Chapter 39: Threads Pulled Loose
Isabella's POV
Yvette's room had begun to feel more like a war room. The fortress of pillows behind her back turned her into a queen presiding over council, and she wielded her impatience like a scepter.
Arthur sat at her desk again, pen tapping against his notepad in an endless rhythm that made my nerves itch. Eilidh was draped across the chair beside him like she had no bones in her body, her hair spilling down the side, bare foot swinging lazily. Michael leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone.
And me? I sat on the edge of Yvette's bed, fingers twisted into the blanket, trying not to look like I was waiting for Alexander, anxious about what he will find out and if he was safe.
