"Isabelle," Alec says.
She's not listening, though.
She's tearing her room apart, whispering frantically over and over again: "Where the fuck is it? I couldn't have lost it, no . . . "
"What are you looking for?" Alec asks.
She doesn't answer. Just continues to tear her room apart.
"Isabelle," Alec all but shouts.
When she doesn't answer, he tries again.
"Isabelle!"
He's got to make her hear him.
"Isabelle!"
"I can't find it," she yells, hysteria edging her voice. Then it hits Alec, just what she's looking for.
He remembers where she last left it. He turns, and glances around her room. He sees her dresser; clothes draped all over along with jewelry from Isabelle tearing her room apart. She continues to throw things around, still searching. Alec yanks the top-drawer open, and his hands go to the left of the drawer. There is one place she kept this, and she never moves it unless she wants to look at it, Alec knows. He moves some spare shirts out of the way, carefully, and then sees the toy.
Max's toy soldier. The one that used to belong to Jace.
"Isabelle," Alec says. She doesn't turn.
He takes her wrist in his hand, and as gently as possible, makes her turn around. She turns around; looking confused and frightened, and sees the toy soldier in his hands. Her eyes go wide, and she smiles lightly at it. The corners of his lips begin to curve upward, and he takes her face in his hands carefully.
"Izzy," he says quietly. Her smile fades once she sees how intently he's looking at her. He wants to take her in his arms and tell her everything's all right at the look on her face, she look so distant and . . . confused, and vulnerable. It's the opposite of the Isabelle that always contains a sparkle that shines so brightly it outshines even the sun. It's not his sister, and it scares him. He rubs his thumb across her cheek. "You found it. You haven't lost it. You haven't lost Max."
She nods, slowly but she nods.
And that's all Alec needs, just any sort of notification that she's still listening, that she can still hear him.