Sang Sorenson. 18 years old. Doctor. Academy Agent.
Sang comes from an abusive family, but managed to escape from their clutches at 11 years old. The academy welcomed her with open arms, teaching her how to protect herself but also how to protect ot...
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I follow Sang into the living room and she glances at me warily. She's wary? I don't even know what she wants.
"I need to talk to you about Brandon," she says, sighing. "I didn't know whether to bring it up or not, but he could really get hurt if he doesn't listen."
"What is it?" I ask, confused.
"He's not listening," she says, and I nod. I got that part. "I need him to ice his hand to reduce the swelling. It needs to stay bandaged to prevent further movement, and I know he hasn't been doing either. Plus, he's complaining about pain but hasn't once reached out to me."
Thank fuck.
I mean, no, not thank fuck, but at least it isn't something too serious.
"I'll make him listen," I reassure her. She nods.
"I don't want to place him on sick leave," she says. "But if he repeatedly ignores instructions I will have to. He will further damage his wrist and that won't help anyone."
"You're right," I reply. She seems so relieved after speaking to me and I smile at the genuine response. She actually cares about us—or at the very least, Brandon.
"Are you happy to stay for dinner?" she asks me. "I made mac and cheese, and there's enough for everyone."
"I saw," I say. "Yes. We'll stay."
"Good," she replies smiling. We head into the dining room and she sits down next to Gabe and strangely they've left the other seat on her other side open for me. We all serve ourselves and I catch North staring at Sang's plate, but I can't understand why.
"So how much trouble is Brandon in?" Luke asks, smirking.
"None," Brandon snaps.
"We will see," Luke replies teasingly. "I know Sang better than you." Why did that sound like he was marking his territory? By the look of some of the other's faces, they thought so too, but they're all happy about it.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brandon asks, and I hide my smirk.
"That if you don't listen, she'll put you on sick leave," Luke says but only Sang thought that's what he actually meant. "Plus annoy you all day until you concede."
"I'm not annoying," Sang says.
"Sure, you're not, Cupcake," Luke replies.
"Stop being a little shit," North grunts.
"He was born that way," Nathan says, shrugging. "Imagine five year old Luke."
"I'm glad I missed that stage," North says, laughing.
"I was a cute five year old," Luke says offended. They all laugh but he turns his sad expression onto Sang. I watch as her gaze softens.
"Stop being mean to Luke," Sang chides. "To be honest, I'd be more concerned about five year old North."
