CHAPTER TWELVE
TEMPORARY FREEDOM
ISABELLA
The silence felt different. Not empty. Not heavy. Just… quiet. For the first time since I arrived, the house didn’t feel like it was watching me. No lingering presence. No awareness sitting just beneath my skin. No voice slipping into my thoughts when I least expected it. Just space. Clean. Open. Mine. And God, I needed it more than I realised.
“He’s gone.” Camille said it like an announcement. Like a victory.
We were in the kitchen, sunlight spilling through the wide windows, painting everything gold. She was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee like she hadn’t just casually shifted the entire atmosphere of the house.
“I know,” I said, reaching for a glass.
“Why do you sound relieved.”
“I’m not…”
“You are. But it’s okay. Because I
