Petty was desperate for the answer, yet terrified of hearing the truth.
When Franco remained silent, she grabbed his arm, gripping him tightly as she looked up. "You said you wouldn't lie to me anymore."
Her fingers trembled.
Her fragile mental state and battered body couldn't withstand another storm of devastation.
And that was something Franco couldn't bear to inflict on her, either.
His internal struggle crumbled in an instant. His voice was hoarse as he admitted, "Yes."
That single word hit Petty like a suffocating wave.
Her vision went dark, the world spinning violently around her.
As her grip on his arm weakened, Franco caught her hand, steadying her effortlessly. His other arm carefully wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her limp body against his chest.
He tightened his hold, keeping her securely against him.
Looking down, he unfastened the protective mask on her face and gently wiped away her falling tears with his thumb. "That's why I said he needs you right now. You have to stay strong, understand?"
Petty squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clutching Franco's shirt in a death grip.
In the empty, echoing isolation ward, her muffled, uncontrollable sobs poured out against his chest.
Hans was waiting outside for her.
When the outermost isolation door finally slid open, he spotted Petty and immediately pushed her wheelchair forward.
Before he even got close, he noticed her eyes were incredibly red. It was obvious she had been sobbing.

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