The housekeeper cinto the den with a message that set Fitch's teeth on edge. “Sir, Ms. Bennitt is at the front gate. Should I let

her in?”

Fitch felt an immediate distaste at the thought of seeing her. He had pegged her as a stable sort, never imagining she could stir up

such scandal.

“No,” he replied, his voice sharp with finality. After his brief response, he grabbed his coat from the rack and exited through the

back door.

It wasn’t until he pulled up to the pet store that he realized why he had driven there.

Ozzy was gone, and in a way, it was on his conscience. It only seemed right to get a new puppy for Zoey as a gesture of

atonement.

But as he walked among the rare breeds, his gaze kept being drawn to a memory of a scrappy little gray mongrel that somehow

seemed more sincere, more beautiful than the ones before him.

Hesitating only a moment, he chose a pristine white pup and, carrying it in a crate, inquired about Zoey’s whereabouts.

Learning that she was in the hospital, he immediately set off in that direction.

Halfway there, he realized that he wouldn't normally do such a thing for anyone else. His brow furrowed as he pondered whether it

was his involvement that had dragged Zoey into this mess to begin with.

Pressing the accelerator, he continued toward the hospital.

Zoey's fever had broken, and she was awake, though her lips were cracked and bloody. She said nothing, staring blankly at the

ceiling, haunted by dreams of Ozzy wagging his little tail, and then of Wendy heartlessly dropping him from a height. Pain throbbed

her—there wasn't a place that

be a cruel pattern in her life: everything she tried to

broth and placed it beside Zoey. “Drink ssoup;

blinked slowly and tried to sit up, her stomach churning at the sight

as she clutched her stomach, “Cornelia, could I have a moment alone,

and check on you later.

lost

the accident and the fever, Zoey had lost

but found it

Zoey leaned back and zoned out, wearing a hospital gown

threaten to break her.

back to reality, followed by its opening. She

look up.

a familiar presence made her turn.

been yesterday, Zoey wouldn't have been able to stay composed, but now, she felt nothing but

ever truly liked Fitch? Liking him was exhausting,

said, his voice as detached as ever, even in this Sᴇaʀᴄh

moment of supposed amends.

Zoey blinked, uncomprehending.

first the'd cto

of soup and flung it at

was her turn to deliver the word he had hurled at her the night

“Get out.”

quivered, his brow furrowed. “What

a cup and throwing it at his forehead with all the strength she had

get out,” she repeated, her

to rage, but then he saw something in her eyes—a lifelessness that unsettled

how much she had withered, the standard-size hospital gown hanging loosely

at him, the light that used to shine from

stood frozen, unable to

a while, the best he could muster was, “Don’t be

cto offer compensation, a gesture of politeness in response to the scandalous videos

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