Though it might be Franklyn, Hannah approached the door with caution, ready to verify the visitor through the peephole.

There, in the dim light, stood Franklyn.

His face was pale, his left arm cradled protectively.

Before Hannah could open the door, the door next to hers swung open.

Instantly, Franklyn found himself staring at Bryson’s cold expression, feeling the intense aggression emanating from him.

Danger loomed.

Acting on a sharp instinct, Franklyn cautiously retreated two steps upon encountering Bryson.

Observing Franklyn’s actions, Bryson narrowed his eyes and asked with a menacing tone, “Who are you?” His voice boomed, deep and commanding.

Franklyn, maintaining his caution, stepped back again, gauging the distance between them.

“Who are you?” Bryson repeated, his gaze dropping to the wound on Franklyn’s arm, his voice icy.

“Trying to fake your own injury?”

‘s BunnyBookery

“What?” It seemed Franklyn was confused by Bryson’s accusation.

Hannah quickly swung the

in, both

just stand there outside,” she

her, Bryson checked his anger, turned,

he?”

“He’s my friend.

polite,”

Bryson raised an eyebrow.

assumed the assassins had come up

Hannah rolled her eyes.

you stay in your room? Why come

someone at your door

uninjured hand, closed the door, he overheard Bryson’s further

concerned you might be in danger, so I wanted to take care of it

a serious conversation with Bryson proved difficult

to ignore him, she directed

me take a

Franklyn didn’t hesitate.

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