Hannah remained silent for a long time.
Arnold Simmons chuckled lightly; the laugh, however, carried a hint of chilling cold. He extended his hand, cupping the delicate face in his arms, his dark eyes solemnly remarked, "Why aren't you speaking?"
Hannah bit her lip and looked up at the figure in front of her, wanting to turn away but unable to. She stammered, "What do you want me to say?"
She paused then added with a hint of defiant anger, "Mr. Simmons, with all your vast resources, I presume you already know everything. Why bother asking me? Besides, even if I said something, there's a high chance that you wouldn't believe it."
The surroundings were quiet. Arnold was irritated, but his face remained impassive. He initially saw innocence and purity in the young girl's expressive eyes, like a clean, dust-free mirror where one glance reveals what lies at the bottom.
"I thought I understood you," he said. "I want to hear it from you."
