In the Hollow of Her Heart

till, as if time

aze drift across the marble floors and the once-grand chandelier that now hung dull and

epped

lusive-faded memories, perhaps. Isabella's heels echoed sharply against the marble, each step punctu

d. A private welcome. That was her sister's

loud in the hush. She hadn't come seeking warmth. She was here for answer

oached-measure

draped in sleek black silk, her e

a thin smile. "Co

between them, we

er, as if assessing for

have

le

ding her deeper into the house. "You'll

thoug

take it fo

ldn't

nap. Even their footsteps down the hallway seemed to d

oves and patterns like pages of an old story. Echoes of childhood laughter and

t home. No

had begun-and where someth