C472 Harris Family Is Reborn

Charlie stared at Hanna for a moment before finally asking, “So, what job do you want me to do?” Hanna remained silent for a few seconds. Then she looked at Charlie and finally gave her the answer. “I want you to post this image.” Charlie frowned. “What do you want me to say?” Hanna pointed toward the photograph on the table. “Say something about justice being done to Willy Harris. Say that the people responsible for his death may think they have ended the Harris family, but they are wrong. Willy’s death has only motivated everyone. The Harris family will not end.” Charlie froze. “Ann…” she began, her voice filled with frustration. “Is this still about revenge for my uncle? Because, honestly, this feels like something much more personal to you than it does to me.” Hanna slowly turned toward her. “What do you mean?” Charlie shook her head. “You know exactly what I mean.” Hanna said nothing. “My husband and I were living happily together,” Charlie continued. “We had problems like every married couple, but we understood each other. We loved each other. We had a life.” Her voice began to tremble. “But look at what you made me do.” Hanna watched her without interrupting. “You made me kill my own husband.”

Charlie swallowed hard. “I could have divorced him. I could have walked away from the marriage. I had other choices. But you didn't want that. You wanted him gone.” She looked directly into Hanna’s eyes. “And then you killed an innocent child right in front of everyone.” Hanna's expression remained calm. “And now,” Charlie continued, “you want me to make a joke out of their sorrow? Their child is dead, Ann. They are grieving. And you want me to post a picture from his funeral and turn their pain into another message of revenge?” Hanna slowly stood. “Charlie, you are still weak.” Charlie stared at her. “Killing your husband didn't make you strong. It only showed me how easily you can be controlled by your emotions.” Charlie looked away. Hanna stepped closer. “You said I am making a joke out of their sorrow?” She pointed toward the photograph. “Did they take your sorrow seriously?” Charlie remained silent. “The videos were everywhere. The police statement was everywhere. Everyone knew your uncle had surrendered.” Hanna's voice became colder. “And yet, they showed him no mercy. They killed him.”

Charlie wanted to respond, but Hanna continued. “Now you are worried about someone else's sorrow?” Charlie was speechless. She wanted to argue. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to tell Hanna that she had gone too far. But deep down, some of the things Hanna had said were true. Willy had surrendered, and Charlie still believed his death had been unjust. The anger she had carried since losing her uncle had never truly disappeared. Slowly, Charlie reached for her phone. Hanna immediately stopped her. “Not here.” Charlie looked at her. “What?” “Don't post it from this estate. Drive around Willy's estate. Let people see that the message is coming from somewhere connected to the Harris family. Then post it.” Charlie hesitated. “And after that?” “Throw the phone away.” Charlie stared at Hanna. “Ask Warner to drive you.” After a long silence, Charlie nodded. “Okay.” A short while later, Warner drove Charlie through the area surrounding Willy Harris's estate. Charlie sat quietly in the passenger seat, holding the phone in her hand. She looked at the photograph again. It showed Michael Smith, Alicia Mooney, and their friends at Emmanuel's funeral.

Charlie knew exactly what the picture represented. Pain. Loss. A family mourning a child. For several minutes, she couldn't bring herself to post anything. Warner glanced at her. “You ready?” Charlie looked through the window. “Yeah.” She unlocked the phone, selected the photograph, and began typing. After reading the message several times, she finally posted it. “Willy Harris should be smiling at how things have turned for his murderers. The Harris family will not take Willy's death as an end. Instead, we will grow stronger. The Harris family has been reborn.” Charlie stared at the post for a few seconds. Then she opened the window, and threw the phone away. She watched it disappear behind them. Warner said nothing. Neither did Charlie. They simply drove back toward the estate. By the time they returned, Tiger and the rest of the crew had arrived with the shipment. Tiger approached Hanna with a smile. “Boss, everything went smoothly. We weren't checked.” Hanna smiled. “Good.” She looked toward the shipment. “I'll leave the distribution to you, then. Find a few streets where we can sell our merchandise while I look for bigger buyers.” Tiger nodded. “Understood.”

Hanna then looked toward Charlie. “But remember something.” Tiger turned toward her. “Charlie is your boss.” Tiger glanced at Charlie. “Everything must go through her. Whatever she says is what I say.” Hanna's voice became firm. “Her word is my word. Understood?” The entire crew nodded. “Yes, Boss.” Charlie stood quietly beside Hanna. For the first time in weeks, she felt different. She had spent so much time taking orders, following instructions, and feeling like she had no control over her own life. Now, everyone was looking at her. They were calling her boss. Charlie smiled faintly. She finally felt like she was someone important. Later that evening, Mark returned home. The Mooney residence was unusually quiet. As he walked into the living room, he looked toward Peter and Quinton. “They're still not coming out?” Peter nodded. “Let them be.” Mark shook his head. “No. I have something important to tell them. I need to speak with them.” Quinton gave him a sympathetic look. “Good luck with that.” Mark nodded before heading upstairs. When he reached Alicia's room, Alicia was sleeping soundly inside. He knocked softly. Nothing. He knocked again. Still nothing.

Mark increased the pace of his knocking. The sound eventually disturbed Alicia's sleep. She woke suddenly and looked toward the door. After a few moments, she opened it. Her father was standing outside. “My daughter, how are you?” Mark asked. “I've been knocking for a while.” Alicia yawned. “Dad, I just woke up. Actually, you woke me up. What is it?” Mark looked inside the room. “Where's Mike?” Alicia looked around. Then she noticed the open door to the study. “There you are.” They both walked into the study. Alicia reached over and removed my headphones. I turned around. “Wife. Father.” I sighed. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to keep myself busy.” Alicia looked at me. “Still not giving up?” I shook my head. “I won't.” Mark looked between the two of us. “That's what Chris said as well.” Alicia immediately froze. “Father…” She looked at him. “You went to see Chris?” Mark nodded. “Not only Chris. I spoke to Sarah and Samantha as well.” Alicia stared at him. Mark continued. “That's why I had to insist on knocking until you both answered.” I slowly stood from my chair. “Father, what do you mean?” I looked at him carefully. “Why did you go to them?” Mark took a deep breath. “I went because there is something you both need to know.” The room suddenly became silent. Alicia looked at me. I looked back at her. Then we both turned toward Mark. “What happened?” I asked.