Chapter 112

ISABELLA

In my dream, I was a little girl again, maybe six years old. Everything was so much bigger, and the world around me seemed warmer, brighter, like it always did in the summertime. I was playing outside, hopping around the garden with my favorite stuffed bunny, pretending we were jumping over invisible puddles. The flowers Mom planted were all in bloom, and the air was full of their sweet smell.

I loved playing out here. It was peaceful, a place where I felt safe.

But then, I heard voices.

They didn’t sound friendly, and I knew immediately something wasn’t right. Mom didn’t sound happy. She never used that tone unless she was upset, the way she got when someone came by that she didn’t want to talk to.

I dropped my bunny and started creeping closer. My heart was racing a little, but I wanted to know who she was talking to. I peeked around the corner and saw her. Mom was talking to a man. He was tall—taller than anyone I knew—and his hair was dark, almost like the night sky. His eyes... they were a strange green, sharp and cold, like he wasn’t happy to be there either.

I couldn’t make out the words at first. They were speaking quietly, like they didn’t want me to hear. Mom stood stiffly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she was trying to protect herself.

“You can’t resist the pull much longer.” The man said, his voice low, almost like he was trying not to sound angry, but I could tell he was.

I felt a little shiver go up my spine. Bella. That’s what Mom always called me. No one else called her that. It was special.

Mom’s voice was tight when she spoke. “I don't want to be a part of it. I don't want this life, Vincent. Leave us alone.”

She said his name like it was something bad, something she didn’t want to say. Vincent. I’d never heard her talk about him before. Who was he?

I inched closer, clutching the side of the house as I watched them. I wanted to go to her, to hold her hand like I always did when she was upset, but something told me to wait. My stomach felt funny, like I wasn’t supposed to be there.

Suddenly, the man—Vincent—turned his head and saw me. His eyes locked onto mine, and I froze. His gaze felt strange, like he could see right through me.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice changing, like he was trying to sound nice, but it didn’t feel nice. “Who’s this?”

Mom turned quickly, her face going pale when she saw me. “Bella, go back inside,” she said, her voice sharp and scared. But I didn’t want to. I took a step closer instead.

Vincent crouched down so he could look at me better. His smile was there, but it wasn’t the warm kind. “What’s your name, little one?”

I frowned a little, looking at Mom for a second before answering. “Isabella.”

“Isabella,” he repeated, and I didn’t like how it sounded. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? I’m your Uncle Vincent. But you can call me Uncle Vinny.”

Uncle? I didn’t have an uncle. Mom had never told me about him. I looked up at her again, confused. Her face was tight, and she looked scared, pulling me closer to her side.

“That’s enough, Vincent,” Mom said, her voice firmer now. She moved to block me from him, putting her body between us. “Leave her alone.”

Vincent didn’t seem to care. He just looked past Mom at me, his smile getting bigger, but it wasn’t friendly. “You can’t keep her from me forever.”

Mom tugged on my arm, pulling me toward the house, away from him. I didn’t understand what was happening, but my stomach felt heavy, and I didn’t want to be there anymore.

As Mom and I walked away, I peeked back at him. He was still standing there, his green eyes following us, his smile never leaving his face.

And deep down, I knew something was very, very wrong.

My head felt heavy, and my heart pounded in my chest.

Who was Uncle Vinny, and why had I never remembered him until now?

When I started to regain consciousness, everything was fuzzy at first. My head felt heavy, and I had a strange buzzing in my ears, like I'd been submerged underwater. I blinked slowly, trying to piece together what had just happened, but my body felt sluggish, not quite ready to move.

That’s when I heard them.

Alex and Spencer were bickering—again.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Spencer snapped, his voice low but sharp with frustration. "She should've eaten something before you both started tearing through those boxes. And you should've called Asher, Knox, and Jax before putting her through that stress."

Alex huffed in response. “Oh, come on, Spencer. I didn’t know she was going to faint! We were just looking through some things. It’s not like we were running a marathon.”

"You don't have to run a marathon to stress her out, genius," Spencer retorted. I could practically feel him pacing nearby, his steps clipped and agitated. "She's pregnant, for God’s sake. She needs rest, and you should've known better. She’s not supposed to be dealing with anything intense right now!"

Alex sighed, sounding more defensive now. “I know, but it wasn’t like I planned for this to happen. We were just trying to find answers. If we waited for the perfect time, we'd never do anything.”

Spencer's voice took on a lower, almost growling tone. “You’re not listening. She’s vulnerable, and you throw her into situations without thinking. What would’ve happened if she’d hurt herself? Or worse, what if something happens to the baby?”

Alex didn't respond right away, and I could feel the tension thickening between them. The air was so tight, it was like I could feel every unspoken word vibrating in the room.

I didn’t want to be a part of this conversation.

Pretending to still be asleep seemed like the best option. Maybe if I stayed really still, they wouldn’t pull me into their argument. I could hear Alex shift uncomfortably beside me, probably thinking through what Spencer had said. His movements were quieter now, less certain.

“I’m sorry,” Alex finally muttered, sounding more genuine. “I didn’t mean for it to get like this.”

There was a long pause, and I imagined Spencer still standing there, arms crossed, staring daggers at him. “Just be more careful next time,” he finally said, his voice softer but still edged with worry. “She’s not alone in this, Alex. None of us are.”

Another long silence. I could feel my heart racing, wondering if they were going to keep arguing or if they'd finally calm down. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up the act.

Eventually, Alex sighed. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

There it was. A tiny victory for Spencer. If I wasn't pretending to be asleep, I might have smirked.

But right now, I was just glad I didn’t have to join in the conversation.

I stayed perfectly still, breathing slowly and evenly, hoping they’d leave me out of it and give me a little more time to process everything.