Both Diego and Isabella turned toward her, their argument coming to an abrupt halt. The maid pushed Esmeralda’s wheelchair into view, and her presence immediately shifted the tension in the hallway.
Diego’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration was still evident. “Esme,” he said, his voice quieter but still strained. “I need to talk to you. I’ve been trying to see you, but she—” He gestured toward Isabella. “—won’t let me.”
Esmeralda’s gaze flicked between the two of them, her brows furrowed. “Diego, you’re yelling in the middle of the hallway. Do you have any idea how stupid you look right now?”
Diego opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say a word, Esmeralda raised a hand to shun him. Her eyes burned with a mix of anger and exhaustion, and her voice was shar
