ZOE DEAN'S POV
Morning came softly.
For a long moment, I just lay there — half-awake, half-lost — listening to the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint chatter of birds outside the window. The world smelled like coffee and sunlight. Peaceful. Ordinary.
It was the kind of morning that made me want to pretend nothing had changed, that last night hadn't happened. But it had. Every word, every tear, every truth that had broken something open inside me — all of it was real.
I rolled onto my side and stared at my small suitcase in the corner of the room. It was half-open, clothes spilling out like even they didn't want to leave.
Last night, I told Nero I'd go back with him.
Just thinking about it made my stomach twist — not with regret, but with fear. Fear that I was stepping back into a dangerous world. Fear that I might lose myself there. But underneath all that fear was something else… something softer, quieter.
Love.
