Chapter 127


    That person dropped an address, a stone’s throw from the Starlight Group.


    When Brandon got there, the ambnce hadn’t arrived yet, but he spotted Sophia, the center of the


    crowd’s attention.


    She was propped up in a chair by the storefront, clutching her left arm with her right, blood oozing


    through her fingers and dripping down, her face as pale as a ghost, with a furrowed brow and a pained


    expression.


    At her feety a wooden sign, split in two, along with a clothing bag.


    The clerk was beside himself, ncing out the door in a panic, muttering on repeat, “Where the heck is


    that ambnce?” Despite her pain, Sophia was still somewhat lucid.


    “Get me a strip of cloth,” she managed to say, her voice weak.


    “Huh? Oh, sure,” the clerk replied, still in a tizzy, looking around aimlessly for some ratty piece of cloth.


    Brandon elbowed his way through the crowd and squatted down in front of Sophia.


    “Hanging in there?” he asked in a low voice, taking over the pressure on her wound with one hand,


    while reaching for the clothing bag with the other, swiftly pulling out a garment to wrap around her arm,


    not even checking what it was. As he wrapped her up, he looked at her, “Anything else hurting besides


    your arm?”


    Sophia shook her head instinctively, still feeling woozy.


    When the sign came crashing down, she reflexively put up her hand to shield herself, buffering the


    blow to her head, but the sharp metal edge that came with the sign still managed to slice a big gash in


    her arm, and the blood gushed out. The impact had left her head spinning and it took a while for her to


    clear her mind.


    Brandon noticed Sophia’s daze and gently stroked her forehead, his voice softening.


    “I’ll take you to the hospital.”


    With that, he slid one arm under her armpits and the other under her knees, scooping her up sideways.


    The sudden sensation of being lifted made Sophia instinctively cling to Brandon’s shoulder.


    “Don’t be scared,” he soothed as he held her close and turned to head for his car parked outside.


    “Someone dropped their clothes,” someone called out, and the clothing bag was stuffed between


    Brandon and Sophia.


    She nced at Brandon, who was already focused on getting to the car outside, holding her steadily as


    he strode through the alley. His steps were firm, his breathing even, and he held her tight.


    Sophia didn’t feel jostled or ufortable. She was forced to lean against his solid chest, the sound of


    his steady heartbeat and his familiar scent enveloping her, giving her a sense of security.


    It left Sophia with mixed feelings, which momentarily overshadowed the difort in her body and the


    fog in her head.


    By the time they reached the end of the alley, the ambnce had just arrived.


    Brandon carried Sophia into the ambnce and to the hospital.


    The ER staff quickly attended to her arm wound and, concerned about a possible concussion, the


    hospital arranged for her to stay overnight.


    Brandon took Sophia’s driver license to handle the admission paperwork, then settled her into the


    hospital room. After a series of blood tests and brain CT scans, it was nearly, dinner time.


    Sophia, weakened from blood loss and a mild concussion, fell into a fitful sleep as soon as she


    returned to her room, only to be vaguely aware of someone tucking her in gently.


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    She half-opened her eyes to meet a pair of deep, eyes.


    “Sleep a little longer.”


    Brandon whispered, fixing the nket around her before turning to the nightstand and spotting the


    clothing bag next to Sophia’s handbag. Remembering the cloth he had used to bandage her wound in


    the emergency, he paused for a moment, then walked over, picked up the bag, and opened it to find a


    little girl’s clothes inside. He looked surprised, then slowly turned back to Sophia. on the bed.


    Sophia was drifting in and out of sleep, not resting well, her brow furrowed in difort.


    Brandon kept quiet so as not to disturb her, his gaze returning to the clothing bag. He took out the pink


    and white clothes, a tiny


    set suitable for a one or two-year-old.


    He stared at it, lost in thought for a good while, his expression intense.


    When Sophia woke up, the first thing she saw was the pink and white clothes by the bed. Brandon was


    sitting in a chair, eyes


    half-closed, lost in thought.


    Seeing her awake, he looked up at her and then stood to approach.


    “Feeling any better?” he asked.