Zoe's POV
Seth handed me the cup of water.
My fingers trembled as they closed around the plastic, the surface cool against my skin. I hated that he noticed. I hated that I couldn't stop it.
"Thank you," I murmured, forcing my lips into something that might pass for a shy smile.
He nodded once, watching me closely as I lifted the cup to my mouth. I could feel his eyes on me—steady, assessing—like he was memorizing my face, or maybe checking for cracks. I sipped carefully, afraid I might spill if I drank too fast.
I studied his expression over the rim of the cup.
It was Calm. Familiar. Exactly the Seth I had always known.
And that was what terrified me.
My mind wouldn't stop racing. The message burned behind my eyes, sharp and insistent, replaying itself over and over.
I know who you really are.
My thoughts crowded in on themselves, loud and relentless.
Was he always this composed? Or was this what good acting looked like up close?
"Do you want anything else?" he asked.
