She’s Back, and Hell’s Coming with Her novel Chapter 375

The memories faded, and Frank’s gaze automatically drifted toward Sabrina.

She sat with perfect posture, her expression calm and composed.

Sabrina noticed how uneasy Frank seemed.

She reached into her bag and took out two small jars of ointment, homemade by Stella.

Just before leaving, Stella had handed them to her, asking her to pass the ointment along to Frank and Shawn.

Stella had spent three days perfecting this special formula. It would do wonders for their injuries.

“What’s this?” Frank asked, curiosity piqued as he took one of the jars. He inspected the plain label—there was nothing written on it—then twisted off the lid for a sniff.

“Ugh, that smells awful,” he grimaced, quickly screwing the lid back on and waving his hand in front of his nose.

“It’s healing ointment from Stella—her secret recipe. The other jar’s for Shawn,” Sabrina explained.

The moment Frank heard it was from Stella, his attitude changed completely. Suddenly, the ointment didn’t smell so bad after all.

His face had been battered for days now. He’d tried every medication and cream under the sun, but nothing seemed to help.

“Oh, thank God—my face is finally saved! Thank you, Stella! Once I’m back to my handsome self, we’re all going out for a big meal to celebrate,” Frank declared, his relief palpable.

If Sabrina weren’t a girl, he probably would have hugged her out of sheer excitement. He glanced across the table at Nixon, but hugging him was out of the question.

Frank’s swollen, bruised face broke into a trembling smile. He was over the moon—at last, his good looks might return.

“Careful, don’t stretch your wounds,” Sabrina cautioned, noticing the way his grin stretched nearly to his ears. She couldn’t help but remind him to rein it in.

Frank, still fiddling with the ointment, rolled his eyes internally when he heard his usually cold, emotionless brother say that.

Since when did Nixon get so flustered over a pretty girl?

Sure, Nixon had never had a girlfriend, but Frank didn’t buy for a second that his brother had never been with a woman. Nixon was in his twenties, after all. Who would believe he’d never had any experience? Frank certainly didn’t.

He was a guy—he understood. Any man would take a second look at a beautiful girl.

But this line? Seriously, could Nixon be any more cliché? Maybe Frank should give him a lesson in flirting. Then again, maybe not.

Frank smirked. “Come on, bro. She’s lived in Port City the whole time—how could you have seen her before?”

Out in the hallway, Cole could practically envision Frank’s schadenfreude-filled grin. He was clearly taking the chance to get back at Nixon, hoping to throw his brother off balance and make him squirm.