiraling, I chose something harder. I chose peace for now.
I stepped into the closet and pulled one of Zayne’s shirts from the drawer he’d pointed out earlier. It smelled like him—clean, faintly spicy, something warmer underneath. I slipped it over my head, the fabric grazing my thighs, grounding me just enough to steady my thoughts.
If my phone was compromised, then someone had been careful. Which meant I
