"Did I not command you to leave?" Olivia's voice tore through the silence, a jagged blade of a scream.
"Get the hell out of here! You know what, I actually thank God every day for this darkness, if only because it spares me the sight of your wretched face."
Isabella did not flinch. She moved toward her with a cold, rhythmic grace, stopping just inches from the woman who sat staring defiantly into the void. Isabella traced the hollows of Olivia's face with her eyes—eyes that searched for a flicker of the woman she once knew.
For a fleeting second, her arms trembled, aching to pull Olivia into an embrace, but the invisible wall between them was too high. She drew back, her posture turning to stone.
"Fine," Isabella said, her voice a low, steady anchor against Olivia's storm. "I will go. But only after you hear what I have to say. After that, you may curse my name until your lungs fail—but for now, I beg of you, listen."
