Chapter 551 Today is the Gomez Family's Memorial Day
Bianca's laughter was eerie, her face ghostly pale, her eyes wide open with crimson veins spreading from within. It seemed like an invisible force was holding her captive, rendering her powerless.
"Bianca! Drop the knife! Drop it!"
Brandon extended his arms and slowly approached her, taking small, cautious steps, afraid of startling Bianca's already frayed nerves.
"Bianca, don't be scared. Look at me. It's okay. Let's talk, alright?"
Brandon coaxed her gently, his determined and intense eyes fixed on her, who now appeared to be a deranged lunatic.
Suddenly, Brandon recalled what Sebastian had said: depression.
Bianca had developed severe depression after the Gomez family was massacred.
So now, Bianca was in the throes of a depressive episode. She had lost her sanity, completely collapsed, unable to hear any sound, and even the slightest disturbance could trigger an extreme reaction.
Bianca's vacant, lifeless eyes stared blankly at Brandon. Her dry lips moved slightly, "Daddy..."
Her voice was faint, filled with helplessness and sorrow as if she saw a vision of her father from her childhood.
She was back to when she was six years old, staring at him in a daze, her voice filled with joy and longing, "You came to find me?"
Brandon quickly realized she was hallucinating, mistaking him for her father.
Brandon inched closer, smiling lovingly at her, "Bianca, be good. Listen to me. Put the knife down, come on."
He spoke softly, his anxious eyes following her every move, gently suppressing the panic that threatened to burst from his chest, guiding her closer.
Bianca's disheveled hair clung to her body, tangled and matted from her frantic screams and self-harm, some strands sticking to her face, damp with sweat.
Bianca squinted, her eyes emitting a chilling light. She fell silent for a long time, gripping the knife tighter, her scrutinizing gaze growing sharper.
Brandon swallowed nervously, using a gentle tone to coax her, "Bianca, relax. Listen to me. Put down what's in your hand and come to me."
Bianca squinted harder, then her lips twisted into a smile more terrifying than death, "You're not! You're not!"
Her scream shattered the previous calm, the bathroom echoing with her sudden outburst.
Brandon felt a chill down his spine but continued to speak gently, "Bianca, I am. Come down, put down what's in your hand."
Bianca's fingers tightened around the knife handle, the sharp blade aimed at her throat.
One cut and she would be dead.
The blade pressed against her throat, and in an instant, blood oozed from her neck, trickling down the blade, slowly reaching the handle, then spreading to her palm, accumulating and dripping onto the floor.
"Bianca! Don't be foolish! Wake up! Look at me! Look at me, Bianca! I'm Brandon, I'm Brandon!"
Seeing the blood on her neck, Brandon lost control and shouted her name.
The blood trickling down her neck felt like a knife cutting into Brandon's heart.
Her pain was his pain.
Perhaps Bianca no longer felt the physical pain. Her hollow eyes stared at Brandon, muttering to herself, laughing like a lost soul.
"I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll drink your blood, eat your flesh. I want you dead! You die!"
Suddenly, Bianca's sinister gaze turned even colder and more terrifying as she looked at Brandon, "You killed them! It was you! I'll kill you! Kill you!"
Brandon was shocked. Bianca now thought he was Marc.
With a sudden thought, Brandon bared his teeth and laughed maniacally, "Bianca, that's right, it was me. I killed your whole family! Kill me! Come on! Kill me!"
Bianca clutched her throbbing head, unable to distinguish who was who, even forgetting who she was, "Ah!"
The chaotic battle in her mind pushed Bianca to the brink of collapse.
She seemed to hear countless voices shouting, not knowing whom to listen to, not knowing what was real, knowing nothing!
She wanted to hear her voice, but it was suppressed, unable to make a sound.
"Bianca! Come here, use the knife in your hand to kill me! Come on! Kill me!"
Meanwhile, Brooklyn's car sped away from the hospital. The journey was long, so she turned on the car radio to pass the time with some news.
As soon as the radio came on, a male news anchor's voice filled the car, "Listeners, do you remember what day it is today? The infamous Gomez family massacre happened on this day."
Brooklyn's grip on the steering wheel tightened! A powerful force seemed to pull her arm, forcing the high-end car to a stop!
Brooklyn stared at the numbers on the car's display screen. The day was the anniversary of Bianca's family's death.
Bianca always lost control on this day!
