Before Lionel could react, Hannah slapped his hands away.
Hearing the commotion, Cora rushed out. Seeing the scene, she marched forward, her voice sharp with anger. “What is wrong with you? He was worried sick when you didn’t come home, calling you over and over, and this is how you treat him?”
She jabbed a finger at Hannah. “Don’t think you can act like this just because he loves you. You need to learn some damn respect and stop being so—”
“Shut up!” Lionel roared, silencing her with a glacial glare. “This is none of your business. Get out!”
Cora froze, stunned. She had been defending him. Why was he yelling at her?
Lily quickly appeared and pulled her daughter away.
Hannah stood there, dripping water onto the floor, a puddle forming at her feet. Without a word, her eyes vacant, she walked past Lionel and headed upstairs.
As she brushed past him, Lionel caught a glimpse of her utterly broken expression and followed her up the stairs.
Hannah grabbed a set of dry clothes and went into the bathroom.
Just as the door was about to click shut, a large hand pressed against it, stopping it.
“Tell me what happened.”
Hannah’s face was a blank mask. Like a puppet, she lifted her hollow eyes to meet his but said nothing.
They stood there, staring at each other through the crack in the door, the only sound the furious drumming of the rain against the window.
Finally, Lionel dropped his hand and let her close the door.
Inside, steam filled the air. Hannah shed her wet clothes and stepped under the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her.
After what felt like an eternity, tears began to mingle with the water. Her body went limp, and she slid down the tiled wall, hugging her knees to her chest. She buried her face in her arms as a choked sob escaped her, then another, until she was weeping uncontrollably.
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