Brandon's POV
When I turned, bracing myself for something far worse, I found Brandon standing there.
Not the blue hat. Not a stranger. Not the faceless threat I had been chasing down the corridor like a fool. Just him.
He stood a few feet away, his breath slightly uneven, as if he had hurried to catch up. His eyes searched my face with that same unsettling intensity he always displayed when he was worried but trying not to look controlling.
"Were you looking for someone?" he asked.
His voice wasn't sharp or accusatory; it was careful. But underneath it, I sensed something else—confusion. Maybe even hurt.
The hallway buzzed with students pushing toward the cafeteria and courtyard, trays clinking and laughter bouncing off the walls. The noise felt too loud, too close. I hadn't slowed since I dashed after the man in the blue baseball cap. My lungs still burned faintly. And now Brandon was here.
