Zee.
I sat beside him quietly in the car, fingers tugging at the strap of my bag, teeth digging into my lip until it almost hurt.
I wasn’t angry at him, just lost. Uncertain. Scared.
The kind of fear that doesn’t scream, but settles deep in your chest, waiting, patient—like smoke filling a room until you choke. That was exactly how it felt.
The silence between us wasn’t empty; it pressed down heavy, thick with all the words I hadn’t said since breakfast.
Since he told me he was finally going to let me in on everything.
“You good?” he asked, eyes on the road.
“Yeah. Just… school,” I mumbled.
The lie tasted bitter, souring my tongue.
My voice came out too tight; my shoulders were locked, as if I was bracing for impact. I knew he could read me, he always could, but I still tried to h
