"She's..." Owen said softly, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't look at Isabel, his eyes still wide and frozen as he stared at the woman named Gill as if he were looking directly at a ghost. A heavy, sinking feeling settled deep in Isabel's gut as Owen finished his sentence. "...a friend from my past."
Isabel’s frown deepened, and the anxious feeling in her stomach knotted a little tighter.
"What are you..." Owen’s confusion furrowed his brows, and only then did he seem to notice the man standing almost possessively beside Gill. Or how, even to Isabel, Gill, who was also looking at Owen with a sense of nostalgia and shared history, was positioned beside Baxter in a way that suggested she was seeking his protection. “Why are you here?”
What the heck is going on here?Isabel was confused, and a sudden sense of irritation gripped her.
"Okay, what is going on?" Isabel hissed, startling herself once again with the sharp tone of her voice. "Why do I get the feeling everyone knows something but Owen and me?"
"Because we don't know," Owen stated, finally capturing and composing himself. He instantly moved closer to Isabel, his shoulder brushing hers as if seeking a silent, solid anchor. "What is going on?"
"Why is Baxter the traitor here?" Isabel glared at her brother.
"All will be explained, Isabel," Penny said quietly as she brought out three more steaming mugs from the kitchen. "Shall we get to it?" She pulled a chair up beside Isabel, offering a grounding, supportive look.
"Please, sit," Darius said, standing and indicating for the three newcomers to sit before taking his seat once again.
The three newcomers sat down on the same side of the long dining table as Darius and Linda. Looking at the arrangement, Isabel felt as though she were sitting in an interrogation room, preparing to grill a line of suspects. In a way, they were doing exactly that, she thought, her eyes narrowing as she studied the group across from her.
Her gaze fell on how close Darius sat beside Linda. If she hadn't just witnessed them kissing in the alleyway near the ice cream shop, she would still fully believe they were on the outs because of his lies about his identity. They were executing their cold-shoulder act beautifully for the public, but the physical proximity here spoke volumes.
Then she glanced over at Anna, who had positioned herself between Darius and Baxter. To Baxter's right sat Gill. Isabel's brow furrowed. They were another cozy-looking couple, sittingfar too close together for it to be a simple professional acquaintance. There was a protective, quiet understanding in the way Baxter's shoulder subtly shielded Gill's side.
Isn’t Baxter with Dr. Wineberg?Isabel looked at her cousin in contemplation.
Isabel glanced down her own side of the table. Michael, Maggie, Martin, Penny, herself, and then Owen.
It looked like a classic standoff. But as Isabel swept her eyes over the faces of Michael, Maggie, Martin, and Penny, she saw the silent, guarded truth. They knew a lot more about what was happening on this island than she and Owen did.
"I can't stand this," Isabel said, her patience snapping. "Talk."
Her sharp command left everyone at the table stunned. Normally warm and accommodating, Isabel's tone cracked like a leather whip through the quiet room, causing several people to jolt in their seats.
"We're sorry we kept you and Owen in the dark," Linda started, her voice soft but steady. "But because of..." She paused, glancing at Darius, who offered her a warm, reassuring smile. "Because of Owen's past connection to Dr. Wineberg and..." She shifted her gaze toward Gill. "...well, everything that happened in Charleston, we had to be extremely careful with how we structured our information."
"So..." Isabel felt a hot spurt of anger flare in her chest. "If we hadn't happened to walk past that alleyway a little while ago, we would still be in the dark?"
"You and Owen have just been through so much lately..." Darius started, his tone characteristically protective.
"Whoa," Owen interrupted. He instinctively leaned closer to Isabel, his arm brushing against hers in a silent show of unity that made her heart give a sudden, crazy leap. "Don't hit us with that protective excuse, Darius." His eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with the younger man. "You didn't include us because you decided we were too close to the blast radius. You thought our personal connections would make whatever plan you're running too messy to control."
"Okay," Penny interrupted, raising her hands to de-escalate the tension. "Let's not turn this into a family showdown. We were also trying to limit the overall liability to the plan. The fewer people who knew the exact moving parts, the safer the strategy remained."
"So now we're liabilities?" Isabel asked.
She knew she was being slightly unreasonable, but the presence of this mysterious woman from Owen's past was making her chest tight. More than that, she despised being handled. She had always lived by a strict personal code:Better to look a storm in the eye and take the bruising than to get caught sleeping when the roof caves in.If her life, her home, or the people she cared about were in the path of danger, she wanted the truth—no matter how raw or painful it was.
Darius knew this about her better than anyone, yet he had still chosen to shut her out.
"That was not what I meant," Penny told her, setting her empty tray down and folding her arms.
"Okay," Darius said, raising a hand to cut off the impending argument before it could draft in more heat. "We should nothave excluded you. Things moved fast, and we needed to move with it."
"Then tell us about all this 'movement,'" Owen said. Beneath the wooden table, his hand reached out and clasped Isabel's, giving her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The solid warmth of his palm sent a wave of comfort straight to her chest.
She squeezed back. They were a united front here. Whatever was coming, they were meeting it together.
"Not long after we arrived in Sweet Blossom Bay, and after I'd met Linda," Darius began, leaning his forearms on the table. “I was having doubts about the Hearts Hotel Project.”
