I walk into an empty house.

It feels colder inside than it does outside. No one is home, but that's no surprise, it's dead silent.

As soon as I walk into the house though, I let out a whimper. Like a wounded dog, I've returned to the place I loathe the most.

When Zayn told me we were going to the cabin, I had no idea that things would end up the way they are. I thought that we'd end up closer, maybe talk things out, work them through... But not this.

Thinking about him made me lose my appetite. It was like motion sickness, but at the same time, the guilt was killing me. As I walked up that familiar staircase, the one I had seen Zayn from for the first time, tears clouded my vision. Everything was so different. And for once in my life, I knew I was entirely at fault.

Zayn meant well. Despite my own attempts to make him feel guilty and at fault, lying to people is easy compared to lying to myself. He had tried the best he could to be the man for me, and I think deep down he is, but I'm too far gone. At this point, maybe I belong all alone.

"Ah, I see you're back."

I hear my father's voice just as I'm unlocking the door to my bedroom. It's icy and condescending, nothing surprising. I expected worse.

I don't want him to see me like this, broken down and defeated. I know he will use it as an opportunity to say that he was right about everything, he's a proud man. I just can't hear that from him. He has no right.

My mind tells me I'm better off without Zayn. He's dangerous, a killer, he's violent beyond understanding, and possessive. But I love him. And I'm so guilty because it's my fault I've lost him for good. How could I expect not to lose him? I ignored my father's warnings about him when my father should have just warned Zayn against me.

"Yeah, I'm back. Can we not do this now? I just wanna go to bed."

He chuckles. "Where is the boy?"

"I don't know."

I wish I knew.

My father just stands there for a moment, thinking about something deeply. "It won't benefit either of you to play dumb. You know what he's done, you know his location. He's not at the apartments, so where is he?"

"Why do you want to know?" My voice is shaky and fearful, his insistence is intimidating.

He inches towards me, a prominent smirk on his face.

"I know where your mother is, Anastasia. I can take you to her. I can help you and her, financially. But you need to tell me where he is."

My mouth is slightly agape in surprise, this has to be a clever scheme to get me to talk. My mother? My stomach is in knots and I feel extremely nauseous.

"You said she abandoned us..."

He waves off my words. "I may have said that, yes, it doesn't make it true."

Although my father has not been there, he's hurt me, he's neglected me, the fact that he lied to me makes everything else seem invisible. He saw how I suffered as I grew up, he chose to ignore that because other things were priorities. But lie and just go on about your life?

It occurs to me that this is what I've done. I've lied to people and just moved on with my life without caring about how I've fucked with them and hurt them.

I am just like my father.

"Where is Zayn, Anastasia?"

I am struggling so much, because this open wound has just gotten so much deeper and all I want is my mother. She wasn't the best and this situation is so beyond incomprehensible, but I need her. I need to know everything.

"Take me to my mother, I will tell you."

I'm surprised when my father takes my hand. He takes a deep breath, as if ready to confess to everything horrible he's ever done.

"You know where she is, also."

I'm not understanding. "What? No I don't."

He shakes his head. "Zayn's building. She is there."