Zoe wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to pull herself together. She was just about to stand and leave when Dylan suddenly turned and looked straight at her.

The moment their eyes met, the warmth on his face vanished. It was replaced with unmistakable disgust.

“Zoe, are you serious? Are you ever going to quit? You followed us all the way here?!”

Zoe quickly tried to explain. “I’m here for the procedure.”

Dylan paused, caught off guard for a second—but before he could say anything, Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears.

Her gaze dropped to Zoe’s stomach and lingered there for just a moment. Then she let out a soft, choked sob and turned to run.

“Jenny!”

Dylan caught her by the wrist, pulling her back. “What’s wrong? Jenny, talk to me!”

Tears streamed down her face. “Dylan… I think we should break up. She’s pregnant with your child!”

Zoe’s voice trembled. “I’m terminating it.”

Jenny glared at her through tears. “That baby is innocent. You’re a monster.”

Zoe was stunned.

If she hadn’t accidentally seen Jenny abusing a cat—and later caught her getting involved with multiple married men—she might have actually believed Jenny was pure and kind.

That moment of discovery was what had pushed Zoe to stay and marry Dylan in her past life.

But Dylan had never believed her. Not then. Not now.

Before Zoe could say anything, Dylan snapped at her with scathing rage.

“You planned this, didn’t you?!

“If you were going to end the pregnancy, you could’ve done it quietly. But no—you had to show up in front of us and put on this pathetic act. Let me make one thing clear: I don’t care. I’m not falling for your manipulative games.”

His voice was loud, echoing through the hallway. Heads began to turn.

And right on cue, Jenny started sobbing uncontrollably, looking as fragile and innocent as a porcelain doll.

The crowd didn’t hesitate to judge.

“What a shameless girl,” someone muttered.

“She looks decent enough. Who knew she was the type to chase after someone else’s boyfriend?”

“Some people really have no shame these days.”

Zoe finally understood what it meant to be condemned without a chance to defend yourself.

Her explanation burned in her throat, but refused to come out.

After a long silence, she lowered her eyes.

“Think whatever you want. You never believe me anyway.”

For a split second, Dylan looked surprised.

But it faded quickly. His expression hardened, his voice sharper than ever.

“You’re disgusting.”

He turned back to Jenny, gently wiping the tears from her face. Without even glancing at Zoe again, he wrapped an arm around Jenny’s shoulders and walked away.

Not long after, a nurse approached.

“Miss Stone, we’re ready for you.”

The chaos ended just like that.

Zoe gave a quiet nod. She placed a hand gently over her stomach, then turned and walked in the opposite direction from where Dylan had gone.

The procedure wasn’t as painful as she had imagined. After resting at the hospital for a few hours, she went home and began packing.

She had decided to move out during her final days here. Dylan clearly didn’t want her around.

Time passed slowly. She stared at the small suitcase on the floor, dazed.

She had lived in the Xander home for six years. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had always treated her well, like their own daughter. They had bought her so many things over the years.

She wouldn’t be taking any of it with her.

Which meant—there wasn’t much that truly belonged to her.

She set the suitcase aside and looked toward the photo frame by the bed.

It was an old group photo—one where she and Dylan looked much younger, their smiles unguarded.

After a moment of hesitation, Zoe took the photo out of the frame and carefully cut herself out of it.

“Zoe!”

The door suddenly slammed open. Dylan burst in, his face dark with fury.

When he saw the suitcase at her feet, he froze. Then his anger only deepened.

“Where do you think you’re going? You think you can run away after pulling something this low?”

Before she could respond, he threw a stack of photographs at her face with a sharp smack.

Zoe’s face flushed red, tears springing to her eyes as she stared down at the photos.

She took a closer look and felt sick to her stomach.

In every photo, a woman was tangled up with older men, shirtless, her expression dazed, her body posed in deliberately suggestive ways.

And the worst part? Every single photo starred her.

Dylan’s voice was ice-cold.

“Zoe Stone, if you want to be trash, that’s your business. But don’t drag our family name down with you.”

“How the hell did your parents raise such a shameless daughter?”

His eyes bore into her like she was filth.

Zoe shook her head quickly, panicked. “That’s not me in the photos. They’ve been doctored!”

Dylan let out a bitter laugh. “So now you’re denying it? You think I’d believe a word you say? You drugged me—God knows what else you’re capable of. Addicted to men, is that it? Can’t even keep it together while pregnant?

“Our family must’ve been cursed for generations to end up with someone like you. And my parents? They still think you’re some sweet little angel. The truth is, you’re absolutely disgusting.

“I bought every last one of these photos—not to protect you, but to protect the Xander family from embarrassment.”

Every word landed like a blade, stabbing deep into Zoe’s heart. She went pale, her body trembling. But more than pain, she felt rage.

Because she knew exactly who had orchestrated this.

“That’s not me in those pictures,” she choked out. “It’s Jenny. She’s the one who had them made. She hired someone to fake them!”

The truth burst out of her, along with uncontrollable tears.

The air fell still for a heartbeat—then the storm crashed in.

“What did you just say?” Dylan snarled.

He shoved Zoe against the wall. His once-gentle eyes were now bloodshot, wild, terrifying.

“You’re blaming Jenny? You really have no shame. You don’t even deserve to say her name!”

The back of Zoe’s head slammed into the wall. Her palm, already scraped raw, began to bleed again as she braced herself.

Tears ran freely down her face, but she glared at him with stubborn defiance.

“We grew up together, Dylan! Why won’t you believe me?!

“I know those photos were fake. Jenny had them made—she’s trying to frame me because I know what she—”

“Shut up!”

The sound of his slap cracked through the air.

Zoe’s head snapped to the side, and five bright red marks appeared instantly across her pale cheek.

Before she could even react, Dylan grabbed her by the jaw and spat in her face.

“You drugged me once. Why should I believe anything you say?”

That one sentence drained the strength from her body.

Without trust, nothing she said mattered.

Seeing her go quiet only fueled Dylan’s fury.

The truth was, when he first saw the photos, a small part of him had hesitated. But looking at Zoe now—her silence, her refusal to admit anything—only confirmed it for him.

She was that kind of girl.

And worse, she had the nerve to drag Jenny’s name through the mud.

His expression turned vicious. He grabbed Zoe’s arm and yanked her toward the door.

“You want to leave so badly? Then get out! Right now!

“You’re no longer welcome in this family. I don’t care if you die out there. From this point on, you’re nothing to us!”

Zoe had only just undergone the procedure. Her body was weak, aching, and vulnerable. Dylan’s grip was brutal, and she didn’t even have the strength to fight back. Pain twisted through her abdomen with every step.

“Dylan, please—calm down. Can we just talk?” she pleaded softly. “I just had surgery. I’m not feeling well. Can I at least stay until tomorrow?”

Her lips were almost colorless, her voice barely holding together—but none of it moved Dylan.

If anything, it only made him colder.

His grip tightened, and he dragged her harder.

“Don’t play the victim in front of me. You looked perfectly fine when you were out screwing around.”

His voice dropped, deadly sharp.

“You like chasing after men so much? Then go find them. Now.”

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?!”