THE CONTRACT (The Chosen Series #2)

STRONGER

Isla sniffles. "Gamma stayed with us as long as she could. But she couldn't hold on."

"What about the others, Siobhan at least. Did none of them help?"

"They didn't know at the beginning. Then after the accident with Ava's parents, Griffin and I kept to ourselves," Isla's response is simple, and my heart cracks even more for her, for them.

Seeing the apparent pity on my face, Isla offers a small smile. "We weren't alone, sister. We had Shay and then Morgan."

"Still, I wish you had had someone to help you with this stuff."

Squeezing my hands, Isla beams at me. "I have you and Ava now."

I squeeze back and give her a genuine smile of my own, "yeah, you do. So, you going to be okay coming to the Manor with me?" I ask, then add, "I could really use my sister being with me." And I meant every word. I need family right now.

Nodding again, I stand, letting go of her hand and watch her frown and look around the room. "What are you thinking?"

Twisting her head, Isla sighs, lifting her backpack. "I don't know what to pack."

I grin, my hands rubbing together like an evil genius, "that, my dear sister, you can leave to me."

*****************************************************

Several hours later, with four suitcases, eight dress bags, and one large cosmetics case packed, we wait in our seats, the dark leather molding to our bodies as Damir loads the remainder of our luggage into the trunk of the car. Isla, dressed in her standard black attire, sits beside me, backpack at her feet, her leg bouncing with nervous energy. I reach out to take her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze to help her calm down.

Damir takes his place in the driver's seat, making eye contact with me before starting the engine. "Are you ready Cкучать Erin, Cкучать Isla? If we go now, we'll miss the afternoon traffic and arrive at the Manor by mid-afternoon."

"All good, Damir," I reply, squeezing Isla's hand again.

"Quiet, aren't you маленькая мышь?" Damir directs his question to Isla, his eyes now on her as he maneuvers the car onto the road.

I smirk and glance towards my sister, who raises her head to meet Damir's gaze through the mirror. "I am not a mouse."

Her response to Damir's teasing causes him to laugh, the sound deep and throaty. "No, maybe not, but you are little and quiet."

Isla shrugs, inserting her earphones and beginning to fiddle with her watch. I observe its unique features for the first time and raise a brow in question, pointing to the dial when Isla looks up at me.

With a forced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, Isla taps her watch once. "I like to build."

*************************************************

The rest of the journey passes relatively peacefully. Isla seems to have retreated into her own world, absorbed in whatever is playing through her earphones. Damir remains quiet and concentrated on driving, clearly mindful of the importance of delivering Alexei's cargo safely. Meanwhile, I've been occupied with my phone for the past hour or so, savoring the last moments of internet access before we enter the dead zone that is the Manor. At least I can still send messages; the thought of being completely cut off from the outside world once we reach the estate is almost unbearable.

As I spot the peak of the old guard tower looming ahead, I adjust my posture, sitting up straighter in my seat and turning my gaze towards Isla. Her unfocused stare gradually sharpens as we crest the rise, and she takes in the imposing sight of the Mikhailov Manor, a grotesque monstrosity against the horizon.