Isabella’s POV
I stared at the painting in front of me. It should’ve made me happy—it was a glimpse of the future I wanted with Asher and our child. But something about it felt… off. The colors were warm, the figures smiling, yet a quiet unease tugged at me.
“Are you okay, Bella?”
Tessa’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at her and forced a small smile.
“I’m fine,” I said, but she narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.
“Are you sure?” she asked again, her tone softer this time.
“Yes, I’m sure. No need to worry about me, sister. I’m always good.”
“Alright then,” she said, though doubt lingered in her expression. She turned her canvas toward me, her eyes lighting up. “What do you think of mine?”
I blinked at it. The proportions were off, the colors clashing in chaotic streaks—but
