Chapter 80 – Ghosts of the Past
****Isabelle’s POV****
The first sign that something was wrong came not from what I saw, but from what I felt.
It was late afternoon, the sun dipping behind a bank of clouds that cast long, shifting shadows across the yard. Matteo—no, our Matteo now—was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, completely absorbed in the puzzle I’d gotten him earlier in the week. He had that look on his face, tongue poking slightly from the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration. I loved that look. It was the same look I’d seen on Dante when he was fixing something mechanical or studying blueprints for hours—focused, stubborn, and completely shut out from the noise of the world.
But even as the moment felt domestic and safe, there was something…
