Chapter forty-seven

Isabel POV

The air was thick with tension as I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the black box I had just retrieved from my drawer. My hands trembled as I opened the box, revealing its contents: a stack of aged documents, a faded photograph of my mother holding a baby—but not me—and a small, ornate key. My mind raced. If the box held secrets about my family, then the key must open something important. But what?

Before I could go further, my phone buzzed. Jamin's name flashed on the screen. I hesitated before answering.

"Isabel, we need to talk, its important." he said, his voice low and serious.

"Talk about what, Jamin?" I replied, trying to mask the unease in my voice.

"Not over the phone. Meet me at the diner near Greenfield Park in an hour."

"I… I am not your…" He hung up before I could argue.