Isla’s POV
I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, my knees pulled to my chest, tears streaming down my face. The room was dark, but the memories of Oliver’s rage and Ethan’s bloodied body illuminated my mind like lightning in a storm. I couldn’t stop seeing Ethan lying there on the ground, bruised and battered, his blood pooling on the cold pavement.
Oliver hadn’t come back to the room after dragging me here. The silence in the house was deafening, but his absence didn’t comfort me. It only made me feel more alone, trapped in this suffocating marriage that was slowly breaking me apart.
The hours dragged on. I didn’t sleep—I couldn’t. My eyes were swollen from crying, my throat raw from the screams I had buried deep inside me. The clock on the bedside table ticked toward midnight, and a
