Chapter One: Crumbled
"This…can't…be-"
Isabelle Munro was sitting on the worn leather armchair, a blanket was wrapped around her legs.
She was staring at the television in disbelief. Her hands trembled slightly as Isabelle gripped the coffee mug.
"…James Munro, former CEO of Munro Global, was taken into custody earlier this morning. Federal investigators report years of hidden transactions, blackmailing, and bribery tied to high-profile contracts. Sources confirm he could face up to thirty years in prison…"
The anchor's voice faded in and out like a bad signal. Isabelle barely heard it anymore.
Her father was the man who had once built their life from nothing was now reduced to a mugshot and a string of charges that would follow their family name forever.
Munro Global Tech had been more than a company to her…it had been her home…one of power, legacy, control.
Something everyone in their world had wanted to be part of. And Isabelle had been right there beside it.
At only twenty-four, she had already helped push through some of the firm's most successful deals. Her instincts were sharp, her ideas were always fresh, and that's why James admired her so much.
Isabelle had been the future, and now it was all gone…
She brushed a lock of red wavy hair behind her ear and blinked. Her bright blue eyes always felt too honest, reflecting the mess she felt inside.
Freckles dotted her cheeks, still flushed from last night's crying. She hadn't slept, because how could she?
Her father's arrest was already plastered across every screen. It wasn't just a simple scandal. It was humiliation...
"Maybe he really did it," Isabelle whispered to herself. "Maybe he ruined everything."
The thought burnt her like the fire in the sun. She had wanted to believe he was better than that.
The news continued, showing her father in handcuffs…Reporters shouted questions. He didn't answer.
Her mother wasn't shown. Her mother never was…
Isabelle shifted, pulling her knees to her chest. Her apartment felt too quiet without her father's comments.
She hated how small it actually made her feel now.
Isabelle used to dream of having her own place far from the mansion and from the pressure.
Now, she would've given anything to be back in that cold, echoing hallway, with Charlotte laughing down the staircase and her father yelling on a call.
"Charlotte…"
The name hit like a stone in her chest.
She hadn't spoken to her sister in four years. Not since Charlotte had walked out, declaring she wanted nothing more to do with the family, the business, or their lies.
Charlotte had always been different. More fire, more emotion. Less willing to play the game.
They had fought that night. Said awful things. Isabelle still remembered every word.
Isabelle had written Charlotte emails, but never sent them. She thought she'd have time.
The screen suddenly shifted, and a red banner blinked across the bottom. "Breaking News."
Isabelle sat up straight immediately.
"This just in. The body of Charlotte Munro, daughter of disgraced CEO James Munro, was discovered late last night in the Holloway River. Authorities believe it to be an apparent suicide, though the investigation remains open. More details to come."
The words didn't register at first…
"Charlotte…? Dead???"
"No. No, no—" Isabelle stood up, the blanket fell to the floor. "That's wrong. That's not real."
She paced the room, hands started shaking, head was spinning.
Her eyes were focused on the screen, hoping someone would correct it, say it was a mistake.
But it was her sister…Blonde hair in the photo, bright smile. The last image the world would ever see.
Isabelle sank to her knees, pressing her palms to her face.
Grief didn't hit her gently…it roared in.
A flood of everything she hadn't said, everything she should have done.
"I should've called her," Isabelle whispered through clenched teeth. "I should've gone after her."
But then the doorbell rang, forcing her to freeze in place.
Isabelle's heart jumped…
*dun* *dun* *dun*
For a moment, a foolish, clearly desperate thought crossed her mind…she believed it could be Charlotte.
That the news was wrong, that this was her sister coming back.
She ran to the door, breath formed into a ball, not letting her to swallow, hurting her throat.
"It must be you, hiding from the press! It has to be you, Charlotte! It need-" Isabelle's fingers hesitated on the handle.
"Please," she whispered. "Please let it be her."
Isabelle finally opened her door, and saw nothing but two small children on the front step.
A boy and a girl…Maybe two years old?
Both with messy blonde hair, red cheeks, and watery blue eyes that looked like Charlotte's so clearly that it hurt.
They were crying and holding hands.
"Alone…" Isabelle muttered, seeing that no one else was standing behind them.
She blinked, and her mouth opened but no words seemed to come out this time.
The girl sniffled. 'This is… Aunt Belle?'
The voice sounded soft and uncertain at the same time that Isabelle didn't see her mouth moving.
Isabelle nodded slowly. "Yes. I… I am." Her eyebrows arched.
The boy crawled forward, clutching a folded envelope that had her name on it.
Isabelle reached for it with trembling fingers. She didn't open it yet because her eyes were still on them.
The twins looked so small, and so lost at the same time.
She crouched down to their level.
"Where's your mom?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
The girl's lip quivered. 'Mommy didn't say what to tell her….'
"How is this-?" Tears filled Isabelle's eyes. She swallowed hard the ball in her throat and nodded, wiping the water that was blinding her vision.
"You're the reason why she wanted a private life…I can't believe you, Charlotte…"
Isabelle gently took them both into her arms, and then looked back out into the night, hoping…foolishly that Charlotte might appear at the edge of the street, laughing at this like some joke.
But unfortunately, one came…
Only the wind.
"Please, be alive…"