Whispers followed Isabella wherever she walked through the Lin estate.
Not loud enough to confront. Not bold enough to name. But always there—soft, buzzing, irritating like static in the air.
"She's too quiet."
"Doesn't even call them Mom or Dad."
"She doesn't act like someone who's been found… more like someone who's been watching."
Isabella heard them all.
She simply didn't care.
After her visit to the Blackwood estate and the private lunch with her biological family, she had decided to stay behind for a few more days to "adjust" as her parents called it.
It was less of an adjustment and more of an extended observation.
The Lin family, despite their wealth and perfection in the public eye, were broken in the quiet. Clarissa's eyes carried years of guilt. Edward, pride tempered by regret. The brothers were divided between curiosity and protectiveness.
Only Felix remained genuine, untouched by the politics of legacy. He texted her memes and called her "sis" like he'd known her all his life. She didn't admit it aloud, but she liked that.
Now, in the grand indoor library where marble pillars rose into a domed ceiling, Isabella stood facing a tall shelf while balancing three thick medical journals in one arm.
"Still studying?" a familiar voice asked behind her.
Victor.
She didn't turn. "I don't stop just because I moved houses."
He stepped closer, watching her with interest. "You know, most people would take time off after acing national exams and getting into the country's top medical institute."
She placed the journals down gently on a nearby table. "I'm not most people."
"No," he said, his voice low, "you're not."
She turned now, her expression calm but curious. "Why are you here again? Another visit to the family?"
"I came to see you."
Isabella arched an eyebrow.
Victor slipped his hands into the pockets of his blazer, eyes locked on hers. "You intrigue me, Isabella Lin. You're a mystery I didn't ask for, but now I want every piece."
"Don't romanticize me. I'm not a puzzle. I'm a wall."
He smiled faintly. "And I don't mind bleeding to climb it."
Her breath caught for just a second, and she hated that it did.
Before she could reply, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, scanned the message, and turned sharply.
Victor noticed her subtle change.
"What is it?"
"Your grandfather," she said simply, sliding her phone into her pocket. "His condition has shifted."
He straightened. "Is he—?"
"He'll be fine. But he needs a readjusted nutrient intake and immune modulator. The current dosage is causing unnecessary strain on his heart."
Victor's eyes searched hers. "And you knew that… just from a text?"
"I've seen his file. Your doctors are good, but they don't think outside the box." She walked past him, brushing his shoulder with her arm. "I do."
He turned as she left, calling after her. "You keep showing up when I least expect it, you know."
She paused briefly at the door.
"I've always been here," she said quietly. "You just didn't see me."
Then she disappeared down the hall.
And Victor stood there, heart racing, mind spinning—not just from what she said, but from what it meant.
She wasn't a girl.
She was a storm cloaked in silence.
And he was already standing in the eye of it.