Zoe's my POV
The front gate creaked open.
Then groaned shut.
A heartbeat later, hurried footsteps pounded across the front porch.
Fast.
Uneven.
Almost desperate.
Garrett looked toward the entrance before I did.
His shoulders sagged with visible relief.
"She's home."
The words had barely escaped him when the front door burst inward with a loud bang that echoed through the house.
Chloe stumbled inside.
Her chest rose and fell in frantic breaths, each inhale sounding like it hurt.
The polished image the television audience had just watched was completely gone.
Her makeup had surrendered to exhaustion. Mascara streaked beneath her eyes in dark smudges. A few strands of her carefully styled hair had escaped completely, sticking to the sweat on her forehead and cheeks. Even the elegant cream-colored blazer she'd worn during the interview looked wrinkled, as though she'd been grabbed from every direction.
