Beneath their carefully crafted facades, Nora and Isa carry wounds they dare not reveal. Nora, a shy and reserved girl, hides the pain of her fractured family and the anger that simmers beneath her calm exterior. Isa, the seemingly untouchable rich...
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The night was always quieter when he was around. As if the shadows themselves held their breath, waiting for him to leave. But Isa never cared for silence. It was the noise inside his head that suffocated him—louder than anything else, drowning out everything he tried to avoid.
He didn't want to be here, not in this small town with its sleepy streets and people who spoke too much but said so little. Ravenwood. It felt like a cage, like the world was shrinking around him, the walls closing in tighter every day. And the worst part? He had no choice but to stay. The consequences of his reckless past had led him here, and now, all he could do was play by their rules, even if it made his skin crawl.
He had hoped, for a moment, that things might change when he arrived, that maybe he'd find something to grab onto, something real. But nothing ever felt real, not anymore. Not since that day when everything shifted, when he'd failed and watched as his father's disappointment turned to rage. Isa had been sent here as punishment—a reminder of everything he had failed to live up to.
His only solace came from the small moments he stole, those fleeting glimpses of something different, something worth feeling. Like when his little sister laughed, her innocent joy a sharp contrast to the anger that hung around their home. Or when his younger brother would sneak into his room at night, searching for comfort in the chaos, needing Isa to be the man his father couldn't be.
But none of it was enough. He was always on the edge of something—an unraveling thread, a sudden slip into the darkness.
Then, she came into his life.
Nora. The girl with eyes that held secrets and a soul that carried scars deeper than his own. She didn't know it yet, but she was about to become the thread he couldn't pull away from, the one thing he would allow himself to feel.
But some things are better left hidden. And love? Love only makes the scars worse.
