Steeling herself, Elena masked her emotions behind a cold smile. "Who put you up to this? I've never seen either of you before in my life."
"Elena, how can you say you don't know me? I'm Hank—Hank James. We were together five years ago. We had Olly. If Olly hadn't missed you so much, and if he had the strength to live longer, I would never have brought him here or dragged you into our mess."
Hank's performance looked disturbingly convincing. There was nothing fake in his expression—he even let out a wheezing cough that made him seem weak, almost pitiable. "All I want is for you to take care of Olly once I'm gone."
His words, full of sorrow and sacrifice, pulled at the heartstrings of everyone in the room. He portrayed himself as a selfless, loving father. Standing before Elena, he seemed humble and filled with regret—painting the image of a man who cherished her, listened to her, and had no wish to pull her into his suffering.
