Brandon's POV
The early morning sun flooded my room in gold.
Not the gentle kind. The kind that felt
deliberate, almost cruel, like it had something to prove. I groaned and rolled onto my side, dragging the pillow over my head as if that might block out the world—and my thoughts with it.
Sleep had barely brushed against me, a fleeting whisper that left my mind restless. It churned tirelessly, sifting through possibilities like a relentless machine caught in a perpetual cycle, refusing to power down. Patterns danced in my thoughts—fractures, fragments, and small details that once seemed inconsequential now clawed their way to the forefront of my mind.
Garrett calling her Zoe.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my jaw until I felt the tension radiate through my skull.
No.
A groan escaped my lips, heavy with bewilderment.
It made no sense.
