Chapter 292 Earring Stud

Chapter 292 Earring Stud

Ethan was jolted awake by the sunlight.

The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a beam of light squeezed through the gap, landing right on his eyes.

He instinctively raised his hand to block it. His head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it—the pain was intense.

He rolled over and reached out to the side.

Empty.

The sheets were cold, with no trace of body warmth.

He snapped his eyes open and sat up.

The room was unfamiliar—not his hotel room, not Hannah's, but a different one.

On the nightstand sat a glass of water that had gone completely cold, next to his phone and wallet.

His clothes were neatly folded on the chair at the foot of the bed.

His memory came in fragments—he'd been drinking, went to Hannah's room, she opened the door, she steadied him, and then...

Then he couldn't remember.

But there was a faint scent on the pillow. He recognized it—the shampoo Hannah used.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Hannah's number.

Turned off. He tried again. Still off.

He got out of bed, threw on his clothes, and pushed the door open.

The hallway was quiet, the carpet thick and soundless underfoot.

He walked to the front desk. The receptionist on duty was a local girl who averted her eyes when she saw him.

"Who booked the room I stayed in last night?"

She looked down and checked the computer.

"Sir, you booked it yourself. You were drunk yesterday and came alone."

Ethan stared at her. "Alone?"

"Yes."

Ethan didn't press further. He turned and walked away. He knew she was lying.

He remembered when Hannah steadied him—her body was cool, her hair brushed against his face, tickling.

He also remembered she cried, her tears falling onto his hair, warm.

That wasn't a dream.

He walked to the lobby and called Ruben.

It rang for a long time before someone picked up.

"Mr. Lawson?" Ruben's voice was calm.

"Where's Hannah?"

Ruben was silent for a moment. "She took a car to the next city last night. Caught a flight this morning—she should be back in the country by now."

Ethan gripped his phone, his knuckles turning white. "She told you that?"

"Yes."

Ethan clenched his jaw and hung up.

He slumped onto a sofa in the hotel lobby, hands pressed against his forehead.

His head hurt, his stomach hurt, everything hurt.

But he didn't care about that.

Only one thing occupied his mind—she left again.

He thought she'd stayed last night, thought she'd finally stopped running.

But she left, while he was asleep, without even saying goodbye.

He looked down and saw a strand of hair on his shirt cuff.

He picked it up and held it to the light. It had to be Hannah's.

He reached into his pocket for his phone and felt something hard.

He pulled it out. An earring.

Platinum, small, delicate.

Hannah had been wearing this earring yesterday.

He clutched the earring, his knuckles white.

He looked up at the ceiling and laughed.

He muttered to himself, "Hannah, I actually care about you. And you just walked out like I was something you could use once and toss away. I'm not letting you disappear on me."

Hannah had just gotten off the plane when she spotted Daryl's assistant, Gage.

He stood at the arrivals gate in a dark suit, his expression serious.

"Gage, what are you doing here?" Hannah looked at him, puzzled.

"Mr. Daryl Harvey is in Silverlight City. He's waiting for you." Gage took her luggage without another word.

Hannah got in the car and leaned back against the seat.

Gage turned around from the passenger seat, looking at her with hesitation.

"Just say it." Hannah looked up at him.

"The online comments about you aren't good right now. Ember leaked information saying you used the Harvey family's influence to crush competitors."

Gage paused. "The Harvey family, when it was in Manuel's hands, did some shady things."

"Now a lot of old dirt is being dug up—stuff from over ten years ago is being blamed on you."

Hannah said nothing.

She took out her phone and opened the news.

#Hannah Uses Harvey Family Power to Crush Rivals#

The comments section was full of criticism.

[The stuff Manuel did back then is being blamed on her now?]

[When she took over Harvey Corporation, Manuel was already in prison. What does it have to do with her?]

[Rich people are all the same—none of them are any good!]

Some defended her, but more people just piled on.

Hannah put down her phone and closed her eyes. She wasn't surprised.

Ember wouldn't let this go—she'd known that all along.

She just hadn't expected her to dig up Manuel's old scandals.

What did things from over ten years ago have to do with her?

But online commenters didn't care about that.

They only read headlines, only looked at trending topics, only saw what others were criticizing and joined in.

Daryl was waiting for her in a hotel suite.

He sat in his wheelchair, looking better than the last time she'd seen him, though clear exhaustion showed in his eyes.

Hannah walked in and sat across from him.

"Grandpa, what brings you here?"

Daryl looked at her. "How do you plan to handle what's happening online?"

"I'll take care of it. Your health isn't good—just focus on resting." Hannah answered calmly.

Daryl was silent for a moment.

He looked at Hannah, at that face so similar to her father's.

He remembered when Henry was young—he was the same way, shouldering everything himself, never letting him worry.

"The Harvey family is yours to run from now on." He spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"Do what you think is best. I'm planning to retire to the next city. I'm staying out of it."

"Don't worry, I'll handle everything." Hannah nodded slightly.

She understood—Daryl was handing the Harvey family over to her completely.

Back at the company, Sophia was already waiting at the door.

She looked worried, rushing up as soon as she saw Hannah.

"Hannah, we've suppressed some of the public opinion, but the pressure is too much right now."

"The police have also sent people to investigate Manuel's old cases."

"Got it." Hannah walked over and sat on the sofa.

Sophia panicked. "Got it? That's all you have to say? What are we going to do?"

Hannah set her bag on the table, turned around, and looked at Sophia.

"When someone hands me such perfect ammunition, it would be a waste not to use it."

Sophia froze. "What ammunition?"

Hannah didn't answer. She took out her phone and dialed a number.

"Shirley, I need a favor."