ISABELLA
The storm had turned the world into a blur of darkness and water.
Rain slammed against the windshield as our convoy tore down the narrow road, wipers struggling to keep up. The sky was a solid sheet of black, no stars, no moon, just the relentless downpour and the low rumble of thunder rolling across the horizon.
I pressed my palm against the cold window, staring out into the night. Every tree, every shadow, every bend in the road felt like it was closing in on me. My chest tightened with each passing second. Adrian was out there somewhere. And I didn’t know if he was alive.
When the cars finally screeched to a stop, the headlights cut through the rain and revealed the broken bridge. My breath caught.
The railing was gone — ripped away, jagged metal twisted outward like the
