Zoe's POV
By the time I settled into the passenger seat of Seth's car, my lungs felt like they were finally working again. It was subtle—breath returned to me slowly, cautiously—as if my body had been holding it hostage for far too long. The door shut with a soft thud behind me, sealing me into the quiet hum of leather and faint cologne. Seth hadn't even reached the driver's side yet, but already my neck was craning, my gaze darting through the tinted window, searching.
For him.
I didn't know what I was hoping to see. Brandon turning back. Brandon hesitating. Brandon finally choosing to walk away from the noise, the cameras, the woman clinging to his arm. But the night outside was restless. Bright. Hungry.
Seth rounded the hood and slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door with unnecessary force. He leaned slightly toward the ignition, his head tilted and his jaw tight.
"We'll take the back exit," he muttered. "To avoid the reporters."
