Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 332

Yvonne waved to Monica, started the car, and slowly pulled out of the driveway, disappearing into the night.

She drove at a steady, unhurried pace.

Bennett sat silently in the passenger seat, his demeanor cool and distant. As streetlights flickered through the window, his handsome profile was cast in shifting shadows.

The car finally stopped in front of Cherry Apartments.

Outside vehicles weren't allowed inside the complex, so Yvonne had to park by the curb.

“We’re here. Have a good night, Mr. Thompson,” Yvonne said, turning to him after putting the car in park.

Bennett looked back at her but made no move to get out.

“Mr. Thompson…?” Yvonne’s voice was laced with confusion.

“Aren’t you going to share the tea? Or did you want it all for yourself?” Bennett asked suddenly.

Yvonne stared at him blankly.

Realization dawned, and she quickly turned, grabbed the tea bags from the back seat, and shoved them all toward him.

Bennett took only one bag, placing the rest back on the seat.

“This is enough. If I take it all, Mrs. Jones will think I’m bullying you,” he said. Holding the tea in one hand, he opened the door and got out with the other.

Yvonne watched from the driver’s seat as his figure vanished from sight before starting the car and driving away.

By the time she returned to her downtown apartment, it was already nine o'clock.

After removing her makeup, showering, and putting on a face mask, she finally lay down in bed.

She slept fitfully that night. It wasn't exactly insomnia, but she was jolted awake twice for no apparent reason.

Yvonne didn't have work the next day and had planned to sleep in, but she was roused early in the morning by the urgent ringing of her phone.

What she felt was a cold, stiff body.

Only then did Sandra notice that Hans' face was completely drained of color. He wasn’t breathing.

“Ah!” Sandra let out a piercing scream.

Yvonne quickly reached out to steady her.

Her time as a police officer had given Yvonne stronger nerves than Sandra. She walked to the bed and looked down at Hans.

The boy’s skin was a pale, bluish-white, and his body was rigid. He had clearly been dead for some time.

Yvonne’s expression turned grim, her gaze hardening as she turned to Hans' parents. “What… what exactly happened here?!”

With her hair disheveled, Tracy could only cover her mouth and sob.

Howard looked just as wretched, his clothes torn in places, but he managed to retain some composure and tearfully recounted the events.