Brandon's POV
The heavy glass door of the café swung shut with a muted thud, cutting off the heat of the afternoon and leaving me stranded in the sudden, echoing quiet of the booth. For a long, motionless moment, I just stared at the empty space across from me—at the half-melted mountain of whipped cream sliding down the inside of her half touched glass.
I sat there, my lungs aching as if I'd just surfaced from deep water. My hands remained flat against the cool wood of the table, trembling slightly.
What did I expect?
The voice in my head was sharp, unforgiving. I tried to tell myself that I had driven out to the Donovan house for Madison. I had clung to that excuse like a shield, hiding behind my sister's sudden return, her confusion, her innocent questions about a girl who no longer existed in our world. But sitting here in the aftermath of Zoe's departure, the lie disintegrated completely.
