Pampered by My Secret Husband Chapter 371 - 373: Why aren’t you speaking? Are you mute?

His hand gently patted Sophie Sullivan’s face. "Maniac, wake up."

Thinking of her face, Thomas Shannon then changed his approach, pinching her arm instead. "Maniac, wake up quickly!"

After he had been calling out strenuously for as long as ten minutes, Sophie Sullivan finally, slowly, woke up.

It was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She remained stunned for a good while before realizing where she was.

"Maniac?"

The man’s deep voice was right beside her ear.

Sophie Sullivan took a deep breath, only to inhale a mouthful of dust. She choked and coughed, and Thomas Shannon patted her back.

Only then did Sophie Sullivan realize she couldn’t move at all.

She tried to push Thomas Shannon, but he rely asked slowly, "What’s wrong?"

Sophie Sullivan remained silent.

Thomas Shannon asked again, "Are you injured sowhere?"

Before she woke up, he had examined her. There was no blood on her body. Could it be... is there still sowhere I missed?

"COUGH, COUGH..."

Sophie Sullivan coughed again. The dust in the air was so thick it was unbearable.

RIP—

The distinct sound of fabric tearing.

The man’s warm hand offered her a piece of cloth. "Cover your mouth and nose."

Sophie Sullivan understood his intention: he wanted her to make a simple mask to block the dust.

Not wanting to make things harder for herself, Sophie Sullivan didn’t feign refusal and readily accepted it.

"Why aren’t you talking? Gone mute?"

"..."

"Don’t worry, Charlie River will be here to save us soon."

"..."

"Maniac, speak!"

The man’s patience had reached its limit. He gripped her chin with one hand, applying a bit of pressure.

Sophie Sullivan winced in pain and gasped sharply.

Thomas Shannon laughed with satisfaction. His laughter, deep and low, was especially clear in the confined space.

The image of Alia Shaw’s unpeaceful, dead expression and the wretched sight of her body, riddled with bullets and lying in a pool of blood, flashed through Sophie Sullivan’s mind.

"Thomas Shannon."

"Hmm?"

Sophie Sullivan didn’t detect any change in his tone, nor did she sense any grief from him over Alia Shaw’s death. She calmly reminded him, "...Alia Shaw is dead."

At first, I really thought he wanted to use to divert George Field’s attention and save Alia Shaw. It wasn’t until later that I realized Thomas Shannon had intended to save ** from the very beginning. He knew George Field wouldn’t easily believe him, so he made the move to use as a human shield. At that ti, George Field had just ordered his n to fire, and his attendants still had a few seconds to react. I wasn’t in any real danger; the bullets wouldn’t hit . But Alia Shaw was different. That might have been a test from George Field, to see who Thomas Shannon truly cared about. Seeing him pull in front of him as a shield, George Field must have resolutely concluded that Alia Shaw was the woman Thomas Shannon loved most. Especially after Alia Shaw was shot, his low growl of protest must have further convinced George Field that his judgnt was correct. The place where we’re hiding now was obviously carefully calculated from the start. The triangular pocket ford here is just enough to support the debris above, preventing us from being crushed. And Thomas Shannon shielded in his embrace, ensuring I didn’t suffer the slightest injury.

"I know." Thomas Shannon’s voice was, as always, cold, making it impossible to guess his thoughts.

Silence.

An oppressive silence descended between them.