/0/78843/coverbig.jpg?v=3af55dd1d103b7e51122dc437d96d511)
The morning light spilled through the cracked blinds, casting stripes of gold and shadow across the cold floor. Isla lay still, eyes tracing the ceiling, the weight of yesterday pressing heavily on her chest.
Her phone buzzed-a message from Dominic.
Meeting at noon. Important.
She typed back, On my way.
⸻
The city outside was beginning to stir
COPYRIGHT(©) 2022