Isabel In Refugee Novels & Stories

In her last email, she provided me with her cell phone number, in case I needed to contact her. Zander: Um, hi Nina, it’s Zander. Nina: Hi, Zander. How are you? Zander: I’m good. I just wanted to check to make sure Isabella is ok. I haven’t heard back from her. Is she safe at home? Nina: Oh, I didn’t tell you? Isabella is in Italy for her last year of schooling. She is staying with her great-great-Aunt. Zander: Italy? No, you didn’t tell me.

The woman swallowed the slump in her throat, feeling the cold air floating between them. “Rachel feels better now although the doctor recommended confining her,” Isabel explained. She was contemplating whether to open up a topic since Minah had been giving her a deadpan expression ever since their eyes met. “Uhm, well I'm Isabel, by the way... Are you from Malibay as well?" “I’m from Dumangas, Iloilo,” she replied, the corner of her lips curling up. Isabel stood antsy, at a loss for words. She gazed directly at her eyes.

Her father pleaded with her once more to go back to London and reject Angelo's proposal. "My mind is already made up dad, so please stop trying to convince me otherwise, you will only be making things more difficult for me," Isabella said sternly to her father. Since they didn't have any where else to go, Isabella and her family made use of the hospital's facilities. She had a few relatives in Panama but they refused to show their faces or lend a helping hand because they were afraid of becoming Angelo's targets.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm asking directly: Do you actually believe Isabella is just a simple maid who happens to have caught your attention? Or do you know she's hiding something and you don't care?" "Everyone is hiding something—" "That's not an answer." I leaned forward. "Leon, I've been investigating her background as you asked. And there are... inconsistencies. Questions that don't have good answers." "Such as?" I pulled out one of my reports. "Isabella claims she came from Evergreen Pack. That she worked in a household there. But when I cross-reference the refugees who arrived with her, none of them remember her specifically. They remember a woman matching her description, but no

Not like she did not trust Eliza, but the man who called her advised her to be smart this time. "Don't bother to drive me home anymore, I need to go somewhere," Isabel said, her voice had taken strength unlike few minutes ago when it was flat and hopeless. Isabel thought that fate had decided to help her in fighting for her dead child, Isabel walked out quickly from Eliza's house and chattered a cab to where she could take a bus to travel to the state that Fia river was. Nathaniel Dave and Felix watched as Isabel walked out of a house and went to take a cab, "Apparently, she slept here overnight, I'll follow her, find out who owns that apartment," he said to Felix.

“Can’t you see the striking resemblance? Nathan really is our grandson.” She bit her lip and looked again at the little boy, who this time had a look of suspicion and defiance that made her gasp: Nathan was a Cáceres. … Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Isabella was frantically waving her hands as she packed a suitcase. The room was small, with austere furniture and windows barely covered by tattered curtains. The sound of running water in the bathroom was a constant reminder that her time was limited. Julián was in the shower, but Isabella knew she couldn’t let her guard down.

May added and everybody began to flip through the pages. On the doctor's report, it was stated that she had been rushed to the hospital because of a complication. She had tried to get an abortion and had gone to a quack hospital which led to complications. Most of the people who were reading it began to have disgusting looks on their faces. The further they read, the more they believed. May and Lily exchanged looks and felt proud of themselves. Outside, they were crying but they both knew what they were doing. "I don't know if any of you remembered but, some years ago, news spread about how Isabella had slept at a hotel at the age of sixteen. It was a very shameful incident and my husband co

She jerked away, rubbing her arm with a scowl. "What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. "One second, you act like I don’t exist, and the next, you’re dragging me around like I’m some prisoner.” I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. "That’s because you are a prisoner, Isabella.” Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t back away. Instead, she lifted her chin defiantly. "I don’t feel like one,” she said, her voice steady. "Your people treat me better than you do.”

Uneasy Refuge Nadia's POV I did not want Isla in my home, ever. Every cell in my body rejected the idea. This woman kidnapped Elena, kept my daughter in a cage for two years of her time. She caused us unspeakable trauma that might never fully heal. This was insane. But Dylan argued with me in low urgent voices while Isla was being treated by our pack doctor in a secured room. "She helped us escape, babe. She gave us information and she is terrified of her mother and that tells us something."

“Nice way to reframe it.” I scrunched up my nose and met his eyes immediately. “Nice way to reframe what?” “Running away, Isabel” “I am not running away.” “From this angle it looks like it. Everything you are is rooted in New York, but you'd rather go to Germany to live vicariously because you can't stand the thought of having whatever image you curated for yourself here to be ruined” I was stunned into silence. For seconds, I just stared at him. “I… I have curated no image of myself here.”