Zoe stared at the phone for a moment before realizing—it was Dylan’s.

Before she could react, it buzzed again. Then again. One message after another kept lighting up the screen.

“You said you’d stay with me! And now you’re rushing to her just because she got hurt?

“Do you not love me anymore?! Have you fallen for her?!

“You’d better explain, or I swear I’ll break up with you!”

Dylan had come after all.

Zoe’s emotions swirled into a complicated mess.

He was always like this—trying to be cold, but never able to go all the way through with it.

As the messages kept coming with no reply, Jenny must have grown desperate. She started a video call.

Zoe felt a wave of irritation. She wanted to silence the phone but quickly realized she couldn’t move her hand.

Her fingers brushed over the thick layers of gauze, and her expression froze.

No... it couldn’t be...

A nurse stepped in just then. “Miss Stone, you’re awake.”

Zoe sat up quickly. “Nurse, my hand—what happened to it?”

The nurse hesitated, her face tightening with sympathy. After a long pause, she finally said, “Miss Stone, the doctor did everything he could. But… you got to the hospital too late. You missed the best treatment window.”

“So… it’s disabled?”

The nurse chose her words carefully. “You won’t be able to carry anything heavy with that hand anymore.”

Oddly, hearing the truth didn’t shake her. It only confirmed what she had already suspected.

In her past life, Dylan had lost the use of one hand trying to protect her.

This time, she lost one herself. Consider it repayment.

But the nurse wasn’t finished. “Also… because you just had the procedure and then were left in the cold for so long, there’s severe damage to your uterus. You may never be able to have children again.”

Zoe froze, her gaze dropping instinctively to her abdomen.

She stared blankly, as if the words hadn’t quite registered.

No children…?

Once upon a time, that would have devastated her.

Now… it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t planning to get married in this lifetime.

Maybe she wasn’t even capable of falling in love again.

The nurse glanced at her strangely, confused by her eerie calm. Assuming Zoe had gone into psychological shock, she quickly tried to comfort her.

“It’s not definite, Miss Stone. There’s still a chance—”

Clang.

Something crashed to the floor behind them.

A thermos rolled across the tiles, hot soup splattered everywhere.

Zoe looked up and locked eyes with Dylan.

He was standing in the doorway, ghost-white, frozen in place.

He had clearly heard everything.

His eyes trembled, lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but no words came out.

The nurse glanced between them, then quickly slipped out, leaving the two alone.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

Finally, Dylan spoke.

“I…”

He looked directly at her, struggling for words. After a long pause, his voice cracked.

“I’m sorry.”

His mind was spinning.

He couldn’t stop thinking—

If he hadn’t left…

If Zoe hadn’t been left out in the snow for four hours…

Would the outcome have been different?

But Zoe felt nothing anymore. No sorrow, no anger. Just exhaustion.

She didn’t speak. She simply gave a quiet nod.

Dylan stiffened.

That wasn’t the response he had expected.

He had thought she would seize this chance to guilt him into marriage. That she would cry, plead, use this as leverage.

But she didn’t.

She just looked… tired.

Before he could process what that meant, a sudden voice broke the silence.

“Zoe! Oh my god, what happened?!”

Mr. and Mrs. Xander rushed into the room.

Mr. Xander’s face was dark with worry. “We were gone on a short business trip—how the hell did things get this bad?!”

Seeing their genuine concern, Zoe thought of her past life—of what came after Dylan’s death.

Back then, Mr. and Mrs. Xander had cursed her with the cruelest words they could find.

But she hadn’t blamed them.

Because deep down, she believed it was her fault he died.

Mrs. Xander’s eyes turned red. “Does it hurt?”

Zoe shook her head gently. “Not anymore.”

Mr. Xander turned sharply to Dylan, his tone hardening.

“You’d better explain. What the hell happened? Did you do this to her?”

Before Dylan could say a word, Zoe cut in.

“This has nothing to do with him. I was careless—it was my own fault.”

Dylan froze again, his expression growing even more unreadable.

Mr. Xander wasn’t buying it. “Zoe, stop covering for him. Last time, you begged us not to push him, and now you’re defending him again!”

Zoe only gave a tired smile. “It really has nothing to do with him.”

Mrs. Xander wiped her tears, glaring at Dylan with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

"How did I raise such a blind, foolish son? You treat glass like diamonds and mistake trash for treasure. I will never approve of that girl—Jenny!"

