I S A B E L L A
I stare out the window as he gets back into the car and drives us off the bridge and back onto the main road, the world outside feeling eerily quiet after what just happened.
Minutes pass in silence, my hands still clutching the gun as if it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. Angelo’s focus remains on the road, but I can tell he’s deep in thought, his jaw tight and his grip on the wheel firm.
Finally, I find the courage to speak. “Do you… do you think they’ll come back...?”
He glances at me, his expression softening slightly. “Not tonight. But this isn’t over.”
I bite my lip, hating the dread that settles in my chest. “Who were they? Do you know?”
He hesitates, and for a moment, I think he’s not going to answer. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair as
