Chapter 6

Zoe was shoved out the front door.

By now, the sky had gone completely dark. Snow was falling hard, the wind cutting through her even beneath her thick winter coat. The pain in her body only made the cold feel worse.

She hadn’t even gotten up yet when Dylan threw her suitcase out after her.

“Take your stuff and get lost!” he barked.

With a loud thud, the suitcase slammed into her wrist.

A sharp crack rang out.

Zoe let out a scream that cut through the night. “Dylan—it hurts! I think my wrist is broken! And my stomach... it really hurts...”

Dylan hesitated. His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. But his voice remained cold and impatient.

“Oh, stop pretending! I’m not going to feel sorry for you. That suitcase isn’t even heavy. No way it broke your wrist.”

“I swear… it really hurts,” Zoe gasped. Her face was pale, cold sweat dripping down as her entire body seized up.

“I’m not asking for much,” she whispered. “Just… can you call an ambulance for me?”

“Ugh. Quit the act,” Dylan muttered with a sneer. Still, he came down the steps and roughly scooped her into his arms.

“I’ll take you to the hospital. But I’m warning you—if you’re faking, you’ll regret it.”

Zoe could barely speak. Her lips were white, trembling. She managed only a faint “Thank you.”

Dylan shoved her into the passenger seat. As he started the engine, his phone rang. It connected automatically to the car’s Bluetooth, and a syrupy voice filled the car.

“Dylan, I just cut my hand peeling shrimp. It really hurts... can you come kiss it better?”

It was Jenny.

Dylan’s face instantly softened into a smile, his tone warm and doting, like he was comforting a child.

“Just wait for me at home, sweetheart. I’ll be there soon.”

As soon as he hung up, he turned to Zoe, his face going cold again in a heartbeat.

“Get out.”

Zoe looked at him, stunned. “Dylan, please… I’m in so much pain. Can’t you just take me to the hospital first?”

His voice dropped, icier than before.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

Something inside her finally went numb.

“I get it,” she whispered, forcing a bitter smile.

She reached for the door, trying to open it, but her whole body was shaking. Even her good hand had gone weak. She couldn’t move.

All the pain, the humiliation, the exhaustion—it finally spilled over. Her vision blurred with tears as she choked back a sob.

But Dylan had no patience left.

He yanked the door open, shoved her out with force.

“Who are you pretending for now? You think I’m buying this performance? I don’t have time for your drama!”

She wasn’t ready. She hit the icy ground hard, her forehead slamming against the pavement with a sickening crack. Blood poured instantly from the wound.

Zoe groaned, the pain crashing over her like a wave. Cold sweat soaked her back. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her vision was turning red.

“Help…” she gasped, barely louder than a whisper.

Dylan glanced at her once, his expression unreadable, then slammed the door and drove off into the snow.

Zoe lay trembling on the ground, tears streaming down her face as the car vanished into the blizzard.

And then—everything went black.

*

In her haze, Zoe began to dream.

She was fifteen again.

It was the day of her parents’ funeral. The snow was heavy, blanketing the world in white. She had cried so hard in front of their portraits that she nearly passed out.

Everything had felt like it was collapsing.

Then, through the falling snow, sixteen-year-old Dylan appeared. He was tall and slender in a black coat. His face was cold, but his embrace was warm.

He had placed a hand gently over her eyes and whispered in her ear, “Don’t cry. Your parents wouldn’t want that.”

Zoe had sobbed, “Dylan… I don’t have a home anymore.”

And Dylan had leaned closer, his voice soft as snow.

“Even an eagle flying high still has a nest. Wherever I am, that’s your home now. Your parents will be watching over you from above—and I’ll be here to protect you.”

Zoe had carried those words with her for years.

But the boy who once promised to protect her had fallen in love with someone else.

And that warmth… no longer belonged to her.

*

The tightness in her chest woke her. She sat up with a jolt, gasping for air.

She was in a hospital bed, still hooked up to an IV. The room was empty.

Buzz...

Suddenly, a phone vibrated on the cabinet next to her. She glanced over—and saw a message pop up on the screen.

It was from Jenny.

“Dylan Xander, what the hell do you mean by this?!”