Isla’s POV
When I turned fully, breath trembling to see she was on a call, she ended the call with a swipe of her thumb. Her eyes were already on me—steady, composed, almost too still.
She mouthed slowly, concern flickering through her face:
Are you okay? You look pale…
I plastered the quickest smile I could manage. It felt wrong on my face, stretched thin like it would crack with the slightest pressure. My throat closed the second I looked back at the corridor—empty. Moments ago, they carried him—dragged him, Zayne—bleeding, unconscious, towards the inner corridor.
And now—
Nothing. Silence. A hollow corridor swallowing every echo.
Isabella’s heels clicked closer. “What are you looking at?” she asked, glancing inside the corridor. “Did something happen?”
For a second, guilt stabbe
