Benson
Benson 131

Chapter 131 Reunion Under the Temporal Rift

Hannah shook her head, her voice filled with exhaustion and helplessness.

Under the dim light, her face looked particularly haggard, her closed eyes seeming to evade the harsh. reality.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Yvonne gently helped her mother sit up, her movements exceptionally tender, as if afraid that a little more force might hurt her.

The room was filled with a faint smell of disinfectant, and the night breeze through the half–open window brought a slight chill.

Her voice was gentle yet firm, “Just accompany me, alright?”

This was both a request and a yearning.

Yvonne knew that the moment to come was crucial for both of them.

Though Hannah was full of sorrow, seeing her daughter’s hopeful eyes, she leaned back on the headboard without further fuss.

Yvonne felt a pang of sadness; she knew this business trip had been a significant blow to her mother.

Especially after the incident involving her father, she had become even more sensitive and fragile.

Turning around, Yvonne took out the documents George had given her. The thick stack of papers felt particularly heavy in her hands,

As she flipped through each page, every sheet seemed to carry the weight of past memories and present reality.

With each turn of the page, Hannah’s expression changed from initial surprise to deep emotion.

Her eyes began to redden, as if years of grievances and bitterness were about to turn into tears.

In Yvonne’s memories, her father was always the gentle and resolute figure.

He did many good deeds but never flaunted them, teaching her and her brother to live humbly.

But she knew little about her father’s charitable work and, now seeing these documents filled her with pride and emotion, as if that warm, reassuring figure was once again before her.

“Mom, Dad was framed. You were the one he loved the most; you should know his character–best, right?”

Yvonne’s voice was gentle, but her gaze was firm as it locked onto her mother.

Hannah cried for a long time until her eyes were blurred with tears.

Finally, with a trembling voice, she began to talk about Mary.

but that wer

she…” her voice unwillingly accusatory, yet laced with deep pain and confusion.

Yvonne gently held her mother’s hand, a barely noticeable coldness in her eyes.

1 suspect she was stealing, and Dad caught her.”

This statement seemed like a calm judgment but was filled with endless accusation and determination.

Hannah was stunned, her eyes filled with confusion and disbelief.

Chapté 131 Renton Londen the Temporal Rift

“Dad was unguarded, and coupled with someone retaliating against him for meddling in the Taylor family’s affairs, things came together to cause the tragedy that year,”

Yvonne’s voice was low and firm, these speculations likely close to the truth.

“Mom, though many years have passed and many clues are gone, believe me, if she did it, I will make her pay and seek justice for Dad and Brother.”

Yvonne’s tone was full of resolve and strength.

Hearing her daughter’s determined words, Hannah felt a pang of sorrow, tears uncontrollably streaming down again.

“Yvonne, Mom is so useless, always relying on you.”

Yvonne chuckled softly, her laughter full of warmth and love, gently wiping away her mother’s tears.

“So, you should get better, so I can rely on you too, okay?”

Hannah nodded, her eyes showing a warmth and hope filled with expectation.

Meanwhile, Benson paced lightly in Yvonne’s room.

The room, though only a few square meters, was arranged like a small world full of stories.

The bed was covered with light yellow bed linens, the fabric delicate and neatly folded without a single wrinkle.

The walls were a soft cream color, adorned with various artworks, each piece carrying personal memories and artistic vibes.

These paintings complemented the room’s vintage wooden furniture, making the whole space rich in texture, as if every comer could tell a unique story.

Bookshelves were crammed with all sorts of books, from literary classics to modern technology, showing the room’s owner’s broad knowledge and diverse interests.

In a corner by the window, an antique bronze table lamp cast a soft yellow glow, adding a touch of warmth to the entire room.

Benson’s gaze finally rested on a particular painting on the wall.

This painting stood out among the countless others due to its striking surrealistic style, contrasting sharply with the more traditional decor of Yvonne’s room.

In the painting, beneath the neon–lit modern cityscape, an eagle soared in the blue sky above a densel forest.

The most striking feature was the thick white line running through the middle of the painting, like a rift splitting the scene in two, symbolizing a passage through time and space, making the picture both jarring and harmonious.

The painting stirred deep memories within Benson.

Years ago, when he was still sighted, a girl used to trace letters on his palm with her fingertips.

Her voice and laughter were always dreamlike.

“What if a desert and a whale were in the same picture?”

Her words planted a seed in his heart.

“Desert and penguin.” That was

eam. She told him she planned to become a surrealist artist.

Chopper 131 Reunion Under the Temporaliaft

3/T

Though he couldn’t see then, her words stayed in his heart.

He always harbored a longing for those surrealist paintings.

Over the years, he traveled far and wide seeking out related art exhibitions, hoping to replace traces of her and her world.

Unexpectedly, today in Yvonne’s room, the very painting she described appeared before him.

Benson’s heart raced, excitement welling up like a tide.

Could this be fate?

Yvonne, who had brought light to his dark world, was she the one he had been searching for?

Just then, the door opened, and Yvonne stepped in. Seeing Benson standing before the painting, his gaze was complex and urgent.

Benson nearly rushed to her, his movements filled with almost uncontrollable urgency.

He grabbed Yvonne’s shoulders tightly, the force causing her pain. His eyes were full of expectation, a complex mix of anxiety and hope.

His voice, trembling with excitement, asked, “Is the painting on the wall yours?”

a

Yvonne was startled by his sudden action and intense gaze, the pressure on her shoulders making her frown.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“Yes, that painting is from my college days.”

Yvonne’s voice was soft, tinged with a barely perceptible nostalgia, as if recalling those carefree youthful days.

Yvonne’s expression was vacant, her gaze distant, as if she had just returned from a faraway memory.

Her eyes revealed a deep sorrow, silently narrating past events.

Facing Benson’s pressing questions, her breathing was slightly uneven, each breath heavy and slow.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, almost palpable in its intensity.

The painting on the wall hung silently, like an unsolved mystery, waiting for its answer.

Benson’s voice rang out again, this time more determined, “Yvonne, look at me. Is this painting yours?”