Valtira.
I stared at him, my chest rising too fast, heart still weak—yet my anger burned stronger than anything trying to hold me down.
Zarek’s jaw hardened. He still refused to look at me. His eyes stayed glued somewhere on the floor, his voice sharp and low, almost bored, “It’s none of your business.”
For a second—I couldn’t even breathe.
None of my business?
My stomach twisted so hard I tasted bitterness. My hands trembled over the blanket as I blinked at him, not understanding. “What… what do you mean?” My voice cracked. “Zarek, what do you mean it’s not my business?”
He didn’t look up.
Didn’t even try.
My voice rose, breaking apart. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Why are you shutting me out?”
That ache in my chest tore open again—deeper, uglier, more humiliating than
