Isabella’s pov
I lay still, my body stiff with suppressed rage, as their voices filtered through the walls. Every word made my skin crawl, my nails biting into my palms as I clenched my fists tightly. These monsters were plotting the end of my child’s life. My child. My blood boiled, but I kept my breathing steady, pretending to sleep while my mind churned with desperation. I needed to get out of this house—needed to escape before they destroyed me, or worse, my baby.
“I’ll be leaving now,” Maris said, her voice calm but commanding. “You’ll have to keep a closer eye on her. This can’t happen again. You know the last thing we want is to raise suspicions.” Her words were low, calculated, meant for Zachary’s ears alone. But I heard every syllable clearly.
“You don’t have to worry, Mom,” Za
