The dancer, mid-step, faltered. Her confidence shattered like glass against stone. She barely caught herself from stumbling and turned away so fast, it was obvious she felt the danger.
She didn't come near again.
Instead, she moved to the opposite end of the floor, pretending she never even looked their way.
None of the others noticed the silent warning that had just passed.
Leonardo glanced sideways, watching Isabella fidget with the hem of her skirt, her big brown eyes still unfocused after the earlier moment. She hadn't said a word since the dancer left.
He leaned slightly toward her and asked, voice calm but quiet beneath the music,
"Want to go home?"
But Isabella blinked, tilting her head. "Huh?"
She hadn't heard him.
Of course she didn't. The music was too loud, and honestly—if anyone ever whispered, Isabella usually missed it the first time. She'd always suspected she had a slight hearing issue. Soft voices just didn't reach her well.
Leonardo sighed softly.
