Hannah wanted to protest, but her grandmother had already nudged her out of the kitchen. She paused at the doorway for a second, then smiled. “Okay, Grandma. I''ll go wait in the dining room."


    "Go on, go on. There''s a tter of your favorite fruits already cut for you on the table."


    Hannah nodded and walked to the dining room. Just as her grandmother had said, a tter of sliced fruit was waiting for her. Each piece was one of her favorites, all cut beautifully.


    Every time she came to Grandma Rosenberg''s house, Hannah felt like she was a child again. No, that wasn''t right. Her own childhood hadn''t been this happy.


    She''d grown up in an orphanage, beaten by the director. Her happiest, most carefree moments hadn''te until she was an adult.


    Hannah stared at the fruit tter, lost in thought.


    When had she been most at ease? She couldn''t pinpoint it. It felt like her whole life had been spent working for others.


    It was here, in this house. That was when she could be truly carefree.


    The time she had spent visiting Grandma after her marriage—that was the most peaceful period of her life. It was here she could set down all her stress, all her pain and sorrow, and just be a child again, free to be doted on.


    A small smile touched her lips at the thought.


    Lionel, sitting opposite her, watched as she smiled to herself, lost in some unknown memory. For some reason, the sight made his heart ache.


    He pushed the fruit tter closer to her.


    "Grandma and cut these together. My knife skills aren''t great since I haven''t spent much time in the kitchen, so the cuts are probably bit clumsy if you don''t like them, just eat the ones Grandma cot. The pretty ones are hers, the ugly ones are mine."


    Hannah had noticed earlier that half the fruit was perfectly sliced while the other half was a bit rough. She had already guessed why.


    She wasn''t surprised that he admitted it, but it didn''t change anything. He seemed to have missed the point. Even if he hadn''t said a word, she would have known.


    After eating fruit prepared by her grandmother for three years, how could she not recognize her handiwork?


    Hannah ignored his words, picking up a fork with one hand and scrolling through her phone with the other, eating her fruit as if the man across from her didn''t exist.


    Watching herpletely disregard him, Lionel felt a familiar pang of sadness. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I heard you stayed in Nyston for a while after you finished your work there. I remember you used to say you wanted to see the ocean. Did you get to go this time? How was it? I hear it never snowS there, so the sea doesn''t freeze. It''s like spring all year round, with flowers blooming even in winter."


    Hannah slowly lifted her gaze from her phone, her eyes locking onto his.


    "Mr. Rosenberg, you certainly enjoy prying into other people''s lives. Did you nt a


    spy on me? Is that how you know so much about my activities?"


    "No, that''s not it. I admit I have


    people near you, but it''s not to spy on you it''s to protect you. You know how many people have been targeting youtely was worried about your safety