Brandon's POV
The truck's tires crunched over the gravel as I eased into the driveway, the familiar slope of home. My body, heavy with exhaustion, muscles tensed from a long day of extra classes yet beneath it all, a quiet satisfaction lingered. Soundforge had been brutal, and I still had to deal with extra classes afterward, even more so. I was so glad that it was finally done. For a moment, I let myself breathe. The long day, the endless lectures, and the constant stares of my classmates could wait.
It was one of those rare kinds of fulfilment that isn't loud but steady and warm.
I turned my head toward the passenger seat. There it was. Chloe's journal, still carefully wrapped in the nylon casing I had improvised to keep it safe. Neatly folded.
Seeing it there, untouched, still hers in every sense, made the fatigue in my bones feel lighter. The day hadn't been easy—not after Casey's stunt, there was no way it would ever be easy—but I'd endured. I had to.
