Lillian cut him off, impatient. "Don't you have any other food stored away?" Jacob shook his head. "I'm not like you women with your little tricks. I'm a grown man. You think I'd be hiding foods like Mom used to?" Lillian frowned. "I'm not talking about hidden money. I mean, do we have anything else left? Any assets at all?" Jacob sighed. "What assets? All our savings, stocks, and funds—they're worthless now. The only supplies we had were here in the house. During the storm ... " He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what she meant. Jacob couldn't believe what he just heard. His face twisted with anger. "Lillian, what are you getting at? You want to see if I'm broke so you can run off? Is that it?" Lillian knew then—he had nothing left. She didn't waste another second. With one powerful shove, she threw him to the floor and walked away. Already injured, Jacob cried out in pain from the sudden fall. When she reached the door, he panicked and shouted, "Wait! I do have supplies!" Lillian stopped and glanced back. "Where?" Jacob glared. "You want to know? Then you have to take me with you." She stared at him for a few seconds. "Tell me first. Then I'll take you." Jacob bit his lip and stayed silent. Lillian didn't push. She knew him too well. He had no hidden stash of supplies. Without hesitation, she walked away. Jacob watched her back, cold and unshaken. His chest burned as he shouted, "We're husband and wife! How could you leave me behind?" At the door, Lillian turned and gave him one last, scornful look. "Weren't you Scarlett's husband too?" Jacob's face twisted. He had no reply. "You left me once. Now it's your turn to feel what I felt." She let out a long breath, then shut the door behind her. Jacob stared at the door closing in his face, shaking with anger and fear. "Lillian! If you do this, our daughter will never forgive you!" Then, as if something clicked, he muttered, "That's right. I still have my daughter. Who says I don't have supplies? Natalie has plenty!" His voice turned wild. "All I need to do is apologize." He kept rambling as he crawled forward on hands and knees, dragging himself toward the main road. Out on the street, people were still standing around, watching. A short distance from the Mallin villa, Lillian stopped. She chewed on a cookie, eyes sweeping the road as she waited for Rosalie. By the time she finished the last bite, Jacob had finally dragged himself out of the house. His ruined leg made every move slow and painful. "Lillian, you heartless witch!" he shouted. Sweat poured down his forehead. Crawling across the ground, covered in dust and dirt, he looked utterly wrecked. For a man who had lived most of his life in comfort and pride, Jacob had never suffered like this. Furious, he clawed his way toward Lillian, reaching for her ankle. Lillian clicked her tongue in annoyance. She pressed her foot down hard on his hand and ground it into the dirt. "Jacob, are you ever going to stop?" He cried out in pain, rage boiling inside him. "Lillian! I fed you, clothed you, and took care of you your whole life! Now the moment trouble comes, you turn on me? I've supported you all these years, and you never even gave me a son. How dare you treat me like this?" Jacob had always acted tough around her. Even now, with things against him, his voice stayed harsh and commanding. Lillian let out a sharp laugh. "Supported me? You make it sound like I've never taken care of you? You never stop whining about a son. Neither I nor Scarlett gave you one. So tell me, is that my problem, or yours?" That topic was taboo for any man. "Bitch! What did you just say?" His shout leapt to a piercing pitch, loud enough to carry down the street. It caught the attention of neighbors who had been loitering on the main road for hours with nothing to do. Finally, some drama. One by one, they drifted closer. "Mr. Ashford, what happened to you? Why are you hurt so badly?" "Good grief, your family never knows peace, does it?" "Tell us what's going on, Mr. Ashford! Let us judge who's right!" Jacob knew exactly what they were after—his humiliation. He had climbed the social ladder only by marrying into wealth and bowing to his father-in-law, never by earning true respect. Later, he'd kicked Natalie out and brought Lillian and Rosalie into the house. Jacob had made himself the neighborhood's favorite topic of gossip. If things had stayed quiet, maybe people would've let it slide. But at the last homeowners' meeting, he'd managed to offend half the neighborhood. Now the ridicule on their faces was plain as day. His body ached, his pride burned, and he gave up even the pretense of dignity as he shouted back—