Hannah met his stare, then calmly stepped aside to let him pass without a word.


    As she walked past him, Lionel''s hand shot out and mped around her slender wrist.


    "I asked you a question. Didn''t you hear me?"


    "I''m going out for some air."


    The lie was so obvious he scoffed. "Going to see Yves, are you? He''s so good to you. Why didn''t he drive you home instead of letting you get caught in the rain?"


    Hannah looked at him. His words wereced with mockery, but underneath, she detected a faint trace of... jealousy? Or maybe it was just satisfaction that Yves hadn''t driven her, proving he wasn''t as considerate as he seemed.


    She forced a smile and pulled her wrist from his grasp. "Because Mr. Lancaster understands boundaries, especially since he knows I''m a married woman. It''s called respect."


    With that, she turned and walked down the stairs, not sparing him another nce.


    Lionel stood on thending, looking down at her, his grandmother''s words from the day before echoing in his mind.


    Boundaries...


    That viper Yves knew nothing about boundaries. This was just another one of his games.


    In the coffee shop, the consignment shop manager was already waiting. She greeted Hannah warmly as she approached.


    Hannah handed over the jewelry and its authenticity certificates.


    The manager examined the pieces for a long time. "These are all exquisite, top-of- the-line items," she said with a sigh of admiration. "Are you sure you want to sell them, Ms. Green?"


    "Yes. Something''se up, and I


    need the cash. I''m willing to be flexible on the price," Hannah replied,


    her gaze drifting


    to the vibrant city


    lights outside. Couples walked


    arm-in-arm, lost in their own worlds. She quickly looked away.


    "Alright, then. We''ll stick to the price we discussed. Here''s the contract." The manager passed it to her.


    Hannah signed it without hesitation. "I''ll likely have more to sell soon. I hope you''ll be avable."


    "Of course, of course. It would be my pleasure."


    Hannah took the check, slipped it into her purse, and left. She wandered the


    streets alone, losing track of time until the sidewalks grew quiet and empty. Only then did she head home.


    Back on the second floor, she instinctively walked toward the master bedroom. Her hand was on the doorknob before she remembered and pulled it back. But after a moment''s hesitation, a wave of turmoil washed over her, and she pushed the door open.


    The room was empty. Everything was just as it had been, as if no one had slept there for days.


    She checked the guest room. It was empty, too.


    "Where''s Lionel?" she asked Lily, who was tidying up nearby.


    "Mr. Rosenberg left right after you did, ma''am," Lily whispered. "Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. is already asleep; she doesn''t know."


    Hannah quietly closed the door. "Keep it that way. Don''t let Grandma find out. And when he gets back, tell him to stay in the guest room, just like before."


    She then returned to the master bedroom. After a quick shower, she stepped out of the bathroom and her eyes fell on the photo wall.


    She loved taking pictures, but Lionel hated it. She''d had to sneak candid shots of him, printing them out and arranging them on the wall next to photos of herself. Now, looking at them, each picture felt like testament to her own foolishness.


    Her hair still damp, Hannah walked over to the wall and pulled down every single photo. One by one, she took a pair of scissors and cut them into pieces, her eyes dark and empty, filled only with contempt for her own naive heart.