Chapter 1075

Heather ascended the stairs while Hannah carried the empty bowl to the kitchen. She turned on the tap and cleaned the bowl thoroughly with a cloth, taking her time. Afterward, she returned it to the cabinet, cast one last glance around the kitchen, and walked to her small bedroom.

Hannah’s basement bedroom was dark and quiet, a familiar environment. She sat in a sunlit corner, the warmth reaching only a small area near her toes. She could feel the sun’s warmth if she stretched her feet, but remained seated, knees bent, toes curled. She was so close to the sun yet hesitated to reach for it.

Her arms encircled her knees, one hand toying with a distorted ring—her ring, though altered. Nothing truly belonged to her, neither person nor possession. She shouldn't have hoped, shouldn't have been greedy, but she was human. How could a human be devoid of desire?

Upstairs, Heather entered her room, closed the door, and drew the curtains. From her pocket, she retrieved a box, revealing a book within. Excitement surged; her heart pounded.

She wanted to open it immediately, but nervous tremors shook her as her fingertips brushed the cover. She had longed for this; now it was hers. The joy was overwhelming.

As she greedily devoured the words and pictures, she was impressed by the unfamiliar fighting stances. Alexander had claimed such skills didn't exist—the hypocrite!

Heather scoffed, her hands already practicing the stances from the top-secret kickboxing handbook. Lost in her practice, her phone rang. She tried to ignore it, but the persistent caller finally broke through her concentration. "Hello!" she answered.

"Heather, I've found it. I have what you need," Ralph said smugly.

Recognizing his voice, she remembered their agreement. A smirk played on her lips. "Really?" she mocked.

"Aren't you happy?" His tone betrayed his surprise at her lack of enthusiasm. She had changed, and he was intrigued. "Of course, I'm happy! So… when do I get it?"

"Of course, but not now. We haven't settled our previous discussion. Let's meet and talk."

He would use this leverage to renegotiate. He wouldn't simply hand it over. He'd ensure a favorable offer.

"Fine. How do you propose we do this?" Her gaze remained fixed on the book.

"Tonight, 7 p.m., at the hotel. I have a suite; it's safe," Ralph said confidently, adding quickly, "This book is sensitive; we need a secure place to discuss our plans."