Isla
THE NEXT DAY…
I woke up before dawn. My suitcase lay open, the house still half-asleep, quiet walls, soft floorboards, a faint breeze slipping through the hallway windows. Everyone else was probably dead to the world, but my mind hadn’t rested at all. I kept replaying Sienna’s face…the disappointment…the fear. And Zayne’s expression behind her, simmering with something dangerous.
I padded down the stairs, my heart thudding in a slow, guilty rhythm. Sienna’s room was at the far end of the ground floor, the door slightly open, light spilling in a thin line across the hallway carpet. She was awake. Probably hadn’t slept—because of me.
I hesitated. For a moment, I thought about turning around, running back upstairs, burying myself under the covers, pretending none of this was happen
