Zayn’s POV
“Are you listening to me, Zayn?” Her voice snapped through the air like a whip, yanking me back from my thoughts. I blinked a few times, feigning confusion.
“Are you being abused?” she asked, her tone suddenly sharp and heavy with concern.
“Yes.” The word slipped out flat, almost lifeless.
Her eyes flew wide. A gasp tore from her throat, and her trembling hands shot to her mouth. “Oh… my… God.” The words stumbled out of her, tangled with disbelief. “You’ve been going through all this and… you didn’t think to tell me?” Her eyes shone, tears pooling as her voice cracked.
I looked straight at her, letting my expression soften into the most pitiful mask I could muster. The truth? Abuse doesn’t rattle me anymore — I’ve grown used to it. But her pity… her sympathy? That’s valuabl
