AT THE SAME TIME
ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW:
The air inside the cottage was still thick with tension. The system's announcement had faded, leaving behind nothing but the soft creaking of wood and the low hum of shock that hovered between us like static. I leaned against the wall, my eyes scanning everyone's reactions Vanessa, tense and unreadable, Michael silently processing. Rosalie, with her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white and Lucien… watching her like a memory he'd just lost twice.
The door slammed open with the drama of a stage performance, and every single one of us jumped. In walked a figure with wild shoulder-length auburn curls, goggles pushed back on her head, and a huge grin that looked like it had never known the word "subtle."
"Sorry I'm late!" She called, hands up in a peace sign. "Miss me?"
