Isabella's pov

I was setting the table for dinner, carefully placing the plates and cutlery the way Niles had taught me. The house was silent, and for once, I liked it that way. It gave me time to think, or rather, time not to think about everything swirling inside my chest. I had just placed the last fork down when the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor echoed from the hallway.

When I turned, the last person I expected to see was standing in the doorway.

The blonde woman ...