Chapter 509 Do You Really Not Care Anymore


    Jean’d tried texting Dalton.


    Every message vanished into silence.


    There was never a single reply.


    +8 Pearls


    It felt like he had disappearedpletely–either he’d stopped using his old ount or deliberately cut ties with them.


    Just like that, they lost all contact with Dalton.


    No one knew where he was now, or how he was doing.


    She could only hope the rumors were true, that he had gone abroad to receive proper treatment.


    What surprised Jean most, though, was Winston’s attitude toward it all.


    <i>I’d </i><i>thought </i><i>he </i><i>would </i><i>be </i><i>the </i><i>type </i><i>to </i><i>fixate </i><i>on </i><i>Dalton</i><i>, </i><i>to </i><i>chase </i><i>after </i><i>a </i><i>response</i><i>, </i><i>to </i><i>need </i><i>some </i>sort <i>of </i><i>closure</i><i>. </i><b><i>But- </i></b>


    <i>Winston </i><i>seemed </i><ipletely calm</i>.


    <i>Whenever </i><i>he </i><i>talked </i><i>about </i><i>Dalton</i><i>, </i><i>his </i><i>expression </i>was <i>unnervingly </i><iposed</i><i>, </i><i>almost </i><i>detached</i><i>. </i><i>Even </i><i>his </i><i>eyes </i><i>held </i><i>a distant</i>, <i>frosty </i><i>stillness</i>.


    <i>It </i><i>was </i>like<i>… </i>he <i>didn’t </i><i>care </i><i>at </i><i>all</i><i>. </i>


    <i>But </i>did <i>he </i><i>really </i><i>not </i><i>care</i><i>? </i>


    “I haven’t heard anything about him.” Winston’s voice came through the phone, smooth and indifferent.


    He sounded like he didn’t want to talk about it at all.


    So Jean didn’t push it either. She just sighed softly and said, “He’s unbelievable. It’s been so long, and we still don’t know if he’s doing okay.”


    There was no reply.


    Winston went quiet for a long while.


    Then, atst, he said softly, “Let’s stop here for today. I’ll call you another time.”


    “Okay.” She hung up.


    Over the next few days, Sienna and a few of the brothers reached out, asking about Jean’s college ns.


    Since she’d already made up her mind, she just told them the truth-


    She was going to Steford Academy.


    On the day she submitted her college choices, she got a text from Asher.


    Asher: “Did you submit your choices yet?”


    Jean raised a brow and quickly typed <b>back- </b>


    <b>12:58 </b><b>Sat</b>, <b>12 </b><b>Jul </b>


    Chapter 509 Do You Really Not Care Anymore


    Jean: “Why? Thinking of applying to the same college as me?”


    It was mostly just a joke, something yful.


    But he replied almost instantly.


    Asher: “Yes.”


    Jean stared at the screen, eyes frozen for a moment.


    <i>Was </i><i>he </i><i>serious</i>?


    Did he really want <i>to </i><i>go </i><i>to </i><i>the </i>same <i>school </i><i>as </i>me<i>? </i>


    She tried to recall the plot of the novel.


    <i>If </i><i>I </i><i>remembered </i>correctly<i>, </i><i>Asher</i><i>–</i><i>the </i><i>male </i><i>lead</i>–<i>was </i><i>also </i><i>enrolled </i><i>at </i><i>Steford </i>Academy.


    <i>Of </i><i>course </i><i>he </i><i>was</i>. <i>That’s </i><i>how </i>he <i>met </i><i>Sarah</i>. <i>That’s </i><i>how </i><i>the </i><i>story </i><i>moved </i><i>forward</i>.


    <b>+8 </b><b>Pearls </b>


    But in <i>the </i><i>original </i><i>timeline</i><i>, </i><i>Asher </i><i>went </i><i>there </i><i>because </i><i>he </i><i>got </i><i>in </i><i>on </i><i>his </i>own<i>, </i><i>not </i><i>because </i>of <i>anyone </i>else. He <i>never </i><b><i>cared </i></b>what <i>Jean </i>did<i>, </i>let <i>alone </i><i>followed </i><i>her </i><i>to </i><i>college</i>.


    Her thoughts began to drift.


    <i>What </i><i>if </i><i>I </i>didn’t <i>go </i><i>to </i><i>Steford</i><i>? </i><i>What if </i><i>I </i><i>convinced </i><i>Asher </i><i>to </i><i>go </i><i>to </i><i>another </i><i>school </i><i>instead</i>?


    <i>Would </i><i>that </i><ipletely </i><i>rewrite </i><i>the </i><i>entire </i><i>storyline</i><i>? </i>


    The idea amused her, but she knew she wouldn’t do it.


    Jean: “Steford Academy it is. Not considering anywhere else.”


    She fired off the message.


    Asher: “Perfect. That’s what I was thinking too.”


    Jean: “Pfft… Be honest. You’d already made up your mind. You just texted to act like you care what I think.”


    He didn’t reply immediately this time.


    About thirty seconds passed before Jean heard the notification sound.


    Asher: “I was leaning toward Steford, yeah. But I hadn’t made the final call. I wanted to know where you were going first.”


    Her chest warmed as she read that.


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