ZEE.
The drive back to his house was quiet, but his presence filled every inch of the car.
Denver’s hand gripped the wheel like he was holding back something brutal—something I wasn’t supposed to see.
His jaw flexed as we pulled onto our street, headlights slicing through the dark, casting long shadows across the pavement. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, heart thudding from more than just Blake’s confession.
He hadn’t said much since we left the pack. But he didn’t need to.
His silence spoke louder than anything.
When we walked inside, I set my bag down slowly, waiting for him to say something—anything. He locked the door behind us, then leaned against it, watching me like I might disappear if he blinked.
"You’re not going back to school."
I turned. “What?”
His voice w
