The house was dark and still, wrapped in the kind of quiet that only settled when the world was fast asleep. The soft click of Isabelle’s heels against the marble floor echoed faintly as she moved through the entryway, the sound too sharp, too loud in the silence. She winced, glancing toward the hallway where the twins’ rooms lay — but the house remained still, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
She should have felt relieved.
Dinner had been… fine. Marcus had been kind and charming, his conversation easy, his attention steady. The restaurant had been beautiful, the candlelight warm and inviting. Everything had been perfect.
So why did it feel so wrong?
The ache in her chest hadn’t eased when she walked through the door. And it had only grown when she saw Seba
