Chapter 305: The Weight of Consequences

Mr. Wynn let out a long sigh, clearly deciding to change the subject. “You don’t come back often. Let’s not dwell on that. You haven’t played a game of chess with your grandfather in a long time. Come on—let’s play.”

Johnathan naturally didn’t refuse. As the two began their quiet game, Sierra received a call from Autumn.

“I just got off the phone with Professor Martin—he’s sick. We’re going to visit him at the hospital. You coming?”

“Of course.”

After hanging up, Sierra texted Johnathan and went to meet Autumn and the others. When they arrived at the hospital, Professor Martin was still hooked up to an IV. He looked much weaker than usual. His health wasn’t failing due to any physical injury, but from the sheer mental stress he’d endured lately—especially after what happened with Azure. It had broken him.

“You’re all here,” Professor Martin said, motioning for them to sit. “I told you not to bother. You should be home with your noses in your books. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I won’t be testing you. I’ll be doing spot checks soon. If I find out you’ve been slacking off, don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

That one line sent a collective chill through the group. Especially Autumn—she already looked like she wanted to sprint home and hit the books.

“Please rest, Professor,” Sierra said softly.

It was hard to see him like this. He’d always been kind to Azure—maybe even too kind. And now this. They all knew what this likely meant: Professor Martin wouldn’t be allowed to supervise any students anymore. Azure’s actions had pulled him down with him. That much was obvious. The group had already submitted an appeal to the university, asking them to reconsider, but no response had come yet. They didn’t want to lose a teacher like him. None of them did.

“I had a visit from Azure’s parents a few days ago,” Professor Martin said suddenly. “They wanted my help.”

He paused. His voice lowered. “They even knelt in front of me.”

Despite everything, he sounded more heartbroken than angry. “I taught that boy for years. I thought his family wasn’t well-off, but never poor to the point of desperation. Turns out, he came from a rural town—so far away from the capital, it takes four or five connections just to get here.”

No wonder Azure almost never went home. Any time he was asked, he’d just say his parents were busy. Maybe they just didn’t have the money.

“They’re just a couple of simple, uneducated folks,” he went on. “They don’t understand what it means to compromise national security. To them, their son made a mistake, and I’m the teacher—so I should be able to fix it.”

Even after he tried to explain it to them, they didn’t understand. They just kept repeating the same thing.

“Azure always said you were amazing. That you were the best teacher. He wanted to be just like you.”

At that point, Professor Martin had nothing left to say. When he finished speaking, the room went quiet. Then he turned to Sierra.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You were the one hurt most by all this. As a teacher, I shouldn’t take sides. But I made mistakes too. That’s why I pleaded for him.”

He didn’t tell her this to make excuses, or ask her for forgiveness. He told her so she wouldn’t hear it from someone else.

“I understand, Professor,” Sierra replied, voice low.

Azure had been one of his first students—he’d mentored him like a son. Sierra could understand that much. But that didn’t mean she’d forgive, or help.

They thought it was over after that. But just as they left the hospital, two people stopped them. More accurately, they stopped Sierra. It was Azure’s parents. Somehow, someone had told them that Sierra was responsible for what happened to their son. The moment they saw her, they dropped to their knees.

“Please,” his mother begged, clutching Sierra’s leg, “let our boy go!”

They were right in front of the hospital entrance, where people came and went nonstop. The commotion drew a crowd almost instantly, and many bystanders had already pulled out their phones to record.

“I have nothing to do with Azure’s case,” Sierra said. “I don’t know who told you otherwise, but I can’t help you.”

She didn’t want to say anything more. She tried to sidestep them and leave, but Azure’s parents refused to let her go. His mother clung to her like a lifeline, her arms locked around Sierra’s leg, refusing to let her go.

Not again. Why do people always think if they cry loud enough, kneel long enough, it’ll erase everything their children have done?

Sierra gritted her teeth, standing still as the phones kept recording and the whispers around her grew louder. She wasn’t going to break down—not here, not now. And she definitely wasn’t going to forgive.