But Charles simply stared, disbelief etched across his face.
I locked eyes with him for a moment, my fists clenched tight, but the frustration and grief I’d buried deep inside surged to the surface.
Tears flowed down my cheeks in a relentless stream as though the floodgates of my heart had finally given way.
I cried with such intensity, my breath coming in jagged gasps, that I could scarcely find air.
Charles froze for a moment, his face shifting as a flicker of guilt crossed his features.
Tentatively, he reached out, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I’m sorry, Isabella, I..."
But before he could finish, Dorothea suddenly appeared in front of me, throwing herself to the ground. She knelt there, her head bowed and her sobs rising in a frenzied rhythm.
"I’m sorry, Sister Isabella! It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have intruded on your time with my brother!"
"I’m sorry! I swear I won’t show up in front of you again! Please, don’t be angry anymore!"
Charles stood frozen for a moment, his gaze snapping to the bloody scrape on Dorothea’s leg. His face shifted to one of alarm as he quickly pulled her up.
He pointed at the wound, his voice full of fury. "Did you do this?!"