Chapter 121
1 gulped, stepped forward slightly, and rolled up my right sleeve.
The wound stood out-red and raw against my fair skin.
As the fabric brushed over it, a tingling sensation spread across the fraying edges, and | winced at the
understated pain. It felt like ants were gnawing at me.
Soren’s expression darkened. “That's a long gash. Did you treat it?”
“It’s not bleeding anymore, right? So it’s fine!”
He didn’t look convinced. Taking my hand, he pulledcloser to inspect the wound. “Did you use antiseptic?”
“Immediately after it happened!” | replied.
“Did you get a tetanus shot?”
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“What?!” My hand trembled at the question, and | yanked it away.
There was no way | would let him dragto the hospital for that. “No, it's fine! The cut was shallow, and my
scissors weren't rusted! The chances of tetanus infection are low!”
He suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto mine. “You're afraid of needles, aren't you?”
| hesitated, then gave a small, reluctant nod. “Y-Yes...”
His voice softened. “Were you afraid of the ones they used on you during Edward's blood transfusions?”
My heart skipped a beat. | stared at him, and suddenly a lump formed in my throat.
Yes. | had always been afraid.
Harry and his family had hurtmore times than | could count, but none of their cruelty compared to the sharp,
piercing pain of a needle.
Every time, | endured the transfusions in silence-gritting my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, turning my face
away-all for Edward.
| truly was the world’s biggest idiot. | would do anything for love, brave and determined, no matter the cost.
Yet no one, not even Edward, ever asked if it hurt or if | was afraid. No one noticed.
Except Soren. His sharp eyes saw through me, piercing what others overlooked. And more than that he cared.
My vision blurred. A flood of emotions clogged my throat, but | couldn't say anything. Not here. Not now.
Soren understood anyway and sighed. “Bless your heart.”
He knew exactly why
was reacting this way.
Gently, he reached out and pulled my sleeve back down. The warmth of his fingers lingered on my wrist,
spreading through my veins and curling into my chest.
| blinked hard, willing the tears to retreat.
Then, forcing a chuckle, | said, “Thanks for your concern, Mr. Kenway. Sorry |, um, lost control a little bit.”
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He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
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Chapter 121
The moment | heard him mention skind of balm or cream, alarm shot through me. “Wait, there's no need for
that! I've got antiseptic cream at my office!”
He ignored me, continuing his call.
Only after he hung up did he say, “Then why didn’t you use t? Look at your skin-it’s not healing well. And the
fraying part must hurt every tit rubs against your sleeve, right?
“Don’t peel it off, though. It’s protecting your wound while new skin forms. It'll coff on its own when it’s
ready.”
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Chapter 122