She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 82

“That Loyce is only riding on her brothers’ protection,” Leroy said bitterly. “Look at her, walking off with some stranger at a gala like it’s nothing. A woman like that, her true colors will show sooner or later.”

He leaned closer, gentler now. “Sis, your priority is the score Director Ludlow asked for. You’re going to shine at the international film music festival. Don’t waste your energy on trash like her. I’ll help you expose her.”

Sybil’s eyes, still red, drifted to the stack of manuscript paper on her desk. Something hardened in her chest. “You’re right. My talent, my training... she’ll never catch up to that. I have bigger things to do. I can’t let her distract me.”

Loyce had no idea someone was using her as motivation and pulling another all-nighter over sheet music.

By dawn, Sybil had dark circles under her eyes, but she clutched her finished work like it was treasure, practically dizzy with joy. She finally had it! She mailed the score out immediately—overnight delivery straight into Logan Ludlow’s hands.

Loyce, meanwhile, slept in, ate breakfast, and then headed to the military housing compound where she volunteered—routine checkups, refills, basic care for the older residents. But today, something felt off. People looked grim. A few stared at her like they wanted to speak, then swallowed the words. When Loyce pressed them, they only shook their heads, took their prescriptions, and left, leaving her confused.

Heath was outside tending the garden beds, pruning and watering like he always did. Hearing she’d arrived, he came down early to chat and ask her a few medical questions.

When she finally had a moment to drink some water, Loyce asked, “What’s going on with everyone today? They all look miserable.”

Heath sighed. “What else? Naval drills have been constant lately, the international situation’s tense. People are afraid war’s coming. Their sons and grandsons are deployed. Of course they’re worried.”

“I get that,” Loyce said. “But they kept looking at me like they wanted to ask something.”

Heath hesitated—clearly he knew. Loyce’s gaze sharpened. “Say it.”

He gave in. “The last couple of years have been unstable. Military doctors are already stretched thin. They’re talking about recruiting civilian physicians to the front. Except it’s dangerous, conditions at sea are brutal, and the pay isn’t great. Hardly anyone’s volunteering.”

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