Chapter 1133 Wronged
Facing Hannah's distress, Lisa responded with indifference and a cold sneer. "With so many women around, why'd he pick you? Maybe you should look at yourself. I think you must be acting inappropriately, giving people the wrong impression that you're easy."
Hannah's heart shattered. She had been taken advantage of, and her mother, without asking any questions, blamed her entirely.
The crowd around them grew larger. Because of the man's words and Lisa's lack of support, everyone believed it was Hannah's fault, that she had deliberately seduced the man.
"Even her own mother doesn't believe her. I bet that drunk guy was telling the truth!"
"Probably not the first time. That's why her dad left in shame, and her mom doesn't believe her."
"This girl seemed so well-behaved, but who knew she was like this?"
"Yeah! She was always so quiet. I never thought she'd be out there seducing men."
"She's so young and already using her body to make money. What will she be like in the future?"
"Exactly! I need to warn my son and husband to stay away from her. If she seduces them, it will be terrible."
"Don't worry. With her plain face, your husband and son won't be interested."
Then another person chimed in.
"That's not necessarily true. No man can resist a woman who throws herself at him. Better safe than sorry. If your husband gets seduced, there won't be any chance to regret it."
"You're right! No man would refuse a woman who comes to him. It's better to be cautious."
Listening to the degrading comments around her, Hannah felt her cheeks burn with pain, the hurt spreading from her heart through her veins to her entire body. Her mother watched coldly, without any intention of defending her. The man who had taken advantage of her looked at her smugly, while his wife stood with her arms crossed, ready to fight.
Hannah's heart ached with resentment and sorrow. Unable to bear the accusations and contemptuous looks any longer, she ran away, leaving her backpack behind. From that day on, she became infamous in the area. Everyone knew about her supposed promiscuity, her alleged selling of her body for money, and her supposed habit of seducing men. No matter where she went, people pointed fingers at her, openly expressing their disdain and discussing her without any restraint.
She didn't know how she managed to survive. After that, she became silent and withdrawn, avoiding conversation. She remembered everything, those memories etched into her bones, reliving each scene again and again. Even now, she seemed to hear the neighbors' mocking voices.
"Little slut..."
"Whore..."
These labels stuck to her for a long time, and her mother never thought to defend her.
"I'm not, I'm not! Why? Why don't you believe me? Why? I'm not!"
Lying in the hospital bed, Hannah clutched the sheets tightly, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head repeatedly, desperate to explain, to make everyone believe her. But no one listened.
Charles had been worried about her. Hearing her voice, he jumped up from the couch and rushed to her bedside. Hannah was crying bitterly, her tears soaking the pillow. Charles held her hand tightly, trying to understand her murmurs. He leaned closer to hear her better.
"Why? Why don't you like me?"
"Why don't you believe me?"
"I'm not!"
"I'm not!"
"Why do you treat me like this? Why?"
"Believe me, it's really not me, it's not me!"
"I feel so awful, Mom, I feel so awful!"
Charles finally understood her words, but they were fragmented, making it hard to piece together.
His handsome face furrowed in concern as he gently wiped her tears. But the more he wiped, the more her tears fell. His heart ached, wishing he could take her pain away.
He softly stroked her face, his voice gentle, "Hannah, did you have a nightmare? Did you dream about something unpleasant? Is this the heartache the doctor mentioned? Tell me, what is it? I'll help you, Hannah."
But Hannah couldn't hear him. She continued to murmur, clutching the sheets so tightly they were misshapen. Her face was covered in sweat, her hair sticking to her skin.
Worried she might hurt herself, Charles carefully pulled the sheets from her grip and held her hand, hoping she would feel his warmth and concern.
In her dream, Hannah gripped Charles's hand tightly, her nails digging into his palm. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
What had Hannah gone through to be in such agony, even in her dreams? He felt helpless, unable to protect her from her suffering.
The doctor had mentioned mental illness, but what was it exactly? Charles stayed by Hannah's side, talking to her, comforting her until she finally calmed down, her grip on his hand loosening, her furrowed brow relaxing.
Seeing her pale face and sweat-soaked hair, Charles's heart ached. He went to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and gently cleaned her up.
After her episode, Charles couldn't sleep. He sat by her bed, holding her hand, watching her closely, afraid she might have another nightmare. Fortunately, Hannah remained calm for the rest of the night.
The next morning, Lassie, Carter, and Stella arrived early. They found Charles, looking exhausted, wiping Hannah's face with warm water. His eyes were dark and tired, his spirit drained.
Lassie immediately expressed concern, "Charles, did you stay up all night again? You can't keep doing this. Your body won't hold up!"
When Hannah was in the ICU, he had stayed up night after night. He had lost a lot of weight, his face pale, looking even more worn out than Hannah's.
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