Hannah didn''t bother to correct him and sat down for breakfast.


    "Oh, savory porridge today? Good boy, you remembered your wife can''t eat seafood!" Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. said,dling a bowl for Hannah.


    Hannah epted it with a smile, but her brow furrowed slightly as she looked at the finely chopped century egg in the porridge. She set the bowl aside.


    Lionel noticed her faint look of disgust, and his face soured. "There''s no seafood in it!"


    Hannah looked down, her voice t.


    "You forgot. I don''t eat century eggs."


    Her quiet words instantly wiped the displeasure from his face. His eyes widened as a long-forgotten memory resurfaced.


    "Lily, from now on, you''ll be in charge of the meals again," Hannah said. Then, she looked at Lionel, her tone devoid of any real concern, though her words feigned it. "You''re busy at the office. You shouldn''t have to worry about trivial things like this."


    His two attempts at cooking felt like a p followed by a piece of candy, except the candy wasn''t sweet. It was nauseating.


    A dead silence fell over the dining room.


    Their grandmother shot her grandson a disappointed look. "Do as Hannah says. At this rate, she won''t even be able to get a proper breakfast. I just praised you for remembering, and it turns out you''ve forgotten everything."


    Hannah ate the pastas Lily quickly prepared, her face a nk mask.


    After breakfast, she intended to drive herself to work, but under Mrs. Rosenberg''s watchful eye, she had no choice but to get into Lionel''s car.


    "I''m still holding your position for you. Call Yves and tell him you''re noting back."


    Hannah stared out the window. "Just drop me at the subway station."


    A screech of tires filled the air as he mmed on the brakes. Hannah lurched forward, nearly hitting her head on the dashboard.


    "I told you to make the call. Are you deaf?" he snarled, his eyes glinting with cold fury. "Sandra has already given up her position. What more do you want? You really think you can join the Lancaster Group without people gossiping?"


    Hannah unbuckled her seatbelt. "What would they say? That I used some underhanded means to get the job? Lionel, do you want me to pull the security footage of my interview? Or should f show, you may resume, so you can see that I am not the ipetentwyer you think I am?"


    "Let''s not forget, the one who needs connections to clean up their messes and get into a top firm is Sandra, not me!"


    She threw the car door open and stood outside, staring him down. "I don''t want to fight with you anymore. In twenty-three days, ''f see you at the courthouse. Let''s just end this civilly. There''s no need to make it any uglier than it already is."


    She mmed the door and walked toward the subway station without looking back. If Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. hadn''te to stay, she wouldn''t have set foot in this house. She would have stayed in a hotel to avoid these endless, draining fights.


    On the crowded train, Hannah stood numbly, watching her reflection in the window: She looked fragile, as it asaf a single touch would shatter her. She let out a silent, weary sigh just as a message from Tess came through. Lionel had changed his mind again.


    At that moment, she felt an invisible force draining the life out of her. She gripped


    her phone tightly, thought for a long moment, and then made a call.