In an instant, Raegan felt a rush of blood to her head, as if she had turned into a stone statue, her mind in a turmoil.

Mitchel briefly met her gaze with calm, dark eyes.

Raegan could no longer contain her emotions. She rushed over, extending her hand to help him.

But before she could touch him, Mitchel gently withdrew, softly stating, "I can manage."

Raegan's hand froze midair, her demeanor stiffening.

Mitchel lowered his gaze and braced his elbow on the floor. With practiced ease, he used his other hand to hook the chair leg, leveraging himself up to sit back in the chair. The entire process was executed with practiced precision, indicating that he had performed this maneuver countless times before.

Despite his swift movements, Raegan couldn't help but notice that one of his legs hung limply, a glaring indication of his condition.

Raegan's nose stung, leaving her at a loss for words.

Observing her reaction, Mitchel's brow furrowed slightly. "Did Matteo say something he shouldn't have?"

In response, Raegan shook her head vaguely. "No, he didn't say anything. I simply observed..."

Mitchel remained unconvinced. Ever since his condition had worsened, Matteo's recent reaction to his orders, especially those he had specially warned against revealing to Raegan, had displayed a growing level of cunning. Matteo appeared to outwardly acknowledge and understand directives, yet whether he had stuck to the directives remained questionable. Judging from Raegan's current demeanor, it was evident that Matteo had indeed divulged something to her once more.

Mitchel signed silently. It appeared that Matteo's time in Tanzania hadn't instilled the restraint he had hoped for. It seemed further discipline would be necessary.

Since Raegan didn't admit to being informed by Matteo, Mitchel chose not to directly call her out. Instead, he casually remarked, "My leg is fine, not as serious as it seems."

Upon hearing this, Raegan discerned that Mitchel was merely composedly concealing the truth.

Suddenly, a hint of self-loathing engulfed her. It dawned on her that he must have invested considerable time coming to terms with his inability to walk unaided.

For this typically excellent and proud man to come to terms with his disability, the agony and struggle of rebuilding his self-esteem must have been monumental... And he had weathered all of these trials in solitude.

Contemplating how, while she had been avoiding him, pushing him away with her fear of her bringing misfortune on him, he had been enduring his suffering alone, Raegan's heart felt as though it were being wrenchingly torn by an intangible force.

Suddenly, heedless of all else, Raegan enveloped Mitchel in an embrace, her tears drenching his suit. In a hushed tone, she queried, “Mitchel, does it hurt?"

Only the two of them understood that this "does it hurt" referred to his emotional anguish, not the physical pain of his injury.

Regarding physical pain, Mitchel had endured far worse than this, countless times over.