The white motion-sensor lights in the hallway cast an eerie glow over Landon’s face, making him look almost ghostly.
“Zinnia…”
He braced himself against the wall and tried to stand, but suddenly staggered, nearly losing his balance.
Zinnia, quick on her feet, stepped aside to avoid being knocked into.
“You should go home,” she said, her voice cool and even. “It’s the middle of the night—if you keep lurking outside my door, you’ll end up scaring my neighbor, the old professor across the hall.”
Her expression remained blank.
Landon didn’t seem to register her words. He just leaned against the wall, his brow furrowed and his face taut with discomfort.
“Landon!” she called.
“Landon?”
When he still didn’t respond, Zinnia, growing impatient, reached out and gave him a push.
Her palm met burning heat, and her frown deepened.
“Are you running a fever?” She sounded more annoyed than concerned.
Landon always found a way to make trouble for her.
“Landon, you have a fever,” she said, raising her voice to make sure he heard.
Slowly, his heavy eyelids fluttered open. His fever-bright eyes were rimmed red, and with the vulnerable, wounded look he gave her, he did look a little pitiful.
“I just want to say a few things, then I’ll go,” he managed, his voice raspy from the fever.
Zinnia’s irritation only grew.
“I didn’t take down the Dapper video to help Noelle Jensen, or to protect the Jensen family,” he explained, his words tumbling out in a rush, desperate for her to understand. “I watched that video… it tore me up inside. All I could think about was how much worse you’d feel if you saw it. That’s why I had it taken down—I was afraid you’d see it.”
He got the whole explanation out in one breath, as if terrified she’d walk away before he finished. When he looked at her, he looked truly desperate. “Please, Zinnia. Just believe me this once. I’m begging you.”
Zinnia wore the same blank, speechless expression she reserved for Chandler Morrison.



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