Chapter 259 Why I Came to This Place?
"Ravenwood Manor was badly damaged in the earthquake," he said. "It's still being repaired, and the work will take some time. So... we'll have to stay at the old estate for now."
Alexander fell silent.
His smile gradually faded as he stood there, caught in thought.
Mark's heart hammered in his chest, palms beginning to sweat.
He worried that Alexander might suddenly remember things he shouldn't remember.
After a long moment, Alexander finally turned and gave Mark an easy smile.
"You've kept the grounds well," he said.
Mark blinked, still processing this, when Alexander had already turned to the empty space beside him, giving instructions to the air as naturally as breathing.
"Liam, have all my files moved here this afternoon. I'll be working from here for a while so I can stay close to my wife and daughter."
Then he took hold of that invisible hand and strode through the front door.
Mark exhaled slowly, his tense shoulders finally dropping.
He followed, and when he pushed open the door to the living room, Della was already waiting.
Mark nodded at her.
Della's shoulders visibly relaxed. She took a deep breath, watching Alexander settle into the living room.
He was already talking softly to the empty air beside him.
Della's eyes quietly reddened.
She moved closer to Mark and asked in a hushed voice, "Has Mr. Hamilton... really lost his mind? The things from before... he doesn't remember any of it?"
Mark shook his head. "No, he remembers. But he's treating reality as a dream, and the dream as reality... He can't tell which side is real anymore."
Della's lips trembled.
"In a way... this is mercy," Mark added quietly.
"At least in his world, he doesn't have to carry all that pain anymore. This way... he can keep living."
Della was silent for a long time, her gaze inevitably drawn to Alexander's calm, gentle profile.
She watched him talk to the air, watched him reach out to smooth hair that didn't exist.
"But..." Della's voice wavered.
"Mr. Hamilton was barely holding on before. If one day he suddenly realizes the truth, realizes that all of this is fake, realizes that Mrs. Hamilton really is... gone..."
She didn't finish, but Mark understood her fear.
That would be a collapse more complete than death itself.
Mark was quiet for a long time before finally shaking his head helplessly.
"I don't know what will happen. I can only... keep the truth from him as long as possible. As long as he can hold on, I won't risk letting him know. Otherwise I'm afraid he'll end up like Mrs. Hamilton... walking down that same dead-end road."
Della said nothing more.
She knew Mark was right, and understood that no amount of worry could change their situation.
She took a deep breath, pushed down the ache in her chest, then walked into the living room with a polite smile.
"Mr. Hamilton, the pears poached in red wine are ready. Would you like some?"
Alexander looked up at her.
"Who are you?" he asked.
Della froze, then barely managed to keep her composure. "Mr. Hamilton, I'm Della. Kenna and I have been taking care of Mrs. Hamilton."
Alexander frowned, looking even more confused.
"How strange," he muttered. "I was only in the hospital for a few days, and suddenly there are all these new faces around me."
The moment those words fell, Mark and Della both tensed.
Neither dared speak, afraid one wrong word might set him off.
But after a moment, Alexander looked up again, toward the empty air in front of the coffee table.
He listened, his expression first puzzled, then gradually clearing, and finally breaking into a smile as he nodded.
"I see," he said softly to the air.
"You're exhausted. You really shouldn't be carrying everything alone anymore. Then let's have Della stay. Let her help look after Caroline... and you."
He seemed to be responding to an inaudible voice, nodding again. "I'll do whatever you say."
Mark and Della both exhaled in relief.
Alexander didn't notice. He'd already resumed his quiet conversation with that phantom presence.
That afternoon, Mark quietly arranged to have all the files moved over.
He carried the thick stack of folders into the study.
"Mr. Hamilton, these are the files Liam asked me to bring. He said you need to review them as soon as possible."
Alexander nodded, set down his teacup, walked to the desk and sat down, opening the files with practiced ease.
The way he worked was almost exactly like his old self.
Mark stood to the side, watching, a wave of complicated emotions rising in his chest.
Even though he'd lost his grip on reality, even though his world had become a chaos of overlapping illusions, he still remembered his habits, remembered his role.
Mark felt that Alexander had made many mistakes, hurt many people, done things that couldn't be undone.
But he'd always been a capable boss.
Mark couldn't help but sigh softly.
Suddenly, Alexander's movements stopped.
The pen tip hovered above a financial report, not falling. His brow gradually furrowed.
"Mark." He tapped the document.
"What's this expense?"
Mark's heart lurched. He quickly stepped forward to look.
Alexander's finger rested on a large fixed expense that was transferred out monthly, with "business collaboration" noted in the remarks column.
Mark's breathing stopped.
He knew what this was.
After Isabella left with the money, this was the agreement Alexander had reached with Damon.
Besides the initial investment, the Hamilton Group would inject a fixed amount of capital into the Neville Group each month, keeping it operational.
It was Alexander's promise to Damon, and also his way of... atoning to Caroline. He'd wanted to use this to compensate Caroline for everything she'd lost over the years.
But before he could tell Caroline about the Neville Group's change of ownership, Caroline was already gone.
Now, that reason could never be spoken.
Mark opened his mouth, desperately searching for a reasonable explanation, but couldn't find one.
Alexander didn't notice his discomfort. He reviewed the fund details and nodded thoughtfully.
"So it's funding for the Nevilles," he said to himself.
"The Nevilles are Caroline's family. It makes sense to have business dealings with them. However..."