Isabella
The doorbell rang a second time downstairs, sharper now, and more impatient.
William glanced toward the entrance before looking back at me briefly. Whatever irritation had been building between us moments ago was quickly hidden behind that familiar composed expression of his.
“I’ll get it,” he repeated, but I didn’t answer.
I stayed exactly where I was while he walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps fading down the hallway. For a few seconds, all I could hear was the soft music still playing in the background and the faint crackling sound from the stove.
The old me would have walked to the stove to go check it out, but I'd rather it burned. My mind was still crowded when the sound of the front door opening reached my ears.
Lina's voice greeted someone politely, followed
