She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 4

Quiana tugged on his sleeve and said miserably, “Loyce is just in a bad mood—that’s why she’s late. You guys should talk to the advisor. If she gets kicked off the project, how is she supposed to hold her head up at school? No other professor will take her. She won’t even graduate.”

Her voice begged, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. She wanted to see how long Loyce could keep acting tough. If she couldn’t graduate, she’d have no choice but to come crawling back.-

But Loyce didn’t react the way Quiana expected. Her answer was clean and blunt. “Perfect. I wasn’t planning to stay, anyway. I’m not participating in the rest of the research. I emailed my withdrawal request this morning. Tell him to sign it.”

She’d only come because the lab still had her Nexo-7 compound, something she’d been cultivating for a long time—part of her work toward a targeted treatment for rare genetic illnesses.

Quiana’s face stiffened. “You’re leaving the group?”

Loyce nodded and tried to walk past them, but Quiana grabbed her wrist. “Loyce, stop. The project’s already in the mid-to-late stage. And we still have the medical competition coming up. We’re a team. I’m not letting you quit whenever you feel like it.”

One of the senior students frowned. “Quiana, even if she’s your sister, you can’t keep covering for her like this.”

Loyce raised an eyebrow, staring at Quiana. “You’re doing this for me?”

Quiana nodded hard. “Of course.”

Loyce almost laughed. “With the pathetic work you’ve got going, I’ve spent half a year carrying you and you still can’t produce results. If I don’t quit, what—am I supposed to believe you people can suddenly pull yourselves together?”

The advisor had been trying to push a breakthrough combining clinical medicine and AI. An entire medical archive room’s worth of materials had been organized, indexed, and summarized by Loyce alone. She’d set the direction and handled the actual implementation. The rest of them just trailed behind her like kindergarteners stepping in a teacher’s footprints. Without her, they’d struggle to keep even their current pace.

“You’re not my family. Why would I keep carrying dead weight like you?” Loyce said, tapping Quiana’s cheek with casual contempt.

Quiana’s eyes reddened, tears trembling at the lashes—half outrage, half disbelief. Ever since Loyce left home that night, it was like she’d become a different person: bold, sharp, and no longer controllable.

One of the senior students snapped, “Loyce! You seriously think the research can’t continue without you? If Quiana hadn’t begged for you back then, you wouldn’t have even gotten into this group!”

He stepped forward as if to shove Loyce. But before his hand even touched her, Loyce caught his arm and twisted hard.

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