Zoe's POV
The room barely looked like mine anymore.
The neatly made bed I had slept in for months was buried beneath clothes, books, folded sweaters, a half-zipped suitcase, and little pieces of a life I hadn't realized I was building until I started taking it apart.
It was strange how quickly a room could stop feeling like home.
I stood in front of the wardrobe, carefully lifting one of my hoodies from its hanger. The soft gray fabric slipped through my fingers, and a faint smile tugged at my lips despite everything.
I remembered Brandon putting it on me.
He had spent an entire week taking care of me because he couldn't leave me sick. Meanwhile, I had been wearing it every evening ever since because it smelled like his cologne—cedarwood, fresh laundry, and something that simply smelled like... Brandon.
My smile crumbled.
The fabric suddenly became too heavy to hold.
I folded it anyway and laid it carefully into the suitcase.
