Bella's P.O.V.
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains at my house, casting a peaceful golden hue across the floorboards. But there was nothing peaceful about our mood today. Despite the breakfast hour approaching, our minds weren’t occupied with food. We were focused on the plan. A plan we had discussed until late last night, tweaking every detail, predicting every possible reaction, and anticipating what we hoped would not be failure.
Blake was sitting on the armrest of the couch. Aiden was leaning against the wall with a mug in hand, silent but alert. Rachel and I were huddled around the dining table while Aunt Claire stood by the window, eyes sharp with concentration.
"Alright," Ryan said, through the phone. "So I leave in five, make it look like I’m just swinging by to
