Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 284

Once the evidence was submitted, Lawrence made a trip to the sanatorium.

Ever since his conversation with Quentin, they had pulled Hannah out of the psychiatric hospital and settled her into a private, standalone villa at the sanatorium.

Hannah had her physical freedom back, but she spent every single day sitting on the bay window, hugging her knees and staring blankly into space. She refused treatment, refused to communicate, and had withered away into skin and bones, looking like a hollow shell of a person.

Jackson visited her every day, sitting with her and trying to talk to her.

Sometimes, Lawrence would bring Jasper along. Whenever the little boy was there, a subtle shift would ripple across Hannah's face. The emotion buried deep in her eyes was complex—so complex that Lawrence couldn't read or decipher it.

At first, Jasper was too scared to go near Hannah. But soon, remembering that this was his mother, his natural longing took over, and he bravely threw himself into her arms.

Every time that happened, Lawrence caught an unnervingly intense look in Jackson's eyes.

The profound grief, sorrow, and raw heartbreak radiating from him seemed to stem from more than just his love for Hannah. A sliver of it felt like it was directed at Jasper.

Whenever Jackson wasn't looking at Hannah, his eyes were practically glued to the little boy.

A bizarre, horrifying thought had sprouted in Lawrence's mind. So, when Jackson suggested letting Jasper stay for a few days to help Hannah heal from her trauma, Lawrence had hesitated—but ultimately agreed.

It was during those few days that Lawrence finally secured the critical piece of evidence.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Lawrence stared down at the folder in his hands. He remembered the night of the incident three years ago. Even with his family's vast resources, they hadn't been able to track down the man who assaulted Hannah.

First, there had been a massive blackout that knocked out most of the security cameras. The few on backup power hadn't captured a single usable frame.

Second, Hannah's mental state had completely shattered in the aftermath, and since she had been drinking, she couldn't provide a single helpful clue.

The police investigated for ages but never found the perpetrator.

It was as if the man who assaulted Hannah had simply vanished into thin air.

Both Jackson and Hannah tensed. Jackson recovered almost instantly, while Hannah buried her face deeper into her knees.

Lawrence's face betrayed absolutely no emotion. “Jasper, stay here with your mom for a bit. Your uncle and... Jackson need to have a quick chat.”

Jasper obediently nodded, trotting over to his mother's side.

Jackson's eyes drifted to the folder in Lawrence's hand. For some inexplicable reason, his heart skipped a beat. He pulled the door shut behind him and followed Lawrence out to the backyard.

They stood with their backs to the small white villa. The backyard was stark and colorless in the winter chill, and in the distance, the sky was bleeding into a dusky orange. The sun was setting.

This tranquil sanctuary, tucked quietly into the bustling city, was entirely owned by The Lane Family.

Lawrence lowered his head and lit a cigarette. The smoke was a little harsh, but the burn kept him sharp. Exhaling a gray cloud, he spoke in a deceptively light tone. “Jackson, three years ago... It was you, wasn't it?”

A violent tremor rocked Jackson to his core. His head snapped up, the color draining from his face until he was ghost-white. The accusation had come so entirely out of nowhere that his brain short-circuited. And in that fatal fraction of a second of hesitation, he knew there was no hiding it anymore.