Carson’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as the car sped down the empty road. The night wind tore through the half-open window, stinging his face, but he didn’t care.
His heart pounded against his ribs like a drum, fast and wild. The echo of voices, gasps, and whispers from the ballroom still rang in his ears.
He could still see Bridget’s face—frozen, disbelieving—as he walked away.
He pressed harder on the accelerator. The headlights cut through the darkness like knives. The road stretched endlessly ahead, but he didn’t know where he was going. He only knew he couldn’t stay there, not another second.
His phone buzzed on the seat beside him, lighting up again and again. Victoria. Bridget. Unknown Number. He ignored them all. The thought of hearing his mother’s sharp voice ma
