Zoe's POV
It had been two nights.
Two painfully long nights since Brandon walked out of the house. The day his father came home and he hadn't returned ever since.
Worry had wrapped itself around me like a second skin, refusing to let go.
Sleep had become a stranger to my eyes.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Brandon's face. The hurt in his eyes. The disappointment. The distance between us growing wider with every passing hour.
This time, I wasn't pretending I was fine.
I couldn't.
The first night, I kept telling everyone I didn't care.
"He probably just needs space," I'd said.
"He'll be back."
But sometime between midnight and dawn, that lie had collapsed under the weight of my own fear.
What if he wasn't coming back?
What if he had left because of me?
What if seeing me every day reminded him that his family had fallen apart?
If he didn't want me here...
Why couldn't he just tell me?
Why leave his own home instead?
The questions never stopped.
