Isabel POV
The note crumpled slightly in my trembling hand, but I refused to let it fall. My eyes burned as I stared at Miguel, the man I'd trusted through chaos and bloodshed, now standing with his back to me, his jaw tight, his silence louder than words.
"You were just going to leave?" I said, my voice sharp and accusing. "No explanation? No goodbye?"
He turned slowly; his face shadowed in the dim light. His eyes, always steady, now flickered with guilt.
"It's not what you think," he began, but I stepped closer, cutting him off.
"Then explain," I snapped, shaking the note. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're running."
Miguel POV
Her words cut deeper than I expected. I hadn't planned to leave like this—not without telling her. But how could I explain the storm raging in my head? The file, the photograph, the possibility that my brother was alive... it consumed me.
