Chapter 2: Family
Sierra lifted her head, watching Bradley’s retreating back with a hint of coldness in her eyes. It was good; she had long stopped expecting anything from them. Otherwise, she might have felt hurt. She followed him into the house. As he said, everyone except Franklin Xander was present. Her brothers, Evan and Sean, sat on the couch, chatting with Denise.
“Sean, this outfit looks so good. Give it to me,” Denise said.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll call the brand and have them send over their entire seasonal collection,” Sean Xander replied generously.
“Evan, I can’t finish my thesis. Can you take a look at it later? Please?” Denise asked.
“Of course,” Evan Xander replied indulgently.
Their mother, Eleanor, sat beside them, watching with gentle affection. What a warm and loving scene. This place had never felt like home to Sierra. Six years ago, upon her return, she had been an outsider, always out of place. Denise had cried, and the family had comforted her, but no one had acknowledged Sierra, leaving her alone for over an hour. This time, at least the wait was shorter.
Eleanor noticed them and stood, exclaiming, “Sierra, you’re back!” She grabbed Sierra’s hand. “Come, let me take a good look at you. You’ve lost weight! But your skin is so much fairer now.”
Sierra gently pulled away, saying politely, “Madam Eleanor, thank you for your concern.”
“Enough!” Bradley snapped, his frustration finally erupting. “The whole family has been waiting for you, welcoming you home, and you’re putting on this attitude? Who are you trying to impress?”
Eleanor’s face fell. “Sierra, are you blaming us?”
The family immediately rushed to comfort her. Denise’s eyes reddened. “Mom, don’t be sad.”
“Sierra, it’s all my fault! Blame me if you want, but don’t be like this. Mom missed you so much these past three years. She thought about you all the time. If you act like this, she’ll be heartbroken,” Evan said.
Sierra coldly watched. How utterly ridiculous. She had been locked away for three years, yet they acted as if she were the ungrateful one.
“Enough already. You’ve barely stepped foot in the house, and you’re already ruining the mood. Can you stop?” Sean snapped impatiently. “Hurry up and apologize to Mom.”
Sierra smiled slightly and looked at Sean. “Didn’t Mr. Xander already announce to the public that he had severed ties with me when I was sentenced? Why should I apologize?”
The room fell silent. Eleanor seemed to want to speak but couldn’t find the words. Finally, Bradley said, “The company’s stocks were plummeting at the time. Dad had no choice but to make a temporary decision. We’ll restore everything later, don’t worry.” He continued, “Alright, you must be tired. Go upstairs, take a shower, and then come down for dinner.”
His tone had softened. If Sierra hadn’t mentioned it, he might have forgotten. When news of their family’s involvement in an unlicensed hit-and-run broke, the company’s stocks plummeted. Franklin had publicly cut ties with Sierra—Bradley’s idea—planning to reinstate her later. But they’d simply forgotten.
Bradley glanced at Sierra, feeling an unfamiliar guilt. But more unsettling was her expression. The admiration, the longing—gone. Now, she looked at them with nothing. That emptiness unsettled him.
Sierra ignored them and followed a servant upstairs. She couldn’t wait to wash off the dust and grime. But seeing the clothes prepared for her, she fell silent. They were Denise’s style: frilly, lacy, cute—things she had never liked. Her wardrobe had always been like this. Initially, she’d thought it was her mother’s affection, but these were Denise’s hand-me-downs. Every season, Denise received the latest collections; whatever she didn’t want was given to Sierra. This time, she wouldn't wear secondhand clothes.
After her shower, Sierra changed back into her old clothes. Downstairs, the Xander family sat at the dining table, supposedly celebrating her return, but they were all busy serving Denise. Only when Sierra sat did Eleanor realize they had forgotten her. For once, guilt flickered in Eleanor’s eyes. Seeing Sierra’s clothes, she asked, “Why didn’t you change? Was the size wrong?”
“Yeah,” Sierra replied simply.
“Oh, that’s my fault! I figured you and Denny were about the same size, so I thought they would fit.”
About the same size? Sierra was half a head taller than Denise. Had Eleanor never noticed the clothes were always too short? Sierra scoffed. “Madam Eleanor, it’s not your fault. I ate and slept well in prison. I must have grown taller. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t know.”
Silence fell. Clang. Denise’s fork dropped. Her face went pale with fear. Eleanor immediately comforted her. “It’s okay, Denny.”
Bradley’s voice turned cold. “Don’t talk about that place. Denny gets scared.”
Mentioning prison made Denise anxious. They worried about her. But had they ever considered how Sierra had survived those three years? Sierra smiled mockingly. So this is how biased a heart could be. She looked at the family, focused on comforting Denise. Irony flashed in her eyes. Without saying anything more, she began eating. The food wasn’t at fault. It had been a long time since she had eaten a proper meal.
When the Xander family finally noticed, they saw Sierra eating rapidly, unbothered by their neglect. This version of Sierra was unfamiliar. In the past, she’d been hyper-aware of their moods, panicking if they frowned, constantly trying to please them. She wouldn't relax until they smiled. This change was unsettling.
Bradley was about to speak when his eyes fell on her wrist. A long, ugly scar ran across her skin. Without thinking, he blurted out, “What happened to your hand?”