Chapter 55: Late Concern Means Nothing

Jonathan hadn't even responded when Sierra suddenly let out a laugh.

“Pfft. Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

She said she was sorry, but there wasn’t the slightest hint of apology in her expression. Instead, she looked at Evan with pure ridicule.

“I just think it’s funny. Evan, since when did you care so much about me? Where was all this concern when I actually needed it? Oh, and you do know prisons are full of psychos, right?”

Evan’s face turned pale.

“Shut up! What nonsense are you talking about?”

His voice was unsteady; he was flustered. Was he embarrassed that Sierra was making a scene in front of an outsider, or was he afraid of what she might reveal?

He knew she had been bullied in prison, beaten, nearly killed. But he had never considered the possibility that she might have been… No. It was a women’s prison. That couldn’t have happened… right?

Seeing his face lose all color, Sierra’s mood softened a little. She stepped past him and murmured as she passed, “You didn’t care before. You definitely don’t need to care now. I don’t need your fake concern, and you don’t need to pat yourself on the back.”

She left without looking back. Behind her, Evan stood there, shaken. Yaron, too, looked unsettled. He had never known what Sierra had gone through in prison. Had it really been that bad? How could that be? She was their biological daughter. Surely the Xander family wouldn’t have just abandoned her.

He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Evan, is it true? You didn’t have anyone looking out for her? She was barely eighteen when she went in. She wouldn’t have been able to survive on her own.”

Evan opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything. They had all forgotten. When Sierra was sent to prison, she had just turned eighteen. Back then, all their attention had been on Denise—because Denise had killed someone. She had nightmares; she was scared. They took turns staying by her side every night. But they had completely forgotten about their real sister, left alone in a dark cell.

Yaron saw the look in Evan’s eyes and understood instantly. His expression twisted in disgust.

So it was true. Is this too much?

At first, they had all thought Sierra was adopted. When the truth came out, everyone assumed the Xander family would make it up to her. But they had abandoned their own flesh and blood in prison for three years—without even looking back.

Evan caught Yaron’s accusing glare and felt a stab of irritation. His face darkened. “Stay away from both of my sisters.” Neither Denise nor Sierra was someone Yaron was allowed to touch.

Yaron’s face flickered, but he still answered, “I understand, Evan.”

“By the way, if this research succeeds—”

Evan cut him off with a sneer. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my word. We’re already making progress. Once the project is complete, your name will be on it.”

“Thank you, Evan.” Yaron quickly expressed his gratitude. But as soon as Evan walked away, the polite smile vanished from his face. It was his research concept, yet Evan acted like he was giving out charity. But the project itself…

Yaron glanced toward the closed lab doors, feeling a little uneasy. Would Sierra really keep working on it? Jonathan couldn’t possibly keep helping her. And even if he did, neither of them would dare to make it public. After all, if a professor helped a student with their research and put the student’s name on it, that was fraud. No matter how respected Jonathan was, he wouldn’t risk his career for Sierra.

Inside the lab, Sierra had already put on her lab coat and begun her work. Jonathan followed her in, but he didn’t interfere. He leaned against the table, long legs crossed casually, arms folded, completely at ease. His sharp gaze stayed on Sierra’s hands, watching her every movement, analyzing as she worked. She really was going against conventional methods. He was looking forward to seeing what kind of results she would produce. That was why he kept helping her. He didn’t want her wasting energy on unnecessary distractions. She should be focusing on this. Watching her precise, fluid movements, Jonathan found the sight oddly satisfying. At some point, his eyes drifted from her hands to her face.