Chapter 115: The Cost of Caring
Shane’s moods were unpredictable, swinging wildly without warning. Just then, Sierra heard Shane mention Jonathan.
“I thought you might align with that poor Mr. Yeager. Oh wait, he might not be poor.”
Clearly, Jonathan’s background was no minor detail if even Shane couldn’t dig up his family history. Hearing Jonathan’s name put Sierra instantly on guard. “This has nothing to do with Mr. Yeager.”
Shane’s smirk straightened into a line, then curled up again. “So, you’ve quickly found someone new to protect?”
He raised his left hand, bending his fingers one by one. “Your grandma, Jonathan, oh, and that boy who almost got played to death. Haven’t you learned anything in three years inside? The more you care, the more you lose in the end. Haven’t I taught you that? Why can’t you understand?”
Shane’s words dragged Sierra back into painful memories. Back then, she was targeted by everyone, alone and isolated. When a new inmate arrived—always a prime target for bullying—Sierra saw her former self in them. She couldn’t help but reach out, which only made her a bigger target.
There were times she wanted to give up, but seeing that young girl stripped and mistreated, she couldn’t help but intervene. The scars on her arms were from one such incident—a deep wound that required over twenty stitches. After she was released from the hospital, she never saw that girl again. She had thought the girl was transferred to another facility, but then she saw her in those videos, in a terrible state, possibly driven mad. Kason, that beast, had used her ruthlessly. The video showed her alive at the end, but no one knew what ultimately happened to her.
Guessing that Sierra was thinking about that girl, Shane’s gaze slid over Sierra’s scarred arm, and he spoke slowly, “Did you know? They found inmate 00065 and told her if she could provoke you into reacting, they’d let her go. So, she suggested she be bullied on your usual path, even came up with the methods herself.”
Sierra’s eyelashes trembled slightly; she knew what Shane wanted to see—a look of disappointment, regret, even tears—but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Indeed, because she maintained her composure, Shane’s eyes gradually grew colder, and he snapped, “You really don’t listen, do you?” Sierra obediently exited the car, but Shane’s mood didn’t improve. Sierra was the most stubborn person he’d encountered; no method he tried could quench the fight in her eyes.
At first, she provided some emotional entertainment for him, but now she was just increasingly disagreeable. Perhaps, he mused, it was time to target someone she cared about. A sinister smile crossed his eyes as he thought of Dickson—an easy target, rootless and insignificant, someone whose disappearance would go unnoticed.
As for Sierra’s grandmother and Jonathan, the former wouldn’t need his intervention; the old lady wouldn’t last much longer. He was curious to see if she could pull off her last act. Jonathan, however… Shane frowned. Ever since he noticed someone investigating Sierra’s three years in prison, he had been trying to identify who it was. But Jonathan remained elusive. He had heard of Jonathan’s reputation but didn’t care much, as geniuses were a dime a dozen to him. But failing to uncover Jonathan’s background was a red flag, signaling that he was no ordinary man. The plot was thickening, much to Shane’s delight.
Jonathan got home late that day. As he stepped off the elevator, he sensed something off and sharply looked towards the fire escape. Adjusting his glasses to mask the murderous intent in his eyes, he walked over and pushed open the door.
Sierra, playing with her steel needle, was caught off guard by the blinding light. She instinctively turned around, only to see a tall figure at the doorway, and immediately sensed danger.