Perhaps it was due to Deirdre’s trouble in adapting to the turbulence that she was sick on the plane on multiple occasions. By the time they landed, she was weak and exhausted.

She forced herself to get up from her seat with great effort, yet her knees buckled. She fell forward, and Brendan responded just in time to catch her by wrapping an arm around her.

Deirdre’s face was ghastly pale, and she was having trouble catching a breath. She grabbed Brendan’s collar in a state of anxiety and only loosened her grip when she realized her action.

Brendan did not loosen his grip over her at once, but his dark eyes were locked on Deirdre’s face without any reservation. There was concern and guilt in his gaze.

He caressed the woman’s ghastly pale face with his fingertips and said weakly, “I’m sorry that I can’t help with anything.”

He could only watch helplessly as Deirdre gagged and felt uneasy. His heart was ridden with anxiety, but there was nothing he could do in the presence of Dei