Chapter Seventeen
Nina’s POV
I heard her laugh before I saw her.
Female. Light. Familiar.
I froze halfway down the stairs, my hand gripping the railing so hard my knuckles went white. My arm was mostly healed now, two weeks since the shooting, but it still ached when I tensed up.
It ached now.
That laugh. I knew that laugh.
I told myself to turn around. Go back to my room. Pretend I hadn’t heard anything. It wasn’t my business who they had in their house. It wasn’t my concern.
Except my feet kept moving down the stairs.
Except my chest felt tight and hot and wrong.
Except I couldn’t stop myself.
The living room came into view. Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, painting everything gold. And there, sitting on the couch like she owned the place, was Isabela.
The woman
