Amara’s POV.

The slap was a shock that jolted my entire body. My head whipped to the side, a wave of pain and humiliation washing over me. Isobel’s face was filled with fury and her eyes filled with a cold, murderous rage. Her insults, a stream of venomous words, cut deeper than any blade. She called me a slut, a thief, a pathetic, desperate fool. And her hands were pulling me, dragging me, a limp, defeated doll, through the hallway.

I stumbled, my body a tangled mess of limbs and fabric, ...