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Henry deliberately kept far away from the area where the Void was rampaging, approaching East 49th Street and Katharine Hepburn's home from a safer distance.

He found a conveniently secluded landing spot, set the car down, then drove the rest of the way to Miss Hepburn's residence.

It was an old building with no elevator.

Katharine Hepburn had lived there for over sixty years.

When she was younger, she had wanted peace and quiet, so she hadn't bought a lower-floor apartment.

Nor had she chosen the top floor, where summer heat was worst.

Instead, she lived one floor below the top—on the fourth floor.

But for a ninety-one-year-old woman, that kind of staircase was obviously inconvenient.

Her family had long urged her to move somewhere else—or return to the family home in Connecticut.

But people always become attached to old houses.

And Katharine Hepburn had always been a woman of fierce will.

If she didn't agree, then no one could drag her out, no matter how hard they tried.

Under ordinary circumstances, that sort of personality would earn praise.

A "strong woman."

But in moments like this, whoever had to deal with it would only feel cursed by fate.

Still—

What good was resignation?

Could they simply leave her there?

For Henry, this old lady was one of the very few people he truly cared about.

If he let anything happen to her, he had no idea how long the regret would haunt him.

Though the Void's destruction was still some distance from East 49th Street, every New Yorker had seen Sentinel casually lift and slam a ninety-meter monster before.

Power like that meant nowhere within the concept of New York could really be considered safe.

That was why even this short drive had been unusually difficult.

Roads were packed with fleeing people and abandoned cars.

Thanks to his enhanced senses, Henry never got trapped.

Whenever traffic ahead looked bad, he simply jumped onto sidewalks or cut through side streets.

This was not the time to obey traffic laws.

If a jam formed ahead, he could sense it early and reroute long before getting stuck.

Thus, after a tense but smooth journey, he finally arrived beneath Katharine Hepburn's building.

He had once visited here with Charlize Theron, so there was no chance of mistaking it.

Parking by the curb, Henry went to the apartment entrance and rang the buzzer.

The ringing tone confirmed the building still had electricity.

A good sign.

Soon, a voice came through the intercom.

"Who is it?"

It was a younger woman's voice.

Henry replied:

"It's Henry Brown. Maria, is that you? Is Katharine alright?"

"Ah, Mr. Brown, you finally made it. Hurry upstairs—I've been waiting for you. Katharine is fine, she just refuses to listen to anyone."

Pushing open the front door, Henry noticed that only Katharine's unit still seemed occupied.

So he took a shortcut.

Using super speed, he dashed up to a floor where Maria wouldn't witness anything strange, then walked normally the rest of the way.

The private caregiver was alert enough.

She only opened the apartment door halfway and nervously peered outside.

Henry didn't push in or startle her.

Instead, he calmly identified himself again.

"Maria, I'm Henry Brown."

"Mr. Brown, please come in. Quickly, please."

Only then did the middle-aged woman open the door fully.

Katharine Hepburn's health had declined sharply over the past two years, which was why her family had insisted on hiring full-time care.

Henry had never met this woman before, so her caution made sense.

Inside the apartment sat the former Queen of Hollywood.

Though summer had already begun, she wore a floral T-shirt, denim overalls, and a short cardigan.

She sat by the window, gazing out at the street as if the commotion at the door did not exist.

It wasn't that the old lady was hard of hearing.

She simply had a lifelong habit of pretending not to hear what she didn't care for.

Henry immediately dropped the urgency he had shown before.

With unfamiliar people, one often needed to mirror their emotions to create connection.

Appearing worried, sympathetic, affected.

If you seemed too calm, too detached, people might feel unimportant.

Henry usually paid close attention to such details.

But with this old lady, that approach was useless.

She needed coaxing.

And everyone knew elderly people were harder to coax than children.

Nor could Henry simply throw her over his shoulder and run.

So he reverted to the old tone he always used when visiting.

"Katharine, it's been a while. How are your joints treating you?"

The old lady turned her head.

Her previously flat expression slowly brightened.

Then she smiled kindly.

"Henry, child, what brings you to visit me?"

"Because I missed you."

Henry stepped forward, bent down, and exchanged cheek kisses with her where she sat.

Katharine Hepburn glanced around.

"Where's your little girlfriend? Did she dump you?"

Good lord.

This sharp-tongued old woman went straight for a critical hit.

Henry twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"Charlize is filming in Australia. I did not get dumped."

"Oh, then that explains why you came to see me."

She put on a tragic face.

"I'm just the substitute."

At some point, this had once been Tony Stark's treatment.

Now it was his turn.

Henry obviously couldn't waste time chatting forever, so he smoothly steered the topic back.

"Katharine, staring at street scenery all day isn't much fun, is it?

"Let's go to Fenwick and look at the sea instead.

"I'll cook for you myself."

The old lady gave him a suspicious look.

"You'll cook? There's a kitchen here.

"Why must we go all the way back to Fenwick?"

Henry rubbed his hands together with a greedy expression.

"The wine cellar at the old house still has plenty of aged bottles.

"The wine here has probably all been thrown out by your grandnieces by now."

"That bunch of little nuisances."

She snorted.

"They've thrown away so many of my things. When I die, I'll leave them less."

"Exactly.

"So if there's no wine left here, naturally we should go back to the old estate and drink in front of them."

That line finally worked.

Katharine Hepburn relented and nodded.

"Very well. But how are we getting there?"

"I drove here. The car's downstairs.

"Maria has already packed your things.

"We can leave immediately."

As he spoke, Henry slid one arm under her knees and another behind her back—

Then lifted her directly into a bridal carry.

The sudden movement made the old woman let out a delighted childlike cheer.

At the same time, she wrapped both arms around Henry's neck.

Yet she still found room to complain.

"You impatient boy.

"Pity you're seventy years too late."

"Oh?

"If I'd arrived seventy years earlier, would I have had a chance to kiss the beauty?"

"Mmm... no.

"You'd still need to become more dependable first."

"Wow. Tough standards."

Carrying her in his arms, Henry jogged toward the door.

Naturally, he didn't forget to signal Maria Thomson with his eyes to follow quickly.

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