Ryan’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with urgency and panic.

"Where are you? Do you even know what happened to Cassidy? How could you just leave like this?! She—she tried to kill herself! Do you get it?!"

Landon’s face drained of color. His eyes flickered with guilt and hesitation as he glanced at Zara, clearly caught between duty and desire, unsure of how to navigate this mess.

“I’ve got something to take care of today,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Zara barely reacted. Her voice was flat, almost indifferent. “Oh.”

Then, with a calmness that even she hadn’t expected, she added, “If it’s too much for her, she can stay at our house.”

Landon’s head snapped up, his face showed shock and disbelief. “What did you just say?!”

“I said,” Zara repeated, her tone unwavering, “she can stay at our house.”

Landon’s jaw tightened. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to check on her. I’ll be back soon. I won’t let her stay at our house.”

“You’re my fiancé,” Zara said, her voice sharp.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, almost too quickly, before turning and walking away, practically fleeing like a man running from his own conscience.

...

By the time Zara wrapped up dinner with her friends, it was well past midnight. Fatigue settled deep in her bones as she hailed a cab home, her body still weak from the miscarriage.

Her phone buzzed incessantly. The screen lit up with a string of incoming messages.

[Do you know what he’s doing right now? He’s blow-drying my hair.]

[Look, these are the love letters he wrote me. Want to see them?]

Zara remained silent.

Every single message and every picture revolved around Landon.

The images, taken in what was obviously a hotel room, showed Cassidy draped in nothing but the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Bruises and kiss marks traced her skin in places that needed no explanation.

Cassidy had always been arrogant.

But this? This was just her being excessive.

Zara exhaled slowly, the weight of her exhaustion pressing down on her. She didn’t feel anger—not even heartbreak. Just an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Her fingers moved swiftly across the screen as she typed back:

[Then keep your dog on a leash and quit letting him run around biting people.]

...

The next morning, as Landon busied himself in the kitchen, another message from Cassidy popped up.

[Come to Starlight Tower tomorrow.]

Zara’s jaw tightened. 'How ridiculous.'

Without a second thought, she closed the message and turned away.

That day, she gathered her things.

Every love letter. Every diary entry she had ever written for Landon.

One by one, they went into the trash.

The carefully folded paper stars. The protective charm she had once prayed over at Everlight Sanctuary. The scarf she had bought but never had the chance to give him. The bag of White Rabbit candies she had intended to share with him.

All of it went up in flames.

Seven years of memories—of pain, of hope—burned away in seconds.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, her mind looping through thoughts of Cassidy, of Landon, of every single lie she had swallowed whole.

When she finally managed to drift off, the sharp buzz of her phone jolted her awake.

A message from Landon:

[Be good and stay home. I’ll come see you this afternoon.]

Almost immediately after, another message.

This time, from Cassidy:

[I know you want to go back to Westfield. If you don’t come to Starlight Tower, I’ll tell him about your plans to leave.]

Zara’s fingers tightened around her phone.

'So this was the game now? Threats?' she thought

Zara, then, took a slow breath, forcing her emotions down.

Then, she typed back one word:

[Fine.]

...

Starlight Tower was a historical landmark, steeped in legend. People whispered that it had been built by an ancient emperor for his true love.

They said if lovers prayed there, their souls would be forever connected, bound together in this life—and the next.

Seven years ago, Zara had stood at these very steps, praying for Landon.

She could still hear his voice in her mind—bored, indifferent. “You’re not a kid anymore. If you want something, go by yourself. My time is precious—can you afford to waste it?”

Back then, she had swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to smile, waiting for him to turn around and see her.

Just once. Just for a second.

But he never did.

And that’s when she finally understood.

It wasn’t that Landon couldn’t love her.

He just didn’t love her.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice cooed, pulling Zara out of her thoughts. “So you were waiting here all along.”

Zara turned, finding Cassidy descending the stone steps, her heels clicking against the ancient rock. She looked effortlessly composed, her smirk lazy, her eyes alight with amusement.

