Chapter 50: The Wildcat and the Gentleman
“Mr. Jonathan, you should go back. I’m fine,” Sierra said.
Johnathan had already spent over ten minutes bringing her here, leaving his class to the monitor for a lesson preview. Looking at the unusually obedient Sierra, he suddenly reached out and covered her eyes with his hand.
Sierra had no idea why he did that. She blinked instinctively, her lashes brushing against his palm. The faint tickling sensation sent a strange numbness up his arm. The moment felt oddly intimate. Before she could ask what he was doing, he spoke.
“Girls don’t have to be this strong,” he began, “and they won’t have to be this well-behaved either. The ones who are too obedient or accommodating are always the easiest to hurt.”
Johnathan had realized something—Sierra was like a wildcat. She looked fierce, ready to claw at anyone who wronged her, leaving them bloodied and wounded. But if someone treated her well, gave her just the smallest bit of kindness—like tossing a little meat her way—she would roll over and show her belly. Right now, she was showing him her belly. The realization made his palm feel scalding hot. He pulled his hand back quickly, almost hastily, and left.
Sierra didn’t notice anything strange about his reaction. She was still thinking about what he had just said, then let out a quiet, bitter laugh. She didn’t want to be strong—but she had no choice. No one else would be her support. She had to rely on herself.
Meanwhile, the incident at school spread like wildfire. Sierra had no idea she had become the center of gossip. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t have cared. She slept deeply, her phone buzzing multiple times beside her, but she remained unresponsive, trapped in nightmares. The same images played over and over in her mind, looping endlessly. She suddenly jolted awake—only to find an unexpected figure sitting by her bed.
“Feeling better?” Yaron asked, watching her with concern. He reached out to check if her fever had gone down, but Sierra blocked his hand.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. She had assumed that, after last time, Yaron wouldn’t dare show his face in front of her again.
“I heard you were sick and got worried. So I came to check on you,” he replied. As he spoke, he adjusted the hospital bed to help her sit up and poured her a glass of water.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the truth about a lot of things. I was stupid to believe those rumors. Sierra, I really am sorry.”
Compared to the Xander brothers, Varon was far more sincere. But the more genuine he seemed, the more suspicious Sierra became. Something wasn’t right. Now that her fever had dropped, her headache had eased, and her thoughts were clearer.
She thought about it for a moment, then said, “Is this about the Xander family? If so, you’re going to be disappointed. I’m cutting all ties with them soon.”
Varon froze for a second before a flicker of hurt flashed across his face. “Sierra, why would you think that? Yes, I admit I made mistakes before. But I’m truly apologizing now. Is that really how you see me?”
Sierra smirked. “Oh? I thought you had a clear understanding of yourself. Natural-born flirt, casting your net everywhere, stringing women along.”
With every word, Yaron’s expression darkened. Normally, if someone provoked him like this, he would have stormed off. But today, to her surprise, he held back.
“I won’t argue with you since you’re sick. Don’t make things harder for yourself. Drink some water.” He held out the glass, but Sierra didn’t even glance at it.
“What do you really want?” she asked, having no patience for pointless games. But Yaron insisted he was just worried about her. Sierra wasn’t interested in pushing the issue. She closed her eyes, trying to rest.
And then she saw her again. The girl was reaching out to her, silently begging for help. Calling out for Mom. Sierra’s fingers twitched slightly. She knew 00060’s real name. Back then, they had confided in each other, two people bound by misfortune. Her name was—Daphne. But that name alone wasn’t enough to find her. Shane would know. But she didn’t want to go to him. The price of asking Shane for help was too high. Who else could she turn to?
As she was lost in thought, the infirmary door swung open. Johnathan walked in. When he saw Yaron, his brows lifted slightly. Varon immediately stood and greeted him respectfully.
“Mr. Jonathan.”