The lost heiress never forgiven

The Lost Heiress 53

Chapter 53 The Dead and the Living

“Don’t forget, you’re my student. I have a duty to make sure you’re safe. Let’s go, or it’ll be dark soon.

Since Johnathan had put it that way, Sierra didn’t argue. She got into the car without another word.

This was her first time in this part of the city. As she looked around at the scattered trash, the homeless people lining the streets, she turned to Johnathan. Just as she expected, his brows were furrowed slightly.

Johnathan had a mild case of OCD and a preference for cleanliness. She had noticed it back at his place–everything spotless, arranged with meticulous precision. Even the book she had taken off the shelf, which she had placed back randomly, had been quietly returned to its exact original spot by him.

She had no idea how he remembered the placement of so many books, but his level of discipline was borderline terrifying-

“Mr. Johnathan, don’t go in. Just wait for me in the car,” she said.

Then she turned and walked toward the address he had given her.

A few steps in, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around–Johnathan was following.

“Let’s go.”

His lips pressed into a thin line.

This place made him uncomfortable, but there was no way he was letting Sierra go in alone.

Sierra didn’t argue. She just quickened her pace.

She felt guilty, like she was dragging a god down into the mud.

Soon, they reached Daphne’s home. Or at least, what counted as a home.

Sierra felt a lump in her throat.

house. Just a flimsy shack put together with

Daphne to have

knocked for a while, but no one

“Just go in,” Johnathan’said.

door was burely

With a little

rancid air hit

changed immediately. She rushed

later, she stumbled

minutes later, the

the one who had called it in, Sierra was taken

“You again?”

officer from the morning recognized

a

Finished

The officer asked.

drifted back to what she

body on the bed had clearly been dead for days. The air was thick 1 with the stench of

wave of nausea

officer quickly poured her a cup of hot water. “Take a

Thanks.”

a sip, steadying

had a former inmate who used to talk about her sick mother, who had been bedridden for years. She was released two years ago. I suddenly thought of it and decided to

raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear Sierra

there was nothing to hide–it was

body, and since the coroner’s preliminary assessment was that the woman had died of starvation,

“Are you alright?”

finished earlier. He handed her a cup of milk tea the moment

smiling faintly. “You expected something to