Caught off guard, Hannah backpedaled a bit.
“Mr. Mitchell, what are you doing here?”
Holding her gaze with his penetrating eyes, Bryson said, “I tried reaching you, but you didn’t answer your phone or respond to my messages. I got concerned.”
“Calls?”
Fumbling in her bag, Hannah pulled out her phone, only to find it had shut down due to a depleted battery. She held it up, somewhat apologetically.
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“Sorry, my phone ran out of battery. I didn’t catch your calls.”
“And what about the messages?”
She had seen them but had chosen not to respond.
Her face distorted with slight discomfort.
“I… was tied up today.
So I forgot to get back to you.”
Bryson, noticing her difficulty in formulating a lie, narrowed his eyes but decided not to press the matter.
“Fine, you should go home now.”
As Hannah’s hand grazed the entry gate, she turned and saw Bryson, framed by moonlight, silently observing her.
She parted her lips, but ultimately, the words she had in mind remained unspoken.
“I’ll head in now, Mr. Mitchell.”
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A gate now divided the space between them.
“Hannah.” She heard him say, halting her steps.
She turned around, peering at Bryson who stood beyond the gate. His expression was unclear from her perspective.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Waving his hand as a goodbye, Bryson turned and slid into his car.
The vehicle pulled away, leaving Hannah rooted to the spot, her eyes tracking the disappearing car. It took her a considerable time before she finally retreated into her residential area.
Morning broke with an unexpected start.
Violent knocking nearly splintered Hannah’s front door, and the doorbell rang incessantly.