"You know?" Enna Clark looked up, not understanding if he meant he knew she didn't do it on purpose or that he knew she was there.
Lyle Westbrook didn't answer her but suddenly grabbed her hand and pressed her to sit on the sofa, pursing his thin lips silently as he took out the item from the bag he had just given to Enna Clark.
Inside was actually ointment.
Enna Clark was momentarily dazed.
He silently but assertively pulled her left hand over, his gaze fixed on her bruised wrist, left by Baron Lawrence's out-of-control grip.
"Does it hurt?"
Enna Clark felt that this position was too ambiguous, and the way Lyle Westbrook asked the question was too suggestive. She instinctively tried to pull her hand back, awkwardly saying, "... It's nothing, it doesn't hurt. Baron Lawrence didn't really squeeze hard, he just lost control emotionally."
Baron Lawrence indeed didn't squeeze with real force, otherwise, her wrist wouldn't just be bruised but might have hurt the bone.
