The house was eerily quiet as Isabella lay in bed, her body still recovering from the wound that had nearly claimed her life. The curtains were drawn, casting long shadows that danced across the room as the sun began its descent. Isabella stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, her mind a chaotic mess of frustration and sadness. She had always been a fighter, someone who took charge, but now, confined to her bed, she felt powerless.
She could hear the faint sounds of life outside her room— footsteps echoing in the halls, distant conversations, and the occasional clatter of dishes. But they all felt miles away, like she was trapped in her own world, isolated from the hustle and bustle of the estate.
Isabella clenched her fists, feeling the anger rise in her chest. She wanted to be out the
