Chapter 8: Suffering

When Sierra returned to the hospital, Yulia was gone, only her grandmother remaining. Sitting by the bedside, Sierra pondered the doctor's grim prognosis: her grandmother, ill for years, was in organ failure, with perhaps only a couple of years left. The doctor urged her to prepare, to comply with the old woman's wishes. Sierra gripped her grandmother's hand, terrified of losing her only remaining family. "Grandma, please… hold on," she whispered. She knew she could make medicine to help; pulling out her phone, she logged into a research forum. It was a trove of information—requests for help, answers, even bounties—but she needed a lab. A university lab would be ideal, but inaccessible. Creating a new account (Tano was too well-known, and her probation wasn't over), she posted a request to rent a lab, specifying the equipment and six-month duration. The price: seven hundred thousand dollars. It was exorbitant, but necessary; labs with her required equipment were rare, and their owners were cautious.

Meanwhile, Cameron had investigated Madam Lily's situation and reported to Bradley: "That family took the money and went to a small hospital for the amputation. The surgery was botched, and the wound became badly infected. She was sent back to the main hospital and… she isn't doing well." Bradley's expression darkened. He hadn't realized the extent of Madam Lily's suffering; no wonder Sierra was furious. Cameron hesitated, then continued: "I also looked into what happened in prison." Bradley's gaze sharpened. "Speak." Cameron's voice was strained: "Over the past three years, Miss Xander was sent to the hospital four times. The first time, ten days after imprisonment, her forearm was slashed, exposing bone. She was hospitalized for half a month. Two months later, her collarbone was fractured—something heavy fell on her—and she was hospitalized for a month. Then, her cell caught fire; she inhaled dangerous amounts of smoke, severely damaging her throat, nearly silencing her. The last time, about half a year later… she slit her own veins. Massive blood loss; she almost didn't make it." His voice trailed off, witnessing Bradley's darkening face. "After that, things improved; Miss Xander suffered no further injuries."

"Enough!" Bradley exploded. "Why didn't we know about this?" Cameron mumbled, "You… told us not to. You said that even if she died, it had nothing to do with you." Bradley was momentarily speechless. He recalled the Xander Group's plummeting stock, the pressure from investors, the frantic crisis management. He remembered a call about Sierra's injuries and his own callous response: "We've already cut ties with her. Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with us. Don't call me again!" Guilt overwhelmed him. He hadn't known; by the time the stock stabilized, Sierra had been imprisoned for months. Then he remembered attempting to "handle things." His voice sharpened: "Didn't I tell you to take care of her? How did this still happen? I even told you to check on her—how did you not know?" Cameron explained, "I was going to visit Miss Xander, but Miss Denise asked if she could go instead. I gave her the slot. Only one person is allowed at a time. I handed things over to Miss Denise to pass on to Warden Watson."

Bradley was stunned. Denise had visited Sierra? Why hadn't she reported the severity of Sierra's situation? He couldn't dwell on Denise's involvement now; Sierra's cold expression earlier filled him with guilt. "Get to the hospital," he ordered. He would find the best doctors, personally oversee her care.

Meanwhile, Sierra's lab rental post yielded few responses. Some suggested The Xander Group's superior lab, mentioning Mr. Evan, a university professor who was supposedly easy to approach. Sierra scoffed. Evan? Easy to talk to? That was a lie; he was arrogant and insufferable. She wouldn't ask him for help. Then, a private message arrived—from Misty, a research collaborator who had often aided her. Even with her new account, he had reached out. He offered assistance, provided she wouldn't use the lab illegally. Warmth bloomed in Sierra's heart. He was still the same. She confirmed her intention to develop medicine, and he promised to help.

Nurses entered, announcing her grandmother's transfer to a free VIP suite, followed by a specialist team. Sierra knew it wasn't coincidence. Bradley stood outside. His gaze was complex. He entered. "I really didn't know about Madam Lily's situation," he admitted. "But don't worry. These doctors are the best. I'll make sure she's properly treated. You don't have to worry about costs—I'll cover everything. I've already ordered a top-of-the-line prosthetic. She will be able to walk again. I personally took care of everything this time."

His words felt hollow. Seeing her indifferent expression, Bradley frowned. "What do you want? Whatever it is, I'll try to make it happen," he offered, as if accusing her of ingratitude. Sierra laughed softly. "Then I want The Xander Group's lab," she said. "Will you give it to me?"