Next morning…
Isabella slowly blinked open her eyes, her vision a bit blurry from the brightness seeping through the curtains. A dull, familiar ache pulsed in her shoulder. She wasn't surprised—pain had always been part of her waking routine for as long as she could remember. But this one felt different. Deeper. Sharper.
She turned her face slightly and frowned. The ceiling was unfamiliar.
Then it all came back at once.
The auction… the car… the gunshot… Leo's cold words… and—
The sniper.
Her heart skipped, and she quickly tried to sit up but winced as her arm throbbed sharply. She looked down and finally noticed the soft fabric covering her. She was wearing loose, oversized clothes definitely not hers. The sleeves nearly swallowed her hands.
Her lips trembled slightly. Someone must've changed her clothes. She didn't remember anything after falling… was she unconscious the whole time?