But beneath all of that, her cold, calculating malice was unmistakable.

“You actually had the guts to show up here?” Cassidy’s voice dripped with mockery, full of venom. “Aren’t you scared you might not leave alive?”

Zara stood still, letting the weight of Cassidy’s words settle around her. But then, something inside her clicked. She wasn’t afraid of Cassidy. She wasn’t afraid of any of this.

She had nothing left to lose.

With a slow, steady breath, Zara squared her shoulders, meeting Cassidy’s gaze head-on.

“If you die, do you think he’ll even care?” Cassidy’s voice was ice-cold, her eyes narrowing as if she were seriously contemplating shoving Zara down the stairs.

Zara’s heart pounded. “You wouldn’t dare! This place follows the law, you know!” she spat, but even as the words left her lips, she knew how powerless they were.

Cassidy didn’t hesitate. Before Zara could react, a sharp yank sent them both tumbling down the stairs.

Pain shot through Zara’s body, a sharp, searing sensation radiating from every bone, every muscle.

The air rushed past her ears with the sound of hurried footsteps and a voice—one full of panic and desperation.

“Cassidy!”

Zara tried to steady herself, but Cassidy, already on the ground, clutched her knee and let out a wail. Her face twisted in pain, but behind the dramatics, there was something else—mockery.

Triumph.

The rain had started falling, a soft drizzle soaking into their clothes, washing over them like an omen.

And then, like clockwork, Landon appeared.

He rushed to Cassidy’s side, his face twisted in worry.

He didn’t even look at Zara. Not once.

“I was late—how did you fall down the stairs?” His voice was thick with worry as he cradled Cassidy in his arms like she was made of glass.

Cassidy whimpered, gripping his sleeve. “It’s all her fault! She pushed me! She pushed me down the stairs!”

Zara’s blood boiled, but the words died in her throat.

'What was the point?'

Landon had already made up his mind.

He turned to Zara, his voice sharp, full of betrayal. “You might hate Cassidy, but how could you push her down the stairs?! I’m beyond disappointed in you!”

Cassidy nestled into his arms, milking the moment, while Landon carried her off like a hero in some twisted fairytale.

Zara? She was left standing there, bleeding, her body aching, the rain soaking into her skin.

She never cried.

But this time, she broke.

She collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, the sound of her own heartbreak swallowed by the storm.

...

Alone and barely able to walk, Zara dragged herself to the hospital, each step heavier than the last.

And then, he appeared.

Landon stood at the door, his posture stiff, guilt evident in every inch of his face. “I lost my temper today... I know Cassidy can be... willful. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Zara didn’t even flinch. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—a message from Cassidy—but she didn’t bother to look. She just stood there, silent.

Too indifferent.

Before, she would’ve raged. She would’ve screamed, demanded answers, and made a scene.

Now? Now, she had nothing left to give.

Landon’s voice cracked, desperation seeping through. “Zara, why don’t you care anymore?”

Zara blinked, realizing something at that moment.

She was done.

She was completely, utterly done.

“I’ll check on Cassidy and come right back, okay?” Landon added, his voice softer as if that would somehow make this better.

Zara glanced down at the plane ticket in her hand.

A soft, hollow laugh escaped her lips. Landon stood there in his neat trench coat, composed, unreadable—as if none of this had happened.

She turned away.

No words. No dramatic scene. No last glance back.

Just her, her luggage, and the decision she should have made a long time ago.

"I'm sorry, Landon," she whispered, knowing he couldn't hear her. "I don't want your truth. My life's chapter with you is closed. You don’t even exist anymore."

The towering skyscrapers stretched high into the sky, gleaming under the bright sunlight. It was a picture-perfect day, the kind meant for weddings, for joy.

For Zara, it was a day of scars. Wounds that would never heal.

...

At the airport, chaos erupted.

A panicked voice rang out. “Mr. Winston, Miss Sullivan has left!”

Landon’s head snapped up, his face draining of color. “What do you mean, ‘left’?! Where did Zara go?!”