Realizing this, Brooklyn quickly turned the car around, speeding in the opposite direction of home!
Bianca couldn't be in trouble!
She had come so far, endured so much, and was finally on the verge of a new beginning. She couldn't be in trouble now!
The more Brooklyn thought about it, the more anxious she became.
The black Rolls-Royce became a streak of light on the road, its headlights casting a cold, white glow.
Back in Bianca's bathroom, the standoff continued.
Blood kept flowing from Bianca's neck, dripping more and more onto her back, staining her white dress with red, turning it into a morbid flower of death.
"Bianca! Kill me! I was the one who killed your family! It was me!" Brandon pounded his chest, trying to redirect Bianca's murderous intent onto himself.
After several attempts, Bianca's gaze finally focused on Brandon. She scrutinized him, "It was you, Marc! It was you!"
With a roar, Bianca moved the knife away from her neck, gripping it tightly with both hands as she lunged at Brandon!
"Die!"
The blood-stained knife aimed straight for Brandon's face!
Brandon grabbed the knife with his bare hands, blood streaming from his palms, merging into a flow.
He wrestled the knife from her grip and threw it to the ground, kicking it away, then wrapped his bloodied hands around Bianca, holding her tightly.
Bianca, like a butterfly with clipped wings, collapsed weakly in his arms, trembling violently from fear and helplessness.
"Who are you?"
Brandon finally breathed a sigh of relief, holding her with his bloodied hands, tears, and a smile in his eyes, "I'm your man."
Bianca gave a weary smile, clearly not understanding what she had heard. She was exhausted, panting heavily in his arms, "Take me home, take me home."
At that moment, tears finally welled up in Bianca's eyes, hot and heavy, falling onto Brandon's arm, mixing with the blood.
"Bianca!"
Brooklyn burst through the door, shouting, and immediately saw the scattered wine bottles in the living room.
The same old story!
"Bianca! Bianca!"
Brooklyn kicked aside the bottles and saw a figure emerging from the bathroom.
Her eyes focused sharply, staring in surprise at the person coming out, "Mr. Hernandez!"
Brandon was holding a blood-soaked Bianca, both of their clothes stained red, especially Bianca's white dress. It wasn't hard to imagine what had just happened.
"She fainted," Brandon said wearily, managing a small smile at Brooklyn.
"Put her on the bed. I'll get the first aid kit!"
Brooklyn turned and went to the living room, quickly opening a cabinet and grabbing a medical kit, then rushed into the bedroom.
She prepared a syringe, drawing half a dose of sedative and injecting it into Bianca's vein, then cleaned her neck with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and wrapped it in gauze.
Brooklyn worked quickly, methodically, and without error.
Brandon watched her, stunned.
After finishing, Brooklyn wiped the sweat from Bianca's forehead, "I should have remembered sooner. It's my fault."
Brooklyn was filled with regret.
On this day in the past, she would have been by Bianca's side early, ready with a sedative to prevent an episode.
Today she had been too complacent, forgetting about Bianca.
"This isn't your fault," Brandon said, holding his hand, blood still flowing.
Brooklyn turned, "Mr. Hernandez, your hand..."
"It's nothing. Just played the hero for a moment."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes at him, "Let me bandage it."
Perhaps out of an instinctive fear of doctors, Brandon obediently opened his hand, revealing a nasty gash, blood covering the lines of his palm, looking gruesome.
Brooklyn applied some cotton to stop the bleeding, holding his hand as she bandaged it, "Today is the anniversary of Bianca's parents' death. The Gomez family was killed by Marc on this day."
Brandon flinched, his hand slipping from Brooklyn's grasp, the wound stinging sharply.
"Don't move!" Brooklyn frowned, pulling his hand back, "Why so agitated? Move again and your wound will be serious."
Brandon glanced at Bianca lying on the bed, "Is there any way to help her get better?"
Brooklyn wrapped his injured left hand, then moved to the right, "I'm a doctor. I can treat her physical ailments, but I can't heal her heart. The Gomez family massacre is her heartache. Since I've known her, I've seen her have two episodes, each worse than the last. But I don't know how to help her."
Brandon sighed, "I want to help her. I want to protect her."
Brooklyn finished bandaging his right hand, "Bianca's emotional trauma is severe. If there's any way to save her, it might be love. Enough love, patience, and waiting might help her come through."
Brandon nodded, "Thank you. I will help her."
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