Brandon's POV
I could sense it before she even spoke. The tremor in her hands, the slight quiver of her lips, the way she avoided making eye contact with me—something significant was about to happen, and I felt a sinking sensation in my chest that told me it wasn't good.
Her hand shook as she reached for her bag, gripping the strap as if it were the only thing keeping her together. A part of me ached. How could one secret tear someone apart like this? My gut tightened. I wanted to prevent whatever it was from hurting her. If only I could make her feel safe enough to share, maybe then she could find some freedom.
But just as she was about to speak, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it out of habit. "One moment," I said, holding it up. The screen read: "Brandon, where are you? Get back here NOW. – Mum."
