Isabelle’s POV

The scent of fresh roses reached me before I even opened the door.

I didn’t need to check the peephole. Only one person rang my doorbell three times in a row and brought a bouquet like she was visiting an old aunt instead of her younger sister.

I pulled the door open.

There she was. Amara. She had said she would be coming over and I was so overjoyed that I couldn’t wait for her to come over.

Wearing her signature oversized sunglasses, a sky-blue jumpsuit with her wild ...