IMOGEN'S POV
I heard Isaac's car in the driveway before I saw him. The engine cut off with a sharp finality that made my stomach twist. Through the kitchen window, I watched him sit behind the wheel for a long moment, his head tilted back against the headrest. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
Josephine stood beside me, wringing her hands. She'd been pacing the kitchen for the past hour, stopping every few minutes to peer out the window or check her phone. Now she gripped the counter like it might anchor her to something solid.
"He's back," I said softly.
She nodded but didn't move. "I should have stopped him."
"You couldn't have."
"I should have tried harder."
I placed my hand over hers. Her fingers were ice cold. "He needed to know, Josephine. He had every right to confront them."
