Isla’s POV
The headline found me before breakfast.
I did not go looking for it. It was waiting on the kitchen counter, laid neatly beside Chase’s tablet like a weapon wrapped in paper. The New Cassandra: Soft or Sick? The words were printed in bold, cruel letters, followed by a photograph taken from the charity gala. My face was turned slightly away from the camera, Chase’s hand still hovering protectively near my back. They had zoomed in on my posture. Cropped the image to focus on my stomach. Circled shadows beneath my eyes like evidence.
I felt cold all over.
The article was worse.
They dissected my behavior the way hunters dissect prey. They compared old footage of Cassandra laughing loudly at pack events with newer images of me standing quietly beside Chase. They called the diffe
