<b>The storm had settled into an uneasy stillness, leaving the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something unspoken—something tense. Jericho, Phoebe, Iris, and Sean made their way toward his car, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the wet pavement. It wasn’t really his car; it was his father’s, gifted to him on his sixteenth birthday. A sleek, black machine that exuded power and elegance, the kind of car that commanded attention without trying.</b>


    <b>Sean suddenly stopped, forcing the others to halt with him. His hesitation alone was enough to set Jericho on edge.</b>


    <b>“We need to tell you something,” Sean said, running a hand through his hair. “Iris and Phoebe didn’t want to bring it up because they didn’t want you to freak out, but—” he exhaled sharply, glancing toward Phoebe, who looked away. “We checked Irene’s location on Phoebe’s phone. She’s in the forest.”</b>


    <b>Silence.</b>


    <b>Jericho stood frozen, his pulse hammering in his ears. The forest. Why the hell would she go back there? After everything?</b>


    <b>A slow, burning frustration coiled in his chest, mixing with something deeper—something almost possessive. What was she thinking? Did she even realize what could happen?</b>


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    <b>He pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to keep his emotions from slipping through the cracks. Keep it together.</b>


    <b>“Okay,” he finally said, voice tight. “Let’s just get in the car.” He turned on his heel, making a beeline for the driver’s side, his grip on the keys tightening. He wasn’t going to let them see how much this was getting to him. He wasn’t going to let them see how his worry felt like a noose tightening around his throat.</b>


    <b>“Hey, how about I drive?” Iris’s voice was gentle but firm.</b>


    <b>Jericho stopped, slowly turning to face her. She met his gaze with quiet understanding, her expression calm in a way that only made his irritation spike.</b>


    <b>“Look, you’re dealing with a lot right now,” she continued, her tone deliberate. “And you’re about to deal with even more. Let me handle this—just to make things easier.” She smiled softly, trying to reassure him.</b>


    <b>He clenched his jaw.</b>


    <b>He knew what this was. Iris didn’t trust him to drive. None of them did. They thought he was too on edge, too reckless, too close to losing control. And he was so damn tired of it.</b>


    <b>They didn’t get it. This was </b><b><i>his</i></b><b> problem. </b><b><i>His</i></b><b> sister. He could handle it. He didn’t need them treating him like he was fragile, like he might shatter under the weight of it all.</b>


    <b>But arguing would only waste time.</b>


    <b>“Fine,” he muttered, tossing her the keys.</b>