Upstairs, in the mezzanine living room, Hannah and Samuel sat on the sofa, listening to the conversation below.
Because of Cherry's sensitive role, she couldn't join them, as it would risk blowing her cover.
Hannah still needed Cherry to stay by Lionel's side for a while longer.
However, to keep her in the loop, Samuel had a special listening device clipped to his collar.
Cherry was at home, listening in on the whole thing.
“The people who sent Hannah that letter, the ones who said they knew where to find her mother—that was you, wasn't it?”
Lionel sat down, getting straight to the point without any preamble.
After hearing the question, Quennel didn't answer right away. Instead, he just stared at him with a bewildered expression.
His eyes were filled with confusion and disbelief, as if he were looking at a complete moron.
After a long moment, Quennel finally sighed deeply and spoke.
“These past few years with you must have been so difficult for Hannah. Now I finally understand what it’s like. To be so casually accused by you like this… it’s truly disgusting.”
Hearing him deflect instead of giving a straight answer, Lionel’s right hand clenched into a fist, and he slammed it on the table.
“Quennel, I’m talking to you about something important. Stop changing the subject and answer my question, you hear me?”
He glared at Quennel, his eyes wide with fury, trying to detect any flicker of emotion on his face.
But it was a wasted effort. Quennel’s expression remained unchanged, showing no trace of fear or panic. He even wore a faint smile as he met Lionel’s gaze.

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