The game
Isabella's point of view
The world around me blurred, the edges of my vision tilting as Kyle's words dug into myskull.
"He's been playing you from the start."
The hallway seemed to close in, the dim light casting long, jagged shadows that stretched toward me like grasping hands. My fingers twitched at my sides, my breath shallow. The walls felt too tight, the air too thick.
Kyle didn't move. She stood there, arms crossed, her gaze sharp and knowing, as if she enjoyed watching the pieces of my world splinter.
"Say it," I forced out, my voice raw, cracking under the weight pressing against my chest. "Say what you mean."
Kyle tilted her head, her smirk deepening, but there was something else in her eyes—something cruel, something patient. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, stepping closer. "Did you really think George was your knight in shining armor? That he wanted you for you?"
The words slithered around me, cold and suffocating.
My stomach twisted.
