There was just enough light from a few wall lamps to outline the tall figure of the man, but it wasn’t sufficient to illuminate the expression on his face.
She didn’t know how long he had been standing there, or how long she had been listening.
Hannah put away her phone and when she looked up again, she saw the man coming towards her.
He stopped two steps in front of her.
This ti, she could clearly see the expression on his face.
It certainly couldn’t be described as pleasant.
His eyes were thick with clouds, like a night sky awaiting a storm, an inexhaustible black ink, lurking behind it, a vibrant red could be faintly seen, filled with repression and deep sorrow.
His fists clenched by his side, but he remained silent.
Hannah didn’t intend to hide anything; she went straight to the point, "Has Mr. Qualls been standing there for a long ti?"
Jackie Qualls tried to curve his lips into a habitual smile, but it was futile. He stopped pretending and replied with a hint of self-mockery, "Not long."
Hannah looked around; there was a seat in the corner. She walked over to it.
Jackie Qualls followed her.
They sat facing each other.
Hannah couldn’t help but yawn, propped her head with her hand, and looked at the man across. "Since Mr. Qualls has heard everything, he should know that I have arranged to et soone here to enjoy the moon. Could you please leave for a little while?"
After thinking, she added, "When we are gone, you can stay on this rooftop as long as you want."
Her voice was casual and contained a hint of excitent akin to the eagerness of eting a lover.
The night wind blew, the last bit of warmth from Jackie Qualls’s palm disappeared and was replaced by a faint scent of alcohol which lingered around Hannah.
There was a special subtle intoxicating fragrance mixed with it.
Jackie Qualls forced himself to remain calm, despite the coldness that filled his heart, "How long have you been together?"
Hannah glanced at the tabletop sowhat impatiently, "Mr. Qualls, you’re not new to this. Can’t you calculate?"
Jackie Qualls didn’t reply but asked, "About half a year?"
Hannah pondered a mont, "Thereabouts."
Speaking of this, even Hannah couldn’t articulate exactly when their relationship began, but if they counted from when they first t, it was approximately that amount of ti.
Those simple words plunged the man’s heart into a deeper chill.
He looked at the woman in front of him, her eyes clear like an untouched lake, and he searched for sothing within them.
He wondered whether maybe she was being forced.
Or perhaps she was lying to him.
But there was nothing.
Everything was real.
Jackie Qualls averted his gaze and stared at the dim yellow light behind the girl. He lowered his voice, "Why does it have to be him?"
Hannah blinked her eyes; a small ray of light seed to break through, "You know him?"
It was both a question and a statent.
Perhaps even a hint of defensiveness.
For the first ti, he felt the coldness of the light; it almost suffocated him, "How could I not know him? But I never thought he would be involved with you."
Arnold Simmons.
Even in his previous life’s mories, that man was a formidable figure. George River and Jimmy Simmons had joined forces, but they could not gain any advantage over him.
Regrettably, he died early, and was unable to witness the man’s downfall. However, he knew that before this, the majority of the Simmons family’s assets were in that man’s possession. Every day, Jimmy Simmons spent his ti thinking about how to reclaim what was rightfully his.
Even after George River’s engagent to Tiffany Lynch.
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