Zoe's POV
I didn't remember deciding to run.
One moment I was standing in my room, Brandon's words still ringing in my ears—I've been investigating your family—and the next, my body was already moving, driven by something frantic and instinctive, something that didn't wait for my mind to catch up.
I ran. Bolted.
Down the hallway. I went past the stairs. Away from the sound of my own name being called, or was it my borrowed name?
My lungs tightened almost immediately, like they'd forgotten how to work. I tried to breathe, but the air didn't settle. It didn't help.
My chest constricted painfully, as though an invisible hand had wrapped itself around my heart and was squeezing it.
I couldn't breathe. Nothing felt normal.
The world felt like it was closing in on me, thick and hostile, as if the universe itself had decided I wasn't welcome anymore. Every step felt wrong. Every breath felt stolen.
Breathe, Zoe.
The thought came weakly, desperately in my mind.
Breathe.
