Isla’s POV
My heart is beating too fast for a conversation that hasn’t even started yet.
The courtyard air feels cooler than inside the house, carrying the faint scent of lemon trees and wet stone from the morning watering. Gravel crunches softly under my shoes as I follow Isabella down the narrow pathway lined with ivy-covered walls and antique lanterns that look like they belong in a painting rather than real life.
I don’t know what she wants to talk about. And that alone is enough to make my chest feel tight. I just hope it isn’t about Silas.
The thought slips into my mind uninvited, immediately followed by the memory of last night, Zayne’s voice low and steady while confessing truths that cracked open pieces of my reality I didn’t even realize were fragile.
I swallow, pushing the
