She clutched her chest and while she bent to adjust her skirt, a pair of blue high heels she wore beca visible.
The shoes were adorned with rhinestones, and under the light, they sowhat resembled glass slippers.
By the ti Jimmy Simmons realized it, he had already bent over and voluntarily adjusted her skirt for her.
Hannah straightened up, a smile hanging on her lips, "My dear nephew, how co you have ti to visit today, are you here to ask for New Year’s money?"
As the year-end approached, the festive atmosphere was not extrely strong, but many places had already started hanging up red lanterns.
Jimmy had seen them on his way here.
He didn’t feel the bustle, only a sense of bleakness, and now hearing her light-hearted tease, a sense of belonging unexpectedly developed in his heart.
He stood up and finally voiced that question, "Hannah Winter, you knew before, right?"
Hannah looked up at him.
Jimmy rarely adjusted his expression, his tone carrying a hint of accusation.
She did not speak, but instead raised her hand and pointed towards a stool in the corner, "Grab a stool and sit down, always looking up at you, I get very tired."
An overly familiar phrase.
It was as if soone had said the sa to him before.
Jimmy’s gaze paused slightly, and it took him a while to gather himself.
He walked to the corner, looking at a small stool casually placed on the floor.
After thinking, he still didn’t pick it up, but turned and sat on the sofa instead.
Hannah watched his movents and smiled, asking him, "The ’before’ you ntioned, how long ago are we talking about?"
Jimmy looked into her eyes, "Did you know when I lost my mory?"
His tone was almost affirmative, as there was none of his forr feigned laziness.
Hannah shook her head without a hint of hesitation, "I didn’t know you."
After she spoke, she turned to the mirror and began removing the jewelry she was wearing, first the earrings, then the bracelet.
Until a photograph was placed in front of her.
A fairly old photo, taken inside a simple house, with quite a few filming devices around.
The devices were focused on just two people.
One was Hannah, the other had an unclear face, with ssy hair and ragged clothes.
Jimmy’s gaze stayed fixed, "Since you say you didn’t know , why don’t you tell , who is the person in this photo?"
The photo had been obtained from a forr program staff mber.
Over the years, he had never given up on investigating his disappearance.
Initially, he only wanted to find damning evidence against Arnold Simmons, but unexpectedly, he uncovered other matters.
Hannah glanced at it briefly before looking away, introducing, "That’s just a pitiable little scavenger living off picking up trash."
As she said this, she paused for a mont, then looked up to et Jimmy’s eyes with a smile, "Why, do you know him?"
Jimmy couldn’t tell whether Hannah was acting or genuinely didn’t understand.
So he said directly, "This person, it’s ."
Hannah still appeared very calm, even evoking a senior’s care, "It seems the ti when you lost your mory wasn’t easy, must have been quite tough living from picking trash, huh?"
Jimmy remained silent, just quietly looking at Hannah’s profile.
Actually, he hadn’t recalled anything.
But he could still recognize that the person in the photo was himself.
The person with disheveled hair and even mud on his fingers was himself.
He simply couldn’t imagine his neat-freak self having such a disheveled day, but the investigation material thereafter left him no room for doubt.
There were no additional photos, only the recollections of others.
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