Iris Harris stood up from the sofa, wanting to bypass him, but Brandan's hand reached out and grasped her wrist.
She trembled all over, stepped back abruptly, and fell back onto the sofa, looking at Brandan with shock and anger.
Brandan was also startled. He hadn't expected Iris Harris to have such a strong reaction. He instinctively let go of his hand and saw Iris quickly retract her wrist. Her skin was very pale, and the bruise on her wrist was particularly noticeable, a mark from his irrational grip in anger last night.
He felt his throat gradually tighten, an indescribable bitter feeling slowly rising from the bottom of his throat. Looking at Iris's pale face, he momentarily forgot what he wanted to say.
"What do you want?"
Iris pressed her lips slightly, her voice somewhat tense. Her eyelashes drooped, and she seemed a bit uneasy.
"Don't be afraid." Brandan said weakly, "I just want to ask if you're hurt somewhere?"
