Isabel’s POV
Today makes it five years since the incident took place. Since her death. I can still see her eyes when she looked at me, telling me not to say a word.
She’d accepted she was Isabel when those men heavily loaded with “Arms” came to our house, looking for me. One thing is for sure, they were after me.
But who could it be that sent them to me and wanted to have me killed?
She was tortured, gosh! Memories of that day send a cold spine down my veins.
I could have died. I could have lost my babies.
I touch my cheek, remembering the sharp, jarring slap given to me by those men when I tried stopping them.
If slaps could reset the brain, then that could.
I lost balance, slamming my head against the edge of the cupboard. It was as if the world tilted, and everything blurr
