Chapter 69

Isabella

I had imagined coming home a thousand times, but always with some small variation. Sometimes Leo would run out with messy hair and bare feet, dragging some half-broken toy behind him. Sometimes Papa would stand in the doorway with a tired smile and arms just wide enough to make me feel five years old again.

And other times, I’d just walk in and pretend nothing ever changed, but I somehow had refused imagining this. This out-of-place feeling. This desire to turn back, to run, to go back to Alessandro and just stay in that cell-like palace. I had no idea why, but I just didn’t want to be here. It didn’t feel anything like home.

The car pulled up to the edge of the walkway, the brakes letting out a soft sigh as the engine went still. I sat there for a moment, my hand resting lightly on the door handle, heart unsteady in my chest, watching the house from behind the window. The glass reflected my face back at me, paler than I remembered. I felt like a st