Alec steps into Isabelle’s bedroom. “We have a mission.”
“Coming,” she responds and grabs her leather jacket. Pulling it on, she notices Alec staring. “What?” she asks aggressively, zipping up. The jacket fits her black leather pants and laced combat boots perfectly. No more miniskirts or tiny dresses for her!
He raises his hands. “Nothing, nothing, it’s just that…” He chooses his words carefully. “You look… different.”
Checking her reflection in the mirror, Isabelle touches her hair, pulled back severely. “Well, it was time for a change,” she states with almost harsh determination.
Their eyes meet in the mirror and hold for a moment. Then Alec nods slowly. “Alright,” he says softly. “As long as it’s what you want…”
Izzy squares her shoulders. “It is!”
Alec watches her a moment longer, then turns to go, but he stops at the door, one hand on the frame, and without turning back, he whispers so quietly she barely hears him. “But, Izzy… don’t be like me. It’s not worth it. She won’t notice anyway.”
Isabelle’s throat tightens and her eyes burn when she sees her brother’s shoulders hunch, but before she can say anything, Alec leaves.
She looks at herself in the mirror again. This is what she wants. It is. A more mature, sensible Isabelle Lightwood. Someone… worthy.
Then why does she feel like she’s disappearing?