No answer.

Isaac stopped trying to call. He changed into a set of casual black clothes and left.

He drove to the Lynette Mansion, only to find Brittany's room dark.

After some thought, he dialed Brittany's number again.

This time, someone picked up: "Caspian."

With a tone full of irony.

Isaac leaned back into the leather seat, his voice lazy: "I'm downstairs, come out."

"I'm not at the Lynette family."

Brittany snorted softly.

"Then where are you?"

"Derek's in Craneville. I'm at the Bishop family," Brittany answered truthfully. "I have a question for you."

Isaac, with one hand on the steering wheel, turned the car around, heading straight for the Bishop family. "Shoot."

"Was your car accident because of me?"

"I heard it was pretty bad. Were

slammed on

forward, screeching to

breeze whipping through the gap, snapping him back to reality. "The accident's in the past. I'm

sound of the brakes, felt a pang of guilt:

It was her fault.

suffered so much, and she had completely forgotten

it weren't for her newfound feelings for

protect you for life. It's

for me. I'll be there

feeling unstable, leaned against the headboard, tears rimming her eyes. Both

later, the sound

you want to come down, or should

"I'll come down."

into her slippers, and

the Lynette Mansion, but it still spoke of a family on the rise, with its villa built in a showy manner. Brittany pushed open the

before Isaac could react, she dove into

instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, closing

upset about the

his shirt, her eyes reddening: "Take off your clothes

Isaac froze: "Now?"

in the car, didn't

his chest: "I just

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