Previous Chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Isla’s Point of View
I walked Enzo to school holding his hand.
He kissed me at the gates and went inside. Girls and boys in the playground did what girls and boys in every playground do when they see their teacher kissing someone.
They screamed, giggled, teased, and blew kisses.
I watched until the doors closed behind him.
It was my first time in the village for weeks. The last weeks of my pregnancy had been so uncomfortable, I had ventured no further than a stone’s throw from home—the terrace, the bedroom, the bench in the kitchen where Valentina set plates in front of me, and Rosa’s crochet hook clicked its rhythm by the window.