“No, I hate hospitals. John can patch up me here, can’t you, John?” She tried to open her eyes, but the towel was blocking them. “Make room, Ethan. You’re crowding me.”
“Please, Walter, could you call a plastic surgeon?” Ethan said. “The best one.”
Alistair didn’t budge from his place on the sofa; his big hands resting protectively on Sophia’s hips, the wide expanse of his chest looming over her.
“Gabriela?” she asked, worried.
“Don’t you worry, she’s with Elena, Domitila, and the other children. Do you want me to check on her?” His deep voice soothed her and he put his hand over hers.
She brushed the towel aside and looked at him, bewilderment in her eyes. “No, thank you,” she murmured. “They’ll keep her distracted. She didn’t want to leave yet anyway.”
“Ethan, can you please hold t
