Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 313

Vincent huddled in the shadowy alley beside an overflowing dumpster.

“Claire, I let you down.”

This is what I deserve.

So this is what it feels like to have your leg shattered—a pain so sharp it robs you of breath.

So this is what it feels like to be despised by everyone—shame curling up, small and cold, inside your chest.

So this is what it’s like to go hungry—each ache in your stomach a fresh reminder of your failure.

Back then, when I was about to start college, you worked yourself to the bone, Claire. Even though you were drowning in schoolwork, you threw yourself into every competition, determined to win first place and the scholarship that came with it—every cent of which you gave to me.

And now, just like before, you left me most of your money, keeping barely enough for yourself.

Claire… have you forgiven me?

Memories flickered through Vincent’s mind, scenes from their years together at the orphanage—Claire’s eyes always bright with trust when she looked at him.

She’d follow him everywhere, like a little shadow, and he’d sworn he would always protect her.

The tears came before he realized it.

“If I’d known it would come to this, maybe I never should’ve studied law,” he whispered. “Maybe if I hadn’t become a lawyer, it wouldn’t have ended this way between us.”

He sat there mumbling to himself for a long time before finally tearing open the bread and eating it in big, desperate bites.

Claire, for your sake if nothing else, I have to pull myself together.

……

Claire and May returned to the Foster house.

Mrs. Foster was sitting on the couch arranging flowers. As soon as she saw Claire come in, she set everything aside, her face lighting up with a warm, grandmotherly smile. “Claire, you’re home!”

Claire had already composed herself before stepping through the door, a cheerful smile fixed on her face.

“Hi, Grandma.”

But Mrs. Foster’s smile faltered the instant she got a good look at Claire. Concern clouded her eyes.

“Claire, your eyes are so red! Have you been crying? Did someone upset you? Tell me, darling—let Grandma take care of it.”

Just as the tears threatened to fall, Mrs. Foster administered the drops.

The cool liquid hit her eyes and, under its cover, Claire’s tears finally spilled over.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Mrs. Foster asked anxiously.

Grace and May hurried to her side, all three faces peering down at Claire with concern.

Claire quickly put on a nonchalant front. “The drops are really cold.”

Mrs. Foster let out a relieved sigh. “There, there. Be brave—once I’m done, your eyes will feel better.”

Claire smiled up at her, eyes never leaving the old woman’s face.

Mrs. Foster applied another round of drops, but each time, tears mingled with the medicine and trickled down Claire’s cheeks.

Puzzled, Mrs. Foster asked, “Why do they keep streaming out like that?”

“Maybe my eyes just don’t like water,” Claire quipped.

Mrs. Foster couldn’t help but laugh. “You silly girl—you always know how to make me smile.”