The young men of Red Wolf Valley stood in stunned silence. This was not the narrative they had spent weeks dissecting.

"But Evelyn said..." Hazel started, her skepticism clear. "She said you were with Seraphina because of her heart condition."

Julian let out a weary, practiced sigh. "She was ill, yes. But the reason I missed the ceremony was a car accident. I physically couldn't get to the church."

Mark frowned, recalculating his opinion of the girl who lived in the hills. "So Comrade Evelyn called off the wedding and demanded a massive settlement without even knowing the truth?"

Julian tightened his jaw. He hadn't expected Evelyn to air their dirty laundry so publicly—especially the part about the money. "There were... misunderstandings," he murmured, his voice heavy with the burden of the misunderstood.

While Hazel remained unconvinced, the others fell in line. Julian was, after all, the golden son of a factory director. In a place like this, status was a gravity that pulled everyone toward him.

Julian expected that once word of his arrival reached Evelyn, she would come running to explain herself—to beg for forgiveness for the Dominic brothers and Seraphina. But the day passed, and the path to his door remained empty.

The following morning, Julian visited the farm. He brought supplies for the Dominics and Seraphina, who were shocked to see him in such humble surroundings.

"Julian? What are you doing here?" Caleb gasped. "Don't tell me Evelyn ruined your life, too?"

Seraphina’s reaction was more visceral. At the sight of him, her eyes welled with tears that threatened to spill over her gaunt, sun-reddened cheeks. She looked at him as if he were a saint descending into the pit.

"I tried to plead your case with my cousin," Julian explained with a helpless shrug. "But I only succeeded in provoking him. He sent me here to join you."

Seraphina’s guilt was a visible weight. "Julian... this is my fault. If I hadn't cried to you..." She trailed off, looking at him with a mix of adoration and fear. She wanted him to be near her, but the thought of him suffering the same indignities as the Dominics—the same filth she scrubbed from her skin every night—hurt her pride.

"We’ll make the best of it," Julian said, though his eyes betrayed his unease.

The Dominic brothers felt a surge of loyalty. Compared to their own sister, who hadn't visited once since their "reformation" began, Julian was a paragon of virtue.

"We’ve been here over two weeks," Caleb spat, his voice raspy. "Not a word from Evelyn. Not a scrap of food. She’s a cold-blooded traitor."

Seraphina bit her cracked lip, looking down at her stained apron. "Once the misunderstanding is cleared... she'll come around."

"Misunderstanding?" Caleb scoffed. "She has a foul heart, Seraphina. She sees filth in everyone because she’s drowning in it herself."

The next day, Julian sought out Evelyn in the fields. It had been a month since she arrived in the country, and he expected to find a woman broken by the sun and the soil. He had seen Seraphina yesterday—haggard, darkened by the sun, dressed in rags that made her look twenty years older. He assumed Evelyn would be worse.

But when he found her, the sight was a blow to his ego.

Evelyn looked radiant. The rural life hadn't touched her; if anything, she looked more vibrant than she ever had in the city. The broken engagement hadn't left a single mark on her.

It was their first meeting since the day the world fell apart. Julian had lost weight; the stress of his exile was written in the hollows of his cheeks.

"Do you need something?" Evelyn asked, her voice as cool as a mountain spring.

Julian winced. "Is that how you address me now?"

Evelyn arched a perfectly shaped brow. " 'You'? Is there a problem with that?"

"Evelyn, how long are you going to keep up this petulant act?"

She didn't bother to argue. She simply adjusted the tool on her shoulder. "If you don't have anything important to say, I have work to do."

Julian let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "To you, I’m just 'you' now? After everything?"

"What do you want, Julian? For us to be 'dear friends'? 'Brother and sister'?" She curled her lip in distaste. "The thought makes my skin crawl."

"I have told you a thousand times!" Julian’s face darkened. "There is nothing between Seraphina and me!"

Evelyn nodded, her expression one of utter boredom. "Right. Noted. Are you finished?"

"You don't believe me."

"I believe you," she said, her tone suggesting she didn't care if he were telling the truth or claiming the moon was made of cheese. "Now, is that all?"

The indifference was like a physical goad. Julian reached out to grab her arm. "Come with me. We need to talk."

Evelyn stepped back, her eyes flashing with a sharp, dangerous light. "Julian! There is nothing left between us. Have some self-respect."

"Nothing? You forget we were supposed to be married!"

Evelyn felt a wave of genuine revulsion. "Are you delusional? You missed the wedding. It's over. I walked away with five thousand dollars in compensation. Didn't your parents tell you they bought your freedom?"

Julian stared at her, his eyes burning. "Evelyn! That day..."

"Whatever happened that day is irrelevant now," she snapped, turning her back on him. She strode into the field, calling out a greeting to a group of passing villagers. Her voice was warm and bright—a stark, insulting contrast to the ice she had given him.

Mark walked up, placing a hand on Julian’s shoulder. "Barrett is watching. Get to work."

Julian spent the morning in a haze of resentment. He had never touched a plow in his life. By noon, his palms were a mess of broken skin and weeping blisters.

"I have some ointment back at the house," Mark offered, seeing the raw red marks.

"No," Julian said, his voice tight. "I’m going to see Evelyn."

He caught up to her as she was leaving the field with a girl named Tess. Evelyn was laughing, a sound so genuine it made Julian’s heart ache with a strange, hollow jealousy.

"Evelyn!"

Tess looked at Julian, her eyes widening. "Is this the new guy? He’s handsome!"

Evelyn’s smile vanished the moment she turned. In his face, she didn't see a handsome man; she saw the man who, in another life, had whispered sweet lies to Seraphina while she lay dying.

Tess sensed the sudden drop in temperature. She gave Evelyn a knowing look and excused herself, scurrying away.

Julian held out his hands. His long, elegant fingers were ruined, the palms covered in angry white blisters.

Evelyn glanced at them, her gaze flicking away almost instantly. "That’s what happens when you work the earth for the first time," she said airily. "You’d better get used to it. You’ll be here a long time."

Julian couldn't believe it. He remembered a time when a simple papercut on his finger would have sent her into a spiral of worry. Now, she looked at his bleeding hands as if they were a minor inconvenience on someone else’s property.

"I don't have any medicine," he said, his voice low and searching.

Evelyn gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes—a sharp, jagged thing. "That’s a shame. Neither do I. Good luck with that."

Without another word, she turned and ran to catch up with Tess. "Tess! Wait for me!"

Julian stood alone in the dirt. He felt as though a hole had been punched through his chest, and for the first time, a cold, biting wind was beginning to whistle through the gap.