Clara was still frozen in place, her knuckles white from clenching her fists so tightly. Noah's cries still echoed in the living room. Vanessa held the child and wiped away her tears, but her eyes would occasionally glance at her, as if to confirm the outcome of this "victory." Liam squatted beside Vanessa, carefully examining Noah's wrist. The so-called "wound" was just a shallow scratch made by the child himself, oozing a little blood, but he treated it as a big deal, his tone full of heartache: "Don't be afraid, Noah, Daddy will take you to disinfect it, it will be healed soon."
Just then, there was a sudden, crisp, creaking sound nearby —a nearly two-meter-tall walnut shelf, upon which sat the ceramic ornaments Vanessa had brought when she moved in, and the vintage clock that Liam had promised to "fix" a few days ago but hadn't gotten around to. Perhaps the child had bumped into the brackets while running around, or perhaps it was simply too full, but the entire shelf suddenly tipped forward, sending the ceramic vases and clock crashing down with a clatter.
"Be careful!" Clara's instinct was faster than her thinking. She even forgot about her ankle injury and staggered to hold the shelf, but before she touched the wooden edge, a dark shadow suddenly pushed her away.
It's Liam.
He acted as if he hadn't noticed Clara standing next to him. He threw himself at Vanessa and her son, one hand protecting the back of Vanessa's head, the other holding Noah tightly in his arms, using his back to block the falling ceramic shards. With a "bang", the clock hit his back, shattering the dial. The glass shards splashed on the back of Clara's hand, leaving a thin streak of blood.
Clara stumbled backwards, her back slamming against the cold wall. Her sprained ankle instantly sent a sharp pain through her, and she gasped in pain, barely able to stand, holding onto the wall. But she ignored her own injuries, her gaze fixed on Liam—he was bending down to check Vanessa's hair, his voice filled with panic: "Vanessa, are you okay? Are you hurt? Did the debris touch you?"
Vanessa shook her head, her eyes red, but with a hint of hidden pride: "I'm fine, I just scared Noah. Liam, thank goodness I have you..."
"It's okay, it's okay." Liam breathed a sigh of relief, turned to Noah in his arms, and gently wiped the tears from his face. "Don't be afraid, Noah, Daddy will protect you. Stay away from that guy from now on, okay?"
Noah nodded, but suddenly pointed at Clara and cried, "It's all her fault! She just had an argument with Mom and that's why the shelf fell! Dad, look at my hand, and Mom almost got hit!"
Liam followed the child's finger to look at Clara, his eyes instantly cold. He didn't notice the blood on the back of her hand, nor did he see her leaning against the wall, her face pale. He only saw her standing next to the pile of debris, like the "culprit." "Clara," his voice was full of disappointment, even with a hint of rebuke, "I told you not to lose your temper, why are you still holding it against Vanessa? Now you almost hit them and their child, are you satisfied?"
Clara looked at him, at his back as he protected Vanessa, at the disgust in his eyes for her, and suddenly found it ridiculous. She had clearly wanted to warn them, had nearly fallen down after being bumped by him, and her hand was bleeding, but in his eyes, she had become the one who was "deliberately causing trouble."
She looked down at the blood on the back of her hand, then at the gleaming silver object beside the shattered ornamental stand—the Bennett family brooch she'd kept on the top shelf. It had been her mother's coming-of-age gift, a token of her family's heir status. A precious sapphire nestled in a platinum base, the Bennett crest engraved on the back . Not to mention its value, that sapphire alone could buy half the Foster family's assets . When the stand toppled over, the brooch had also fallen to the ground, a crack forming on the edge of the sapphire, like her heart now, shattered beyond repair.
Clara slowly walked over, bent down, and picked up the brooch. When her fingertips touched the cold metal and the cracks, the last bit of her thought about Liam was finally extinguished. She didn't cry or argue, but simply gently stroked the cracks on the brooch with her thumb, her voice as calm as a pool of stagnant water: "Liam, you never believed me, right?"
Liam was stunned for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by her question. He frowned, his tone tinged with impatience. "I don't feel like talking to you about this right now. It's just a broken glass brooch from a street vendor. It's broken. Vanessa and Noah were frightened, so I need to take them to rest. Clean up this place yourself and reflect on your actions."
After saying that, he didn't look at Clara anymore. He carefully held Noah in his arms and helped Vanessa walk towards the bedroom. When Vanessa passed by Clara, she deliberately slowed down her pace and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Ms. Clara, face the reality. Liam has always had only me and the children in his heart. You are just a superfluous person."
Clara ignored her, holding the broken brooch, standing amidst the debris. The blood on the back of her hand continued to flow, and the pain in her ankle became more and more severe, but she could not feel it - because the pain in her heart had overwhelmed all her senses.
She walked slowly to the entrance, picked up her canvas bag, and carefully placed the brooch in the inside pocket.
The cell phone suddenly dinged, and I received a text message: The crown of the mistress of the Ethan family is waiting for the return of its future queen.
