Isla’s POV
“I might be the one who killed him.”
The words Zayne said earlier keep echoing. Like my brain refuses to accept them in real time. For a second, I don’t hear anything else.
Just that sentence, repeating, slower each time.
“I might be the one who killed him.”
My fingers go numb. I don’t realize I’ve taken a step back until my calf hits the edge of the couch. The impact is small, but it grounds me just enough to feel my body again.
My chest tightens, breaths shallow. I stare at him. But for a moment… he doesn’t look like himself. Or maybe I don’t recognize him anymore.
No. That’s not true.
I do recognize him, that’s the problem. Because he looks exactly the same. Same face, same eyes, same man I woke up next to, same man who held me last night. The same man I said I lov
