Zoe's POV
I stared at the mirror again.
For a moment, I couldn't even recognize the girl looking back at me. Her eyes looked swollen, rimmed red from nights she'd pretended she wasn't crying. Her hair, usually full and lively, hung a little flatter. Her shoulders slumped like she was tired of carrying things she didn't have the strength for. I leaned in closer, studying my reflection — the pale face, the trembling lips, the exhaustion clinging to my skin like a second layer.
It had been a week since Brandon and I had our fight.
A full week.
Seven entire days of silence that felt like punishment — the kind that seeped into your bones, not loud or dramatic, just painfully quiet.
We still hadn't talked.
