CAMILLA
My heels clicked against the tiled floor of the hallway, but the rhythm was off—too fast, too sharp.
My body moved, but my mind lagged like it was wading through thick fog. I couldn't focus. The air in my apartment felt too still like it was waiting to witness something terrible.
I paced, fingers tangled in my hair, breaths shallow. My phone trembled in my grip as I hit Isabella's contact again and again, but it didn't even ring. Just that damned silence. That dead silence that curled in my stomach like a serpent.
She always answered me. Always.
"Come on, Isa," I whispered to the screen like pleading could bring her back. "Just—just let me know you're okay…"
Nothing.
