CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A DAY WITH ISABELLA
CHRISTINE' S POV
THIS WASN'T HOW I HAD PICTURED MY EVENING GOING. It was late, my office had mostly emptied, I had at least four or five hours of work ahead of me, and my stomach was rumbling so loudly that I suspected it was about to start eating itself.
“So hungry,” I said under my breath, realizing how screwed I really was.
One, because the last thing I ate was a sandwich that clearly turned out to be a big mistake as much as it had seemed the most sensible idea. Two, I didn’t have any snacks at hand and no change for the vending machine downstairs. And three, the PowerPoint slide on my laptop screen was still blinking at me, half-empty.
My hands fell on my keyboard, hesitating over the keys for a full minute. A text pinged from my phone, draw
