For a long moment, Isabella said nothing.
Her body felt hollow — like everything inside her had been scraped out and replaced with cold air. The Lunareen were still moving quietly through the lagoon, their silvery tails gliding beneath the water, their faint songs echoing like lullabies meant for someone else.
Bubu hovered beside her, its screen flickering weakly in the mist. The system's glow was soft, but the silence between them felt sharp.
Then, finally, Isabella's voice cracked through the quiet, low and trembling.
"You knew."
Bubu didn't move. Its light blinked once. Then, calmly, it said, "Yes. I knew."
Something inside her snapped.
Her breath hitched; her grip on Glimora tightened. "You—knew?" she repeated, louder this time. Her tone rose with disbelief, fury, grief. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"
"It was expected," Bubu replied evenly.
