MAYA

Silas’s eyes moved back to mine, taking in my empty plate and the distance I’d put between myself and the food. He still didn't acknowledge Isabella, who was practically hanging off him in his own shirt.

Isabella’s bubbly act snapped. Fed up with being ignored, she slammed her hand onto the table and gripped Silas's forearm, forcing him to stop cutting his food.

"Silas, look at me," she demanded, her voice losing its sweetness. "I’m talking to you. Did you even hear what I said about the shirt? You’ve acted like I’m invisible since you got here."

Silas slowly turned his head toward her, breaking his gaze with me....