ISLA
I woke up to the soft rustling of curtains and the distant hum of a drizzle against the windowpane. My body ached, and my skin felt raw from the cold. As my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I noticed was the absence of Oliver. Relief flooded through me—at least I wouldn’t have to face him right away. But then the memories of last night came rushing back, a storm of humiliation and rage washing over me.
He had left me outside in the rain. He had locked me out, discarded me like I was nothing because of a mistake! My fists clenched under the covers, trembling not from weakness but from anger.
“You’re awake!” a soft voice broke through my seething thoughts.
I turned my head and saw a woman standing by the bedside with a tray of water. She was dressed plainly, her dark hair pulled
