Chapter 4

Cassian picked up the certificate, still wearing the impatient expression he used whenever Isla made a claim he intended to dismiss.

Then he saw the seal.

His thumb stopped against the edge of the paper, and he brought it closer.

"Logan Vale?"

Melinda leaned over his shoulder before giving a sharp laugh.

"Oh, Isla. If you wanted us to believe you, you should have chosen someone less ridiculous."

"It's registered," Isla said. "You're welcome to check."

Cassian turned the document over, and she held out her hand before he could fold it.

"Careful. That's mine."

He looked up at her, his hesitation hardening into annoyance.

"You were planning to marry Coel yesterday, and now you expect me to believe you've married Logan Vale?"

"Yes."

A floorboard creaked overhead.

"Who married Logan Vale?"

Hilda came down the stairs in slippers, her hair loose around her shoulders. She took one look at Isla, then reached for the certificate.

Isla retrieved it first.

"Apparently, your sister has developed an imagination," Melinda said.

Hilda's smile faltered as she caught sight of the names. Then she laughed.

"Does Coel know you're doing this? He's going to find it hilarious."

"Tell him, then."

That seemed to take some of the enjoyment out of it.

Isla slipped the certificate into her bag.

"I came for my documents and my mother's things. Once I have them, I'm leaving."

"You haven't answered my questions," Cassian said.

"I answered the important one. I'm not going anywhere with Alpha Reid."

His gaze flicked toward Melinda.

Isla noticed, but she was too tired to stand there waiting for another excuse.

"Unless you really need a doctor, I'll be upstairs."

She walked past them before anyone could stop her.

Her room looked exactly as she had left it, down to the cardigan hanging from the back of the chair.

Nobody had come looking for her yesterday.

Isla took her identity documents from the drawer, checked that her training certificates were still inside the folder, and tucked them into her bag. Her work laptop was old and slow, but it was hers, so she packed that too.

The jewelry box was behind a stack of winter clothes.

She sat on the bed to open it, running a finger over the small gold pendant inside. Her mother had worn it every day, even when she was too ill to get dressed.

Isla fastened it around her neck and put the box in her bag.

Voices carried up from downstairs.

"...can't simply let her walk out," Melinda was saying.

Isla stopped fastening the zip.

Cassian answered too quietly for her to hear, but she recognized the tone. He used it when discussing money he didn't want to spend.

She took out her phone and opened the conversation with Logan's assistant.

I'm still at my father's house. Please don't leave without seeing me in person.

The reply arrived before she reached the stairs.

Understood, Mrs. Vale. We're on our way.

She read the name once more before putting the phone in her coat pocket.

Downstairs, Cassian had abandoned the blanket. He stood between her and the front door while Melinda waited beside him.

"Put the bag down," he said. "We're not finished."

"I am."

"Reid is expecting you tonight."

Isla glanced toward the door, measuring the space beside her father.

"Have you already taken his money?"

"Lower your voice."

"Have you?"

Melinda stepped forward.

"Your father made arrangements for your future. You could at least show some gratitude."

Isla looked at Cassian.

"You took it."

His mouth tightened.

"And I won't be humiliated because you've decided to be difficult."

For a moment, all she could hear was the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"Then give it back."

"Don't be childish," Melinda said. "After what happened with Coel, you're fortunate Reid is still interested."

"You mean willing to pay."

The slap caught Isla across the mouth.

She stumbled against the console table, knocking a bowl of keys onto its side. Pain spread through her cheek, followed by the metallic taste of blood.

"That is enough," Melinda snapped.

Isla waited for the ringing in her ear to ease, then straightened the bag on her shoulder.

She had nothing left to say to either of them.

Cassian caught her elbow when she tried to pass.

"You're not leaving until we settle this."

She pulled free.

"Don't touch me."

He raised his voice.

"Get in here."

One of the household guards appeared from the corridor, followed by another. Isla recognized both; they had watched Hilda come and go for years without once asking where she was headed.

Now they looked to her father for instructions.

"Take her bag and keep her here."

Isla stepped back before the first man reached her.

"I'm married to Alpha Vale. Think carefully before you put your hands on me."

The guard hesitated.

"She's lying," Melinda said quickly. "She's been behaving like this since the rejection."

Cassian pointed toward the back of the house.

"Do as you're told."

When the guard caught Isla's arm, she turned into his grip and shoved him against the console. The bowl fell, scattering keys across the floor, but the second man was already blocking the door.

Serena surged beneath her skin.

Isla started to push back, then felt the sharp pull beneath her ribs. Yesterday's rejection had left her aching, and the first guard had recovered quickly enough to seize her wrist.

She could hurt him. She wasn't sure she could get past both.

"My phone," she said as he reached into her coat.

He handed it to Cassian.

Her father took the bag next, its weight shifting as the jewelry box knocked against her laptop.

"Leave that here."

"My mother's things are in there."

"We'll discuss them when you've calmed down."

He set the bag beside his chair as though the matter were settled.

The guards steered her toward the kitchen, and Isla stopped resisting when she saw which door Melinda was opening.

"No," she said.

Melinda glanced back.

"Then you should have listened."

The pantry smelled of damp wood and cleaning soap.

Isla caught herself against a shelf when they pushed her inside, saving her knees from the tiled floor. The door shut before she could turn, and the lock clicked into place.

For a moment, she stood perfectly still.

Then she checked the door.

There was no handle on this side. There hadn't been one when she was ten, either.

She tested the hinges and looked up at the narrow window, painted shut high above the shelves. Nothing had changed except the contents of the room.

Melinda had replaced the sacks of flour with folded tablecloths.

Isla lowered herself onto an overturned crate and examined her wrist. It was swelling, but she could move her fingers.

She unwound the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around the joint, keeping the pressure even.

Outside, someone laughed.

She fixed her attention on the knot until she could breathe without feeling sick.

They had her phone, her documents, and her mother's box.

But someone knew she was here.

Isla rested her uninjured hand over her stomach, careful not to press.

She had promised to think about keeping this baby. Then she had married its father, and now she was locked in the room where she used to count the hours until someone remembered to feed her.

At least this time, she hadn't come without telling anyone.

The doorbell rang.

Isla stood so quickly that the crate scraped beneath her.

Footsteps crossed the hall, followed by Melinda's bright, welcoming voice.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to collect Mrs. Vale."