For a moment, she simply stared at him.
As if she wasn’t sure he was real.
“Ryan?” she whispered.
The pot clattered into the sink.
She covered her mouth, tears instantly filling her eyes.
Ryan walked toward her quickly.
“What are you doing out here?”
Her expression changed instantly.
Fear.
Not relief.
“Ryan… you shouldn’t be here,” she said softly.
“What do you mean?”
She glanced nervously toward the house.
“They don’t like when I leave the kitchen during parties.”
Ryan felt something cold crawl down his spine.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Your mother… and Vanessa.”
Ryan’s hands clenched.
“Why?”
Isabella lowered her eyes.
“They said I should help around the house since I live here for free.”
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