Mirabelle's POV:
As we pulled away from the house, the sound of the engine filled the car. Noah’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles turned white.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He had just told me everything that happened with his father a few minutes ago, but he had left out how it all made him feel.
I could feel the anger emanating from him, as he spoke. “He says that I am just like him.” He said. I glanced over at him, trying to read his expression, but his eyes remained fixed on the road. He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head slightly. “He thinks I’m just like him. It’s so infuriating because I’ve spent my whole life trying to be nothing like him.”
Noah has always been expressive, straightforward, and honest. But he was also the best at hiding his emotions
