Chapter 110
The next day dawned with the gentle light of moming filtering through the cracks in the window, casting a soft glow on Claire’s hospital bed. After a night of rest, she felt the dull ache in her head had subsided somewhat, and her foggy mind was clearer.
Slowly, she got out of bed, hoping to get some fresh air. But as soon as she stepped into the hallway, a familiar, lilting voice reached her
Claire glanced up
see Vanessa and Vincent walking side by side, laughing and chatting. Vanessa was dressed in a white sundress, her face adomed with a subtle, natural makeup look, and her forehead wrapped in a thick bandage. She exuded an air of innocent fragility, the kind that instinctively awakened a protective instinct in others.
Upon spotting Claire, Vanessa’s smile froze, panic flickering in her eyes. Her body trembled slightly as she timidly addressed her, “Sister” Vincent seemed taken aback to see Claire in the hallway, his expression a mix of guilt and a hint of unspoken pity
Claire remained calm. To her, these two were a perfect pair one deceitful and pretentious, the other cold and insincere. She paused only for a moment before continuing on her way, as if she hadn’t noticed them at all.
Vanessa bit her lip, feigning fear, yet tried to maintain her composure. In a soft, gentle voice, she asked, “Sister, are you feeling better? Vincent and I came to visit you. May I ask where you’re heading?”
Claire had no intention of engaging with her, but Vanessa persisted, clearly trying to provoke her.
As Vanessa approached, Claire stepped closer, and before Vanessa could react, Claire raised her hand and slapped her hard across the -face
The slap sent Vanessa staggering, her carefully applied makeup smudged by the force, and a vivid red handprint appeared on her pale cheek.
Vincent quickly caught Vanessa around the waist, steadying her as he pushed Claire back, his face contorted with anger. “Claire, you’ve gone too far! Vanessa came here to check on you, and you hit her without even trying to understand the situation. What are you trying to do?”
His voice, raised in anger, echoed down the hallway, drawing curious glances from passing medical staff.
Claire stumbled from Vincent’s shove, and her temper flared. She stormed forward and slapped Vincent hard across the face. The slap was shan shock
sharp and loud, so much so that Claire’s hand stung from the