Noah POV

My room smells like nothing. Hotel rooms always smell like nothing—aggressively neutral, stripped of anything that would allow them to be mistaken for a place a person actually lives—and I throw my bag onto the bed and start packing with the focused violence of someone who needs his hands occupied or he is going to put them through the wall.

Finn is at the edge of his restraint.

‘Tear it down,’ he says, with the low intensity of something that has been held ...