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 Brysons 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 Franklyns 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 Franklyns arm, his voice icy. Trying to fake your own injury?
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What? It seemed Franklyn was confused by Brysons accusation.
Upon hearing Brysons voice, Hannah quickly swung the door wide open, peering out at them. Come in, both of you. Dont just stand there outside, she instructed.
Hearing her, Bryson checked his anger, turned, and entered the suite.
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.
Who is he? he inquired sharply.
Hes my friend. Please be polite, Hannah responded.
Bryson raised an eyebrow. I assumed the assassins had come up with a new scheme.
Hannah rolled her eyes. Why dont you stay in your room? Why come out?
I heard someone at your door and got worried, Bryson explained.
When Franklyn, using his uninjured hand, closed the door, he overheard Brysons further remarks.
Im concerned you might be in danger, so I wanted to take care of it beforehand.
Having a serious conversation with Bryson proved difficult for Hannah.
Choosing to ignore him, she directed Franklyn to the sofa. Let me take a look at your arm.
Franklyn didnt hesitate. He sat down and removed his coat with a sharp intake of breath and a grimace. The blood had dried, sticking to his skin, and the movement of the jacket made the pain worse.
Once the coat was off, a deep and clearly penetrating wound was revealed, likely caused by something like a dagger.
Hannah gently pressed around Franklyns arm. Luckily, it doesnt seem like the bone is affected. We need to stop the bleeding. But, I dont have any tools here for anesthesia or suturing. I-
Before she could finish, Bryson, who had been leaning against the wall, interjected, Ill make a call and get everything you need.