C26 ISABELLA'S POV

ISABELLA'S POV

"Could you repeat that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I tried to make sense of Mr. Thompson’s words. Surely, I had misheard him. There was no way he just suggested what I thought he did.

Mr. Thompson, standing tall behind his mahogany desk, adjusted his glasses and regarded me with an unwavering expression. "I said," he repeated calmly