I couldn’t stand Garrett’s stupidity any longer. My fist slammed into his head. “Shut up, Garrett.”
“Don’t make me hear such stupid questions again.”
Garrett’s face contorted with pain as he jumped up and accused me of unnecessary violence. But under the sharpness of my gaze, he clamped his mouth shut and turned his attention to checking Bianca’s wounds.
As he examined her, his expression grew more serious.
I had a bad feeling.
“Well?”
“I need more specialized equipment to confirm my assessment,” Garrett said. Bianca’s injuries were beyond his initial expectations, and he couldn’t rely solely on experience to diagnose her condition.
I should’ve taken Bianca to the hospital right away. Whatever concerns or secrets she had, nothing could be more important than her life.
Luckily, Garrett often followed medical teams to war zones for humanitarian aid. He kept some professional equipment in the trunk of his car.
“I’ll go get it.”
“No, I’ll go,” Garrett said, glancing at Bianca with a wry smile. “You know I can’t get near her if you’re not here.”
Bianca’s automatic defense mode was indeed a headache. Left with no other options, Garrett quickly taught me some basic wound-cleaning techniques before heading downstairs to retrieve his equipment.
I was grateful for my decent learning ability. After replaying Garrett’s instructions in my mind and practicing once, my movements became steady and proficient.
Garrett soon returned with the necessary tools.
With professional equipment, he could properly assess Bianca’s injuries and quickly devise a treatment plan.
“The wound is deep-just short of damaging her internal organs,” Garrett showed me the report, then began preparing the necessary medication and tools.
“She’ll need a shot of anesthetic and painkillers,” Garrett said. “Both the wound on her abdomen and the one on her hand need stitching.”
“Antibiotics will help reduce inflammation and fight infection. First, we need to lower her fever.”
I offered to assist Garrett, keeping Bianca’s automatic defense mode under control while handing him medication, sutures, gauze, and more. After forty grueling minutes, the treatment was finally done. Bianca received her antibiotics.
“Once this dose is finished, switch to the next bottle-it’ll take about fifty minutes,” Garrett said. “Her fever should come down after that.”
“She might call out for water during the night. Keep an eye on her.”
“Got it.” I noted his instructions. “Mae has been cleaning the room next door. You can sleep here.”
Garrett glanced at the time-4:12 a. m. It was late.
But he didn’t leave immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
His expression was complicated. “Are you sure she’s trustworthy?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“You answered too quickly…” Garrett sighed. “Fine, I’ll take that as a yes. Can you tell me why?”
It wasn’t a secret, and Garrett deserved some reassurance. “She’s close to Sienna.”
“Oh, Sienna, your ex?”
“For the last time, Sienna and I never dated,” I said firmly, warning Garrett. “Don’t believe Joela’s rumors.”
“But I remember you pursued someone named Sienna during grad school.”
“Yes, and she turned me down.” I admitted to my old feelings and pursuit without hesitation.
Sienna was an exceptional woman. Liking her, chasing her, even being rejected-it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
“We’re good friends now,” I added, satisfied with the current relationship.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t let go of my feelings for Sienna-I was just glad to have someone as outstanding as her as a friend.
“What about Joela?” Garrett asked, curious yet concerned. “She seems to hold a grudge against both you and Sienna.”
“She’s jealous of Sienna.”
“That’s ancient history,” I said. “But it has nothing to do with Sienna anymore.”
Talking about Joela brought back memories of our old research group, and it felt like a heavy stone pressed against my chest, suffocating me.
I didn’t want to continue.
Fortunately, Garrett wasn’t the type to pry. Seeing my reluctance, he feigned exhaustion, yawning as he said he’d go to bed.
“Wake me at 8 a. m. I have a meeting at 11.”
“No problem,” I replied.
I watched him leave the room, then bent down to adjust Bianca’s blanket, tucking her unbandaged hand under the covers.
“One more thing…” Garrett suddenly returned. “You should find her some clean clothes.”
Garrett offered a friendly reminder. “Her clothes are soaked in blood, dust, and bacteria. Watch out for secondary infections.”
It was a valid concern. But with Mae not yet on duty, I couldn’t ask for her help.
“So, what will you do, Mr. Falcone?” Garrett teased, clearly amused.
I calmly adjusted my glasses. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Mind if I stay and watch-”
The sound of me shutting the door in his face was his answer.
“Alright,” Garrett said through the door. “Sweet dreams, my friend.”
Once Garrett left, I took Bianca’s temperature.
The medication was working. Her fever had dropped slightly-not much, but it was a good start.
Relieved, I sterilized the thermometer with alcohol, put it back in its case, and went to the bathroom to fetch water.
I filled a basin with hot water, mixed in some cold, and tested the temperature with my hand. It was a little hot.
Grabbing a clean towel, I carried the basin back to the room.
Bianca, trapped in a haze of fever and pain, murmured incoherently. Her damp hair clung to her forehead, and she looked pitiful.
Perhaps only in moments like this-sick and vulnerable-did this proud and willful princess reveal her fragility.
I soaked the towel in hot water, wrung it out despite the heat, and carefully wiped away the sweat and grime on her face.
I wasn’t a trained caregiver, so my movements lacked precision. Bianca frowned and flinched, clearly uncomfortable.
“Stay still,” I whispered softly. “It’ll be over soon.”
Bianca stopped moving, obediently frowning as I gently cleaned her face.
I wiped her arms and legs-areas that didn’t invade her privacy.
After the simple cleaning, I checked her temperature again.
Though not quite normal, her fever had noticeably subsided.
Feeling reassured, I carried the basin back to the bathroom, emptied it, washed the towel, and hung it up to dry. Exhausted, I sank into the chair by her bed, staring blankly at the IV drip.
Bianca stirred, tugging at her collar. “Hot…”