Morning sun streamed through Isabella's bedroom window, the light warm and golden like honey. But Isabella had not slept—not even for a minute, her mind too full of questions to find peace.
She sat on the edge of her bed, the mysterious note lying on her nightstand like an accusation. She picked it up again and read the words that had haunted her through the sleepless hours.
"You look just like your mother. You shouldn't be here."
Her hands shook. Who had written this? How did they get into her room? And why did they know about her mother when she barely remembered the woman herself?
Isabella stood up and walked to her closet, needing movement to quiet the chaos in her mind. She needed to get out of this room, away from the note, away from the questions that had no answers but demanded her attention anyway.
