My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 72

Her colleague’s eyes lit up, and she looked at Hannah expectantly. The investigation had hit a dead end with Hans. Without a lead from him, the case would drag on indefinitely.

Hannah feigned indecision, though she was secretly thrilled.

“Sometimes, young lady,” Hans said, walking past her, “friends are meant to be sold out.”

“Fine,” Hannah agreed. “But first, you talk to my boss. When you’re done, I’ll tell you who’s in the picture.”

Hans nodded, satisfied. The meeting was a success, and they were given the rest of the afternoon off.

Back at the hotel, Hannah stepped into the elevator and saw a familiar figure rush in just as the doors were closing. She retreated to the corner. There were other people in the elevator, so Sandra didn’t notice her.

Sandra was on her phone, her eyes red-rimmed as she spoke in a choked voice. “Mom, I’m your daughter! Are you really going to sell me off just to save the family? Have you no shame?”

“I am not marrying him! My life is not a bargaining chip! If someone has to marry him, you do it!”

She ended the call with a sob, tears welling in her eyes. As she looked up, she saw Hannah standing in the corner. The world seemed to fall silent. It was just the two of them.

Hannah looked at her with an expression of pure, innocent confusion, suppressing a triumphant smile. From the sounds of it, Hans had called Sandra’s mother, who had then called Sandra, leading to this meltdown. But what was Sandra doing at this hotel?

“What a coincidence,” Hannah said. “Are you staying here too?”

Sandra blinked, mumbling an incoherent reply. The elevator reached Hannah’s floor. She stepped out, but Sandra remained inside, pretending to go to a higher floor. Hannah paid her no mind and walked to her room.

The moment she opened the door, she saw him standing on the balcony. For a second, she considered calling security.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice like ice. She couldn't believe he had followed her to a new hotel.

“Why did you change hotels?” Lionel’s voice was cold. “Are you angry because I didn’t come back last night?”

Hannah kicked off her shoes and sat down at the vanity to remove her makeup. “When did you become so conceited?” she said airily. “This hotel is closer to my office. I can sleep in.”

He didn’t believe her, but he couldn't argue with her logic.

“Come in,” Lionel said, stepping aside. He watched as Hannah calmly poured three glasses of water, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. What was she up to?

“I heard your mother wants you to marry Mr. Temple. That seems awfully fast, even for a blind date,” Hannah said, sitting on the sofa and taking a sip of water.

Sandra bristled at her calm, almost condescending tone. The confidence, the status, the wealth—it should have all been hers! If it weren't for her, Hannah would still be a no-name lawyer from an orphanage, a nobody with no background and no future. Who was she to look at her like that?

Hannah lowered her gaze, watching Sandra’s anger build. Yes, that’s it. Get angry. Resent me. Hate me. Do whatever it takes to pull me down from my position as Mrs. Rosenberg.

Sandra took a deep breath and turned to Lionel, her expression shifting instantly. “Everything was fine until last night. Then, out of nowhere, my mother starts asking about the date, and today she’s demanding I get married. I think someone must have said something to her.”

Hannah said nothing, leaning back and scrolling through her phone.

Lionel watched Hannah’s relaxed posture, a seed of suspicion taking root in his mind.

“Lionel,” Sandra said, “do you think Mr. Temple could have said something to my mother? Is that why she’s so upset?”