Zoe's POV
I had just come from the garage.
The air outside was thick with heat — heavy and sticky—but my thoughts were louder.
Brandon hadn't said what he was going to tell me before leaving earlier, and when I stepped into the sitting room, I half expected to see him there — waiting, smiling that lazy smile that always disarmed me.
Instead, it was Margaret I saw.
She was sitting alone, the television on mute, eyes fixed on the blank screen as if trying to watch her own thoughts. Her face looked pale, drawn even, like she hadn't slept.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Ross," I greeted hesitantly.
She looked up, managing a faint smile. "Oh… Chloe. Afternoon, dear."
Something about her tone made my chest tighten. It was too soft. Too far away. Brandon was supposed to be with her, wasn't he? She had asked for him urgently earlier — I feared something might be wrong.
I cleared my throat. "Um… have you… Seen Brandon?"
