My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 200

In that instant, the world seemed to fall silent.

Lionel couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears. All he could see was Hannah’s face, a canvas of betrayal and hatred.

She took a deep breath, her heart trembling with each beat, each one a fresh, searing pain.

“You didn’t know. But Sandra did. She knew everything. She even knew what happened to me there. That’s why she manipulated you into taking me back!”

She backed away from him, her voice cracking as she ripped open the wounds she had kept hidden for so long.

“She did it on purpose! Do you think the reason I never went back was because I’m some ungrateful, heartless bitch?”

“It’s because I escaped! I ran away because I couldn’t take the abuse from Jason and the others anymore! I ran out into a snowstorm, in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. I didn’t even have a decent pair of shoes!”

“I was in a worse state than the day I first met you! And you… you took me back there! Are you even human, Lionel? I’m asking you, are you even human?”

The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down her face like pearls from a broken string. She bit her lip, her body shaking with ragged, deep breaths.

“The dog in that drawing, Rex… Jason beat him to death!”

The memory of Rex’s death shattered her completely. She sobbed, stumbling backward until she hit the desk, her hands flying out to steady herself.

“The night I ran away, Rex led the way. He showed me a hole in the fence. But Jason and the others chased after us. To protect me, Rex ran back and bit his leg.”

“And Jason… he took a club, and he hit him, again and again, smashing it against his head. Do you know what I saw?”

Her vision was blurred by tears. She couldn’t make out his expression.

“He burned me with a cigarette because I wouldn’t take my clothes off for him.”

“And this,” she said, her finger tracing a line on her back, “is from when he whipped me.”

She pointed to each scar, one by one, recounting the story behind each one, the memories as fresh as if they had happened yesterday.

“The kids at the orphanage… they’re not like other kids. They grow up fast. They know they don’t have parents. They learn how to read people, how to suck up to the adults, so they can get adopted by a rich family.”

“They knew Jason hated me, so they all ganged up on me. They gave me their leftovers, spat in my food, stole things and framed me for it. They would catch snakes and frogs and throw them on my bed. They stole my food and my clothes.”

Her voice trailed off. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, only a series of silent, broken laughs.

She sank to the floor, her back against the desk, and picked up her discarded shirt, using it to wipe away her tears as she choked on her sobs.