ISAAC'S POV
I straightened my tie, mentally cursing myself for even being here. As I opened the car door for my mother, I couldn't help but voice my misgivings. "I don't think I should be at this party."
My mother chuckled, linking her arm with mine. "But your father invited us. It's only polite that we honor the invitation."
With a resigned sigh, I followed her into the hall. Immediately, the chatter and music seemed to grind to a halt and all eyes fixed on us. I leaned in and whispered to my mother, "People clearly don't want us here."
She patted my shoulder reassuringly. "I want to be here. Clarke invited me." Scanning the room, she pointed. "And there's your father, with Imogen."
My stomach twisted as I saw them, my father's smile widening as he approached us. Despite his warm embrace, I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his gait - a telltale sign that all was not well.
