Chapter 689

It was as if they had all conspired to torment him, one after the other, giving him no moment of peace.

“Whether it’s a lot or a little, that’s for the police to decide. The real question is whether you can even afford it. Don’t embarrass yourself by failing to come up with a measly few tens of thousands p>

“If you can’t pay the settlement, I’ll go to your mother. Let’s see if she’ll pay up to protect the Rosenberg family name p>

Mrs. Woods stood up, her gaze fixed sternly on Lionel. After delivering her final threat, she turned and left.

On her way out, she shot a glare at the staff member who approached her, snapping at them not to follow her, that she could see herself out.

Once she was gone, Lionel let out a long sigh and headed for the bedroom.

Lying in bed, Lionel wished he could close his eyes, reopen them, and be back in a time before all the fighting with Hannah had started.

The bedding was a set Hannah had picked out. He could still smell her faint, fragrant scent on it.

He pulled the covers over his head, took a deep breath, and then exhaled in frustration. He curled into a ball, wishing he could escape from everything.

But he knew he couldn’t. He had to face it.

Just as Mrs. Woods had said, if the settlement was only a few tens of thousands and Hannah blocked the payment for too long, Mrs. Woods would undoubtedly go to his mother.

His mother would probably pay, but he didn’t know how she would handle the aftermath. He also had no idea what amount the police would demand. If it was just tens of thousands, it might be manageable.

But if it was hundreds of thousands, his mother would definitely have an issue.

And if Mrs. Woods went to his mother, Quennel would inevitably find out. He would probably tell Hannah, who would then likely try to intervene again. The thought of it all gave him a throbbing headache.

That night Lionel didn’t know how he managed to fall asleep. He just knew that when he woke up, his head was heavy and dizzy his limbs felt weak, and his throat burned as if it were on fire.

“Hannah, can you get me a glass of water?” he mumbled, half-conscious.

After a moment, he instinctively reached out from under the covers to take the glass he expected to be there.

But his fingers met only empty air. He fumbled a few more times before throwing off the covers in irritation.

“Didn’t I ask you to get me some water? Why haven’t you p>

His words trailed off as he jolted from his groggy state into full awareness. The realization hit him like a physical blow.

Hannah hadn’t been home in almost half a month.

She didn’t want him anymore. Of course, she wasn’t here to get him water.

He remembered a time when he’d had a fever He had instinctively come back to this house. In the middle of the night, Hannah had felt his burning skin as he got into bed and had immediately gotten up t give him water and medicine.

He could feel her by his side the entire night.

All he had to do was whisper “water,” and a cool drink would instantly soothe his throat.

Lionel let out a long sigh and

propped himself up with difficulty,

leaning against the headboard. He

gazed around the familiar yet

strange room, his eyes landing on the empty picture frame on the nightstand. A sharp pain, like a knife twisting in his heart, seized him.

Everything he’d once had was so easily within his grasp, but he had never

cherished it. Only now that it was gone did the pain set in.

*Buzz, buzz, buzz.* The phone on the nightstand suddenly vibrated.

Lionel reached for it. Seeing the caller ID, his brow furrowed. He hesitated for a few seconds before finally answering the call.