Isabella’s thumb hovered over her phone screen, the reflection of the dim bedroom lamp flickering across her eyes. 

Leona sat cross-legged on the bed, her small fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her dress as she watched her mother’s expression tighten with thought.

“Who are you calling?” Leona whispered.

Isabella exhaled slowly, then locked eyes with her daughter. “Someone who hates Cassandra as much as I do… maybe even more.”

Leona didn’t understand fully, but the ...