Minutes later, he came jogging back with a plastic bag in hand.

The car door swung open, and Tyrone climbed in, bringing with him a wave of heat. "Stretch out your arm."

Quintessa blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"Your arm." Tyrone gestured for Quintessa to lift her right arm, then laughed. "The left one! Got sunburned and turned your brain to mush, huh?"

He unscrewed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and drew out two cotton swabs, dampening them. "This might sting a bit. Just bear with it."

The wound on Quintessa's arm, though shallow, was glaring. It had been inflicted by Lilian and had dried blood caked around it. Tyrone meticulously cleaned it, then pulled out a couple of Band-Aids to cover it up.

"That old woman, locked up in detention for long, who knows if she's even taken a shower, what kind of germs might be under her nails. Let's deal with it this way first, and then go to the hospital for a shot later."

Quintessa didn't feel the wound hurt at all, but it was Tyrone who had broken out in sweat.

a mountain out of a molehill. It's just a small wound; it

worried

doesn't have a scar or

don't like

His eyes, deep and dark, held warmth. She could even feel some

reached out and held the back of Quintessa's head, pressing towards her, and kissed

pedestrians hurried past. Tyrone's lips

cheek. "I hate seeing you hurt, sad, and even less seeing you cry. I want to make you laugh. So,

she moved her mouth corners, she found it somewhat hard to actually smile. "I'm

rarely cried. She

know what pain was anymore. Quintessa was

matter to her, as long as she was alive. But suddenly, someone they didn't want to see her like this, wanting to see her

a knock on the

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