Alina’s POV
I stood in front of the vanity mirror, dabbing the last touch of color onto my lips. My reflection looked calm, but my mind wasn’t. It drifted to Zayn—where he might have slept last night, whether he’d eaten, if he was even okay.
I’d been furious yesterday, too furious to think straight. But now guilt pressed against my chest like a weight. Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe I should’ve just listened before walking away.
I reached for my phone, half-expecting to see a message from him. Nothing. Not a single text or missed call. The silence felt heavier than anger.
“Maybe I shouldn’t call him back,” I muttered under my breath, trying to convince myself it didn’t hurt. I slipped my phone into my bag, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.
But the moment I opened it, my breath c
