Chapter 68 The Death Of Isabela

(POV: Isabela – 'Elena')
Outside, the hum of traffic never quit. A pattern took shape without warning: eyes checking alleys, hands gripping door handles too tight. Every bus station brought stale air, peeling walls, that same sour smell under floorboards. Safety wasn’t something found. It slipped away like smoke each time sleep nearly came. I moved constantly, using Camila’s precious cash sparingly, forcing down tasteless food from gas stations, my sleep filled with jumpy nightmares. Out past the edges of memory, Isabela Montoya had faded - gone quiet, gone missing. Instead, there was only Elena, a shape borrowed from someone else’s life, a word I hadn’t learned how to wear yet. My father’s voice kept echoing, sharp and flat, saying he’d traded me without pause - a truth that settled deep, hard as river rock under skin. Alongside it crawled the ache of knowing Rena turned away, Emilio too, both vanishing when shadows grew long. Everyone had used me. Everyone.
But the cold anger that had formed after hearing Papa’s message remained, a hard core of resolve inside the fear. I wouldn’t just run blindly. I needed to know what was happening back in that world I’d escaped. Knowledge was survival.