Chapter Twenty-Six.

“I can explain.”

The sound of the slamming door reverberated in the pits of her stomach, rendering it into a turmoil. Isabella let go of her bags, turning around to make sense of what she’d just seen. And when Joan tossed the phone to the bed, she grappled it in her hands.

“Oh God” Came an exasperated gasp from her lips.

“Oh God, this is bad. This is tell really bad” All she could think of in that moment was Patricia and her hands immediately went through her hair. “Who took the photo, Joan? Who took the photo—“ She was almost raising her voice as she swiped through hundreds of comments that were beneath already.

Some calling her a slut, and others wishing to be her.

A migraine speared through her head as she picked up her phone—it was nothing, it is nothing. And she had to tell Patricia. Joan stood, leaning against the wall as tears welled up into his best friend’s eyes. She realized she could even account for the genuineness. She couldn’t tell if they were even real or not.

“Why did