Isabella’s POV
The street was quieter than it had any right to be.
Mia and I walked side by side, our footsteps muffled against cracked pavement. It was late, but not so late that the city should have been this still. A faint hum of traffic buzzed in the distance, yet here, in this forgotten corner, silence ruled.
I tightened my grip on the folder clutched under my arm, which had first led us here: Apartment 12-C. A single line was scrawled in the margin of my hospital file, as if someone wanted me to find it or burn in the curiosity it stirred.
The building loomed ahead, half-forgotten, its brickwork blackened in patches by time and smoke. My throat tightened at the sight. Smoke. Fire. My memories tugged in jagged bursts flames licking walls, my own hands reaching for someone I couldn
