Zoe's POV
Casey didn't wait long before slipping back into the seat across from me. She moved as she always did—smooth, deliberate, every step rehearsed as if an audience might appear out of nowhere. When she smiled, it was soft and sympathetic, the kind of smile people trusted too easily. The kind that made my skin crawl.
"So," she said lightly, folding her sunglasses and setting them on the table. "That escalated."
I stared at her for a moment, my jaw tight and my pulse still roaring in my ears from the way Brandon had been pulled away. My chest felt hollow.
"You know you can cut that act now," I said. My voice came out low, controlled, and dangerous. "You don't have to pretend around me."
For a fraction of a second, something flickered across her face. Then she smiled again. But this time, it wasn't the practiced sweetness; it shifted—tilting—into something knowing, a smirk that leaned closer to the truth.
