Sebastian~
I had never felt frustration this deep, this consuming. It gnawed at my patience, coiling like a tight spring in my chest, ready to snap at any moment.
It was nearly 10:00 p.m. The city was quiet, but my mind was anything but. I had spent hours running around with Zane, searching for any trace of Brielle or Griffin. Every lead turned to dust in my hands, every alley we checked, every call we made—nothing.
Now, back at Zane's house again, exhaustion was evident on his face. "I hate this," Zane muttered, voice muffled. "I hate waiting. I hate chasing people. And I really hate being this damn tired."
He lay sprawled on the sofa and closed his eyes but not asleep, one arm draped over his forehead. His suit jacket was long discarded, his black shirt rumpled—a rare sight for the ever-composed Zane.
