Isabella's Lullaby Lyrics Novels & Stories

But sleep did not return easily. Images of Isadora lingered behind her closed eyes. The green light. The guards. The silence. Isabella pressed herself closer to Alessandro, clinging to the warmth of him. Somewhere, far away, her sister was awake too. She was certain of it. And wherever Isadora was, she was fighting. Isabella whispered into the darkness, words meant only for herself—and for the thread that bound them. “Hold on,” she murmured. “I’m coming.” Alessandro’s arm tightened around her once more, as if sealing the promise.

And the last place I wanted Lila was anywhere near Isabella. But I felt Lila’s emotions flicker through the bond. Not rage. Not fear. Just frustration. Lila didn’t know what was happening, yet—but she knew it wasn’t anything good. Isabella dropped into stillness at the center of the circle. She inhaled sharply. And when she spoke again, her voice had changed. It was breathy. Measured. Pitched just slightly too high. “I see him,” she whispered. “Still holding on. Still blind.”

Her heart skipped beats, with a surge of panic. "More baby daddy, mo……re….!! Take it….all….., hit that pus…sy… harder, it's all yours….. Fuc….k…." The implications of those words sent a chill down Isabella's spine. Tears welled up in Isabella's eyes as she clutched her hands together in desperate prayer. Trembling with fear, she pleaded, "Please, Lord, it can't be Caleb. Please, Lord, not Caleb. Caleb is loving and faithful. Please, let this be a misunderstanding."

Ivy navigated the path with a flashlight, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. "Isabella?" she called out, her voice echoing off the damp granite. "I saw you. I know you’re here." A low, melodic humming answered her. It was the same lullaby from the cellar, but out here, stripped of the stone walls, it sounded like the sea itself. Ivy followed the sound to a wide cavern where the tide was beginning to recede. Isabella was sitting on a flat rock, her white nightgown stained with grey silt. She was staring at a pool of water, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand.

But a deeper part—one soaked in grief and stubborn hope—picked it up. “Hello?” My voice was hoarse. There was a pause. Then a voice—a woman’s. Calm. Familiar. Sharp enough to cut through bone. “Isabella, why did you run away from home again? You know you shouldn’t have done that.” I froze. My grip tightened on the phone. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the floor. “I—who is this?” I whispered. But the voice didn’t answer. Instead, it hummed a lullaby. One I couldn’t place. Yet it stirred something deep within me—a sensation like I had heard it before, in another life. A shiver crawled down my spine.

Whether she wants me to call Rosa and ask her to bring her favorite stuffed rabbit from home. Isabella answers in short tired sentences. That is what frightens me most. Isabella is never short. Isabella has never used three words when thirty were available. She talks constantly, enthusiastically, about everything that crosses her mind. She always has. Now she is lying in my lap answering in three words and her eyes keep closing in a way that the doctor told me quietly before we left that I should not let happen. "Stay with me baby." I keep my voice light, keep it easy, keep the terror completely out of it. "Tell me about the game you were playing. Before you fell. What were you playing?"

Isla vanished into the hallway, and a moment later, the bedroom door slammed shut behind her sending echoes round the house. Meanwhile, from her hidden perch, Isabella, who had disappeared only to seek cover to watch the playfully mad couple, was now staring down at the empty room they had just left behind, her face blank at first. Her chest was rising and falling. Her face was a big, red, sweaty snarl. And finally, in a voice soaked with venom, she hissed the words through tight teeth. “This bitch... She thinks she can take everything? Order me around? Kiss him like she owns him?”

LENA The ocean’s lullaby had become the background to every moment on the island. The sound of the waves against the shore slipped through the open windows, softer than a whisper, steadier than my heartbeat. Roman had been right. Here, time slowed. Here, the world couldn’t touch us—at least for a little while. I sat in the nursery, rocking Isabella gently. Her little fists opened and closed, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Every time I looked at her, my chest tightened with a love that was too big, too heavy, too terrifying.

“Isabella—” And then— Darkness.