ZEE.
The final bell rang, releasing a crowd of students into the hallways. The corridors buzzed with laughter and hurried footsteps. My bag felt unusually heavy as I stepped outside, blinking against the late afternoon sun.
It had been a whirlwind of a day—pretending, lying, playing along with Lawrence’s delusion—and I was relieved it was over.
Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen: Denver.
“Hello?” I said, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Where are you?” His voice was low, familiar.
“Just leaving school.”
“I’m outside. Come to the gate.”
My heart skipped. I looked up, and there it was—the sleek black car idling just beyond the entrance.
“Is that you?” I asked, moving toward it.
“Yeah. Get in.”
His tone was calm but carried an edge that made it impossible to resist.
