Chloe's Point of View
The car ride home was silent, yet tension clung to Jonathan and me like a dark cloud ready to pop at any moment. I could sense the depth of anger, a mix of frustration and something more that I couldn't quite put my finger on at that point in time. Spelled out toward me, Victor, or this situation itself, it chocked.
We pulled up to the house. Jonathan got out of the car stiffly. I walked into the house, my mind in a haze with thoughts dancing in every direction. As we stepped inside the sweeping foyer, Jonathan turned to me.
Take a shower. "I'll see you in my room." His voice was stern, but his tone was dead.
I nodded wordlessly, far too exhausted to speak out. I wanted to gather my thoughts and make sense of what just happened between Victor and Isabella.
