My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 332

“Yes, that’s right!” Sandra said, her voice rising with forced enthusiasm.

“I’m the one who played the video. Jason came to me as soon as he heard about your party, saying he was going to ruin you by playing the rape video. He wanted everyone to think you’d been assaulted.”

She continued her elaborate lie, “I told him he couldn’t do something so horrible, but he said he’d already found someone to play it and sent them the file. I panicked and immediately found the technicians and had them swap it with a different video. I knew you didn’t like talking about your past, but I was afraid Mr. and Mrs. Temple Sr. wouldn't know the truth, so I chose the one showing the abuse you suffered.”

Hannah listened to the nonsensical tirade, a tangled mess of contradictions that fell apart with the slightest scrutiny. Liars, she thought, could never keep their stories straight.

“How strange, Ms. Woods,” Hannah said coolly. “If you knew what Mr. Cooper was planning, why didn’t you just tell me? Instead, you swapped the videos. You don’t actually think you did a good thing, do you?”

Hannah rose from her seat and walked over to Sandra’s wheelchair. She gripped the handles, leaning down slowly until her face was inches from Sandra’s, her dark eyes boring into her.

“And now you’ve come here today to take credit? You want me to thank you for revealing my tragic past to my grandparents so they’ll shower me with even more affection?”

Sandra swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as a cold dread washed over her. Hannah’s words were terrifyingly accurate, as if she could see right through the entire scheme.

Her breathing grew heavy, and she clenched her jaw. “It’s not about taking credit. I just wanted to make sure Jason was caught. A petty man like him still has plenty of videos of you. It would be terrible for your reputation if he decided to post one of them online.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Hannah said, straightening up. “But you have my videos, too, don’t you?”

She pulled a phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and a moment later, Sandra’s phone began to ring.

Confused, Sandra pulled it out and stared at the screen, her eyes widening in horror.

Jason kicked her several more times before kneeling down, grabbing her by the collar, and slapping her repeatedly across the face.

“You bitch! You actually have the nerve to show your face here!” he screamed. “You’re the one who came to me for those videos! I asked you what you were doing, and you only told me after the fact! If I had known what you were planning, I never would have given them to you!”

He continued his rant, his voice raw with fury.

“And when the wrong video played, you had the audacity to take all the credit for ‘saving’ her! Sandra, I was a damn fool to ever trust you! You told me to go to the airport, and they were waiting for me the second I arrived. You set me up, didn’t you!”

The slaps rained down, one after another, giving Sandra no chance to explain. Every time she opened her mouth, another blow sent her head spinning, forcing the words back down her throat.