Darien whirls to the side, nearly losing grip of the unconscious girl as a familiar figure steps out from behind one of the garden walls. The tension steals the air from his lungs.
It's his sister, Isolde.
Of all the people he could have run into, she's… not the worst. She's cold, reserved, and with a soft voice that sounds like Billie Eilish's singing voice, Isolde rarely speaks to anyone. And she doesn't gossip… which is a relief. His youngest sister, however, is the opposite of Isolde.
Still, her eyes widen slightly, brows knitting in disbelief as she takes in the blood on Heidi's clothes, the bruises, and Darien's hysterical expression.
"I… didn't expect to see you," he says awkwardly, adjusting his hold on the girl. "What are you doing home? Skipping school?"
Isolde, dressed in a long black cardigan over a satin slip dress, tilts her head. "I had a headache," she murmurs. "Migraine. And you're… carrying a girl. A bleeding and unconscious one."
