Three Years Later, He Came Back Begging novel Chapter 288

With the truth finally out in the open, the suffocating darkness that had trapped Jackson for years seemed to lift slightly.

He was ready to accept whatever punishment came his way. His only lingering concern was her.

"She wasn't pretending in the beginning, and she didn't set out to deceive you. Over the years, her condition fluctuated. You weren't around enough to see it, but she would relapse abruptly and then snap out of it. Her mind is a fractured mess. She could shatter entirely at any second."

A bitter edge crept into his voice. "And when we returned, seeing you and Bonnie... it pushed her over the edge. Slashing her wrists wasn't a stunt. I know she's done terrible things, but please, she's family. Can't you forgive her, just for the sake of Jeniffer saving your life?"

Jackson couldn't stomach the thought of her rotting in a psychiatric ward or spending years behind bars. The damage was already done. Lawrence and Bonnie were history. Hannah had paid a steep price, too—she had lost her career on stage, her reputation, everything. Why insist on crucifying her now?

What would it achieve?

What could it possibly change?

He knew it was monstrously selfish, but he couldn't stand by and watch her suffer.

"Let me take the fall for her," he begged. "Please."

Lawrence's voice was so detached it hardly sounded like his own. "I've already handed the evidence to the authorities. The one who committed the crime does the time. If she isn't insane, she doesn't belong in a clinic. She belongs in a cell. It's time she faced the consequences."

He had lost everything that mattered to him. And because he had nothing left to lose, he absolutely refused to back down an inch further.

Jackson's heart plummeted into his stomach.

Turning on his heel, Lawrence headed inside to wait for the police. As he pulled open the glass door to the patio, his gaze caught on a stray, semi-circular wooden block resting near his shoe.

The blaring of car horns echoed endlessly through the canyon of skyscrapers.

Drenched in sweat and fueled by panic, Jackson screamed her name, darting frantically toward the north intersection.

Lawrence took off to the south, his eyes scanning the chaotic crowds. A block down, he spotted them. Hannah was clutching the boy's hand, wandering aimlessly right into the middle of the snarled traffic.

He couldn't even tell if this was genuine madness or just another sick theatrical stunt to force his hand.

Cars swerved, horns blared in outrage, and drivers rolled down their windows to hurl vicious insults at the crazy woman dragging a toddler through an active intersection.

She barely seemed to register the abuse. Glancing back with hollow, vacant eyes, she looked completely empty. A gaping hole had ripped open in her chest, letting all the biting chill of the Cabinda winds pour right into her soul.