Brandon's POV
The quiet late-afternoon sun hung low over the balcony of my new apartment, painting the slate-gray rooflines of the city in deep hues of amber and violet. From four stories up, the faint hum of traffic down on the avenue sounded like a steady, distant tide—a rhythmic background noise that was entirely different from the heavy, suffocating silence that used to settle over the halls of the Ross mansion back in Lakeside.
I leaned my forearms against the cool iron railing, taking a slow, deep breath of the crisp autumn air. The breeze carried the crisp scent of falling leaves and damp pavement, sharp and invigorating against my skin.
A month had passed since I unpacked the last box in this small brick apartment just twenty minutes off the Bellamy campus. A month of early morning lectures, late-night study sessions, and the unfamiliar, liberating feeling of stepping into a life that was entirely my own.
