Noah

I needed air.

Not the kind that came through cracked windows or the hum of the AC — real air. The kind that cut into your lungs, that reminded you the world existed outside the noise of your phone.

So, I grabbed my keys and slipped out before Mom could ask more questions. The house was too quiet anyway, like even the walls knew something was off.

The morning light was sharp and too bright when I stepped outside. I squinted, walked straight to my truck, and climbed in. For a ...