Mr. Xander chimed in, voice firm. "Neither will I. As far as I’m concerned, Zoe is the only daughter-in-law this family will ever have."

Jenny had always been Dylan’s Achilles' heel. The moment he heard that, his eyes reddened with fury.

“Jenny’s a good person! You just refuse to see it!”

“You foolish boy!” Mr. Xander’s expression darkened and then he slapped Dylan hard across the face.

Smack.

Dylan’s head jerked to the side, but he said nothing at first. He stared at the floor in silence for a long moment before turning to Zoe with eyes full of venom.

“Well done, Zoe. Playing the victim. Using every trick in the book—pulling sympathy, staging drama. I’m telling you, I’d rather die than marry you.”

“You ungrateful brat!” Mr. Xander roared, reaching out to hit him again.

But Dylan didn’t flinch. He just glared at Zoe, his stare sharp and menacing.

“Please, Mr. Xander, don’t hit him!” Zoe tried to stop him, but her body wouldn’t respond. In a panic, she slipped off the bed and hit the floor hard.

Thud.

Her forehead slammed into the cabinet. Blood immediately began to seep through the gauze.

“Zoe!” Mr. and Mrs. Xander cried out in alarm, rushing to her side and shouting for a nurse.

Dylan watched the scene unfold with a flicker of shock but in the end, he said nothing. He let out a cold scoff and walked out without looking back.

Zoe watched his retreating figure. Her vision blurred, and everything went black.

*

In the days that followed, Dylan never came back.

Zoe knew he was with Jenny. Just like in her past life, they had moved into a luxury hotel together.

But this time, Zoe didn’t chase after him.

She didn’t beg him to come home.

Instead, she stayed quietly in the hospital, focusing on recovery, counting down the days until she could leave.

Two days before her departure for Backwater Ridge, Zoe was discharged from the hospital.

She politely turned down Mr. and Mrs. Xander’s offer to let her stay, completed the necessary paperwork at school, and headed to the hotel she had booked in advance.

But just as she was about to swipe her keycard, she saw Dylan walking over—his arm wrapped tightly around Jenny.

All three of them stopped in the hallway, staring at each other in surprise.

Zoe blinked. “They’re staying next door?” she wondered.

In her past life, they had stayed at WH Hotel, so she had deliberately chosen a different place this time. Who would have thought they would change plans?

The moment Jenny saw her, she clung to Dylan’s arm, practically burrowing into his chest, her gaze full of smugness and challenge.

Dylan frowned sharply, his voice cold enough to cut bone.

“Are you seriously still following us?”

Zoe ignored him and calmly opened her door.

She had barely set her suitcase down when her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jenny.

“You really don’t know when to quit. Wasn’t the last lesson enough? You still have the nerve to follow us?

“Let me be clear—Dylan will never marry you. In his eyes, you’re lower than trash.”

Zoe gave the messages a single glance, then closed the app without responding.

Jenny had been sending her messages like that for a long time—especially after Dylan brought her to the hospital that night and didn’t reply to Jenny’s texts.

Since then, the messages had only grown nastier. In addition to verbal abuse, Jenny had started sending twisted photos—some graphic, some disturbing.

Photos of herself and Dylan in bed. Used contraceptives. Torn dresses. Bloodied dolls. dead kittens.

Zoe had saved them all.

She planned to hand them over to Dylan before she left—as a final “gift.”

She would expose Jenny’s true nature.

What Dylan chose to believe after that… was no longer her concern.

*

After a moment of stillness, Zoe took a long shower and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, she woke up drenched in sweat, heart pounding from a nightmare.

Something felt off.

She blinked, dazed, and sat up.

Then she realized—the power was out. The room was completely dark. The outlets were dead.

Just as panic started to rise in her chest, she heard it—click—the sound of a lock turning.

The door creaked open.

A tall, shadowy figure burst into the room.

Zoe’s heart dropped. She let out a scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth before she could finish.

The man let out a low, twisted laugh, then began yanking at her clothes.

Zoe struggled with everything she had, her knee shooting up and landing hard between his legs.

The man cried out in pain and loosened his grip for a second—just long enough for Zoe to bite his hand and tear away from him.

She sprinted for the door, shouting for help.

But he caught up to her in seconds, dragged her back, and slammed her to the floor. He pinned her down, one hand already fumbling with his belt.

Zoe kicked and screamed, but she couldn’t break free. The cold from the floor seeped into her skin as a wave of terror crashed over her.

Tears of helplessness streamed down her face.

“Zoe!”

At the very last second, the door burst open with a loud crash. Dylan stood there in his pajamas.

Bathed in the light from the hallway, he saw Zoe pinned to the floor. His eyes blazed with fury as he grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it over the man’s back.

The attacker collapsed with a cry of pain, and Dylan rushed to pull Zoe into his arms.

“Zoe, are you okay?”

Her face was pale. She couldn’t say a word, still paralyzed by fear.

She had been so close—just seconds away from…

But before she could finish the thought, the man suddenly lunged back up, yanked a knife from his pocket, and drove it toward Dylan’s back.

“Look out!”

Zoe’s eyes flew wide. On instinct, she shoved Dylan out of the way.

The blade sank deep into her chest. Blood poured instantly from the wound.

“ZOE!”

Dylan’s scream tore through the air. His pupils contracted as he caught her in his arms. The attacker, stunned, dropped the knife and bolted from the room.

Holding Zoe tightly, Dylan pressed down on her wound with trembling hands and fumbled for his phone to call 911.

His voice cracked with panic. “Zoe, are you insane? Why would you do that? Why would you take the hit for me?

“Just hang on, please. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay.”

Zoe lay in his arms, her strength slipping fast. She brushed his hand aside and gave him a faint, peaceful smile.

“Dylan... I owed you. Now we’re even.”

Dylan froze, as if someone had stabbed his heart. Her words hit him like a knife.

What did she mean, “we’re even”?

The ambulance arrived soon after, but Zoe had already lost consciousness.

The police came next. Dylan quickly gave them a summary of what happened. He meant to go find Jenny and calm her down afterward. But strangely, she was nowhere to be found. He was confused but didn’t dwell on it and left with Zoe in the ambulance.

Zoe didn’t wake up until several days later.

When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Dylan asleep at her bedside.

He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t rested in days. His face was drawn, with dark circles under his eyes.

Zoe watched him quietly for a while. Then she reached for her phone and checked her messages. One from the school had just come in:

“Zoe, we heard what happened. Do you want to delay or cancel your trip to Backwater Ridge?”

She typed her reply without hesitation:

“Thank you for checking in. I’m recovering well. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Just as she set the phone down, Dylan woke up. He looked at her, eyes full of mixed emotions, but said nothing for a long time.

Zoe spoke first. “You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened. I’m not going to use it as an excuse to hold on to you.”

Her calm, detached tone made Dylan deeply uneasy. He clenched his fists and said, “I can take responsibility… If you want, we can still get married…”

“I’m tired.”

Zoe cut him off and lay back down.

Dylan froze. There was a beat of silence before he finally said, “Then just rest. I’ll stay with you.

“The police are still searching for that man. Don’t worry—they’ll get him soon.”

Zoe said nothing. She closed her eyes.

That night, Dylan stayed, but neither of them spoke another word.

The next morning, while Dylan was in the bathroom, Zoe quietly booked her flight and a ride to the airport. When he returned, she smiled faintly and asked, “Dylan, could I ask you for a favor?”

He was a little caught off guard but nodded eagerly. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’d like some French onion soup. Could you make it and bring it to me?”

For a moment, Dylan was stunned.

That had always been Zoe’s favorite soup. She never liked it when others made it—only his version. He used to make it for her all the time. But after everything that happened, they hadn’t even had a proper conversation, let alone a home-cooked meal.

Snapping out of his daze, he nodded gently. “Okay. Just wait for me.”

Zoe didn’t respond. She simply watched him.

But she had no intention of waiting.

Dylan caught her gaze, and for some reason, unease crept up his spine.

Something felt wrong. For a moment, it was like she was saying goodbye.

He shook off the feeling and forced a warm smile. “I’ll head out now.”

Zoe watched him disappear around the corner. Then she immediately checked out of the hospital.

She scheduled a delayed email to Dylan containing all the messages and photos Jenny had sent her—proof of everything.

Then she blocked both Dylan and Jenny on every platform, transferred a large sum of money to Mrs. Xander’s account, and snapped her SIM card in two.

When she stepped out of the hospital, snow was falling again.

Zoe caught a single flake in her hand, looked one last time in the direction of the Xander home, then got into the cab.

Whatever debt she had owed Dylan in her past life—she had paid it in full.

From this moment on, they would each walk their own path, with no more debts or connections between them.