I will take care of you.

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---- CONRAD'S POV ----
*Two days before the break-in*

"Does it hurt a lot?" I ask her, taking her hand and resting it over my palm. Without waiting for her answer, I carefully check the injury to verify its condition.

Fortunately, although they didn't provide me with the proper tools and medication, I was still successful in preventing it from getting infected.

But damn, that's a really bad wound. I can't even imagine the suffering she must have felt.

"Do you want a painkiller? I could get one..." I unconsciously grit my teeth in anger, and my voice trembles slightly as I speak to her. I was clearly instructed not to give her any analgesic, nothing that would alleviate the pain in any way. But damn, it pisses me off terribly!

What is the need to make her suffer like that?

This is something really cruel, and beyond inhuman...

"No, now is a little better than other days, thank you." She lifts her gaze to mine, then sketches a shy, barely pronounced smile. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me, you don't have to put yourself in danger for me..."

"You don't need to worry about that..." I soften the lines on my face, remaining speechless; her strength will never cease to amaze me. Considering all she's been through, the great majority of people would never be able to show such a genuine smile, putting themselves in her shoes. But not even close. Yet, since this crazy story began, there isn't a day that she doesn't get up full of determination; ready to fight with her fists and teeth not to be broken in her soul, keeping hope alive.

And considering all of this, I just can't get over how it's possible that the first thing she can think about is to not get me into trouble.

How can she have such an altruistic and kind heart?

We are both sitting on the floor, facing each other. Hannah has her back resting against the bed frame with her head held up by the mattress; her left leg is bent, giving support to her uninjured hand placed above the knee. Instead, I'm sitting cross-legged in front of her, with my medical case always at my side.

I take a deep breath, as I tremble imperceptibly and close my eyes for a few moments. "I'm sorry for what happened to you." I can't look her in the face, so I focus on my briefcase on the right. I start fiddling with items inside, finally pulling out a medicine tube. I dedicate all my attention to opening the package; I do not dare to look up again. I begin to gently apply the antibiotic ointment on the wound. I feel her hand jerk between my fingers.

Sorry, I know, unfortunately it burns and is not a pleasant feeling.

"Conrad, please don't beat yourself -it's not your fault." She barely moans, gritting her teeth as I try to make it as fast as I can.

I click my tongue, shaking my head in disagreement. "It may not be my fault, that's true, but there was nothing to keep me from stopping him." The words that came out of my mouth hurt me, striking at the core of my pride, wounding my dignity. Although I was dying inside, I did not have the audacity to oppose that bastard's orders. I continued to obey the task he gave me, simply standing by and watching as Hanson crippled and maimed her.

"And what were you going to do? Expose your whole family to the risk of death, just to save one finger?" She smiles, is trying to downplay and, as always, shows how boundless her fortitude is. Her fingers squeeze my hand, caressing the back of it, with a touch that is able to make my regret less severe. Her voice returns to seriousness. "You were forced to follow Zhou's commands, you couldn't do anything else."

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