The moment Zoe laid eyes on Lisa, she was thrown back to the days when she was tortured at the rehabilitation center.

Tugging at her overcoat, she said coldly, “Stop begging me! Let me make something clear. I’m going to check on him because he’s the father of my children, not because of you.”

That still meant she was willing to go. Lisa couldn’t help but shed a tear, “Alright! I understand.” She had lowered herself to this extent, but it did nothing to move Zoe.

Later, Zoe remained quiet in the car while Lisa kept biting her tongue every time she tried to talk. In the end, she sighed and said, “I know you hate me, Zoe.”

Zoe turned her face to the side and looked at the snow out the window. Her voice was soft when she said, “I’ll never forget that hellhole. So, don’t expect me to forgive you.”

Lisa covered her face in response.

Perhaps she was getting old or perhaps she was shaken from the possibility of losing her son again. Either way, she started reminiscing. Zoe used to gre