Chapter 643

A sudden wave of fatigue swept through Hannah,draining what little strength she had left. She tugged the blanket up to her shoulders, turned away, and murmured, "I need to rest. Please leave."

At her dismissal, Vincent's brows knitted together,his chest tightening as he stood still beside her bed.He could clearly sense her mood had taken a downturn. Was she upset? But why? What had he said that provoked this cold dismissal?

In his mind, his earlier words about loyalty in marriage and the inevitability of a divorce had been reasoned and honest, statements born from logic and principle, not emotion. They should have been beyond offense. Yet, her silence made him question everything.

As she lay turned away, cocooned beneath the blanket, her posture spoke volumes-shut off,unreachable, unwilling to continue the conversation.

Vincent lingered there, uncertain. Emotional subtleties had never been his strength, especially when it came to the woman who had once stirred the deepest corners of his heart. After a long pause, he said nothing. His eyes lingered on the faint outline of her back-fragile, quiet, yet filled with restrained emotion. Then, wordlessly, he turned and walked out.

The sharp click of the door latch echoed in the quiet ward, and the sound pierced Hannah's heart like a fine needle. He had really left-just like that. No question. No comfort. No attempt to stay.

Her chest felt as though it were being slowly twisted by invisible hands. The irritation wouldn't leave; it only grew tighter and more suffocating. She curled up under the blanket, a small, trembling shape swallowed by frustration.

She and Vincent were always like this-moving on different frequencies, missing each other at every turn. When she had finally stopped hoping and chosen to let him go, he had fought his way back into her life, desperate, relentless, almost mad with determination.

And now, when she had lowered her guard and started loving him again, fate had stripped him of his memories-their pain,their love, their reconciliation-all vanished, leaving behind the cold, indifferent man she had once known.

The dissonance between them felt endless, like two clocks that could never tick in time. Exhaustion settled deep into her bones, heavy and unshakable.

Several days passed before the official court summons arrived-Fred had filed a lawsuit, accusing Hannah of intentional assault.

On the morning of the hearing, Hannah walked into the courtroom with Lennon, her composure unbroken.

Her gaze instinctively swept the gallery, searching for a familiar figure. But Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Only Sharon sat among the attendees. He hadn't come...

A brief sting of disappointment flickered through her chest, but she quickly forced it down. This was not the moment for emotion. She straightened her back,her focus narrowing to the trial ahead.

Throughout the proceedings, Hannah remained calm and incisive. She presented the restaurant's surveillance footage and the records of Rodney's previous assaults on other women, proving beyond doubt that he had initiated the attack-and that her actions had been pure self-defense.

Lennon measuredly dismantled Fred's claims and rendered them collapsed under evidence and logic until the case was stripped bare.

The final verdict was decisive-Hannah's actions were ruled as legitimate self-defense. She bore no criminal responsibility.

Meanwhile, Rodney was sentenced to ten years in prison for a string of offenses, including rape.

The victory was absolute.

When Hannah stepped out of the courthouse,the sunlight hit her face with blinding intensity. She shook Lennon's hand, expressing her gratitude for his flawless defense.

As she turned to leave, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Claude stood at the base of the courthouse steps, clutching a large bouquet of yellow róses. His gaze clung to her like a shadow.

Hannah's expression hardened. She instinctively veered to the side, intending to avoid Claude entirely,but he stepped forward swiftly, blocking her path.

"Anna," Claude greeted, forcing a strained smile,"congratulations.You won."

She halted, her eyes cold, her voice edged with disdain. "Claude, what exactly are you congratulating me for? A case of narrowly escaping a rape attempt?This isn't a victory-it's the bare minimum of what justice should deliver. If even this had failed, then there would truly be something broken in this country."

Claude's smile faltered, awkward and brittle. "That's not what I meant... I'm just happy for you-"

"Claude," she cut in sharply, her tone distant and unyielding, "I told you before-I don't want further contact with you. If your fiancée learns you came here for me, won't she mind?"

The mention of Bonnie made his eyes flicker, unease rippling through his composed mask. Only last night,after too much wine and too much family pressure,he had given in-slept with Bonnie to satisfy the Hobbes family's demand that he continue the bloodline.

The act had left him hollow, as though he had betrayed Hannah herself. And so, earlier this morning, driven by restless unease and longing,he had discreetly sought out Hannah's schedule-only to uncover the string of ordeals she had recently endured. "My engagement with her was never about love," he murmured, his voice low and raw. "It was just a business alliance. Even if she finds out, it won't matter." He was completely unconcerned about Bonnie's feelings.

He looked at Hannah, his composure crumbling into something close to pleading. "Anna, please. I just want to talk to you for a while. Everything has been chaos lately-I don't know what to do."

He reached out, instinctvely trying to take her hand.

Hannah recoiled, her eyes narrowing. As his sleeve slipped back, faint red welts crossed his wrist-marks of a whip. Her tone sharpened. "Your parents did this?"

She knew the Hobbes family's discipline was as severe as it was archaic.

Claude lowered his gaze, his face vulnerable."Yes...They've been furious with me. Nothing I do is ever right."