Zella
Dad was on the floor of the gallery, wheezing and clutching his chest. Isaiah must have heard the panic in my voice because he let go of me while I raced over to my father.
I managed to help him up on his feet. “Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? Why were you on the floor?”
He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I'm fine… just thought I saw a rat.”
I frowned, confused. How did falling on the floor, clutching your chest, connect with seeing a rat. Isaiah stood close enough but didn't say a word to my father or even bar an eyelid. It infuriated me. How could he not show concern to his best friend?
“I think you need to rest. Let's get you home,”
“I'm fine, Zella,” Dad insisted, brushing my hands off him.
His phone vibrated on the floor, and I picked it up, and a mes
