Chapter Fifteen.

The cold water washed over Isabella’s palms as she rubbed them together. Her bracelets clashed into the edge of the sink and she paused for a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror above her. Her hair was tied in a bun—and she only just realized in that moment that she hated it.

Quite frankly, she hated a lot of things about herself.

Like her knobbly knees and her shot-out elbows. The dark circles carved beneath her eyes and the fact that she couldn’t for once get the perfect haircut—one that boldly said, Isabella Evans.

Her frail hands fell to her stomach, she didn’t like that either for the many years after giving birth to the twins. But it was something she had gotten used to, she thought.

Maybe because she got all the distractions in the world to stop her from over-stressing about her imperfect body. She looked into the mirror, tugging at her skin before her hands brought water to rinse her face and she heaved a deep sigh.

The door opened behind her shortly after and