Isabella’s POV
The next morning, I sat on my bed, the sunlight pouring through the curtains like liquid gold, but it did little to warm the chill in my heart. The message from last night still lingered in my mind, an unanswered question echoing in the silence. Who was trying to warn me, and why now?
As I brushed my fingers across my phone, Alex’s number stared back at me like a lifeline. I hesitated. After his confession, everything between us felt fragile, like walking on glass. But I needed answers—about him, about Monalisa, and even about Ethan.
Taking a deep breath, I dialed his number. The line buzzed once, then twice before his deep, familiar voice answered.
“Isabella.”
“Alex,” I said, trying to steady my voice, “we need to talk. Can you come over?”
There was a pause, followed
