AT THE SAME TIME
XAVIER'S POINT OF VIEW:
Her father didn’t seem to notice or care. He kept talking, his words like a dull knife, twisting in the air. I could tell that he had chosen words especially made to hurt her. The mention of her mother, the woman who had never shown an ounce of warmth toward me when I visited her with Isabella, was like a trigger. I could see Isabella’s face get paler, her breathing becoming shallow. Her hand, which had been resting on the bed, clenched into a fist.
"She’s been worried about you. She wants to see you. You should go back to her." Her father said.
"Don’t talk about her." Isabella whispered, her voice trembling now.
Her father raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding the effect his words were having on her.
"What’s the matter? You’re not sti
