Carlos just came back from his mission, a month mission in another country. He came back tired, dirty and injured. He closed the door behind him, putting down his gun, and taking off his bulletproof vest.

“Isabella?”

He called for her with a weak, tired voice. He was exhausted but he needed to see if the only reason to come back home was fine. He furrowed his brows when was greeted by only silence and no response from her.

Confused he went upstairs.

“Isabella?”

He said now more firmly, with a hint of concern in his voice.