After dropping Arielle off, Zeke didn't head home.
He just drove. No plan. No destination. Just him behind the wheel, trying to outrun the mess in his head.
Eventually, he pulled into a quiet park. Killed the engine. Sat there in silence.
"Shit," he muttered, lowering his forehead to the steering wheel, bracing it with both hands. His elbows dug into the leather like he needed something solid to hold on to.
His head was pounding, not just from stress, but from everything that had happened earlier.
Cassidy. That little girl. Xavier.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
The way the kid had hugged Cassidy. The way she smiled up at her, like she was her whole world. Then the way she ran to Xavier like she'd done it a thousand times before.
Zeke let out a rough breath.
There was something about her. Claire. That little girl. Something... familiar.
And then came the thought, the one he didn't want to say out loud.
Fuck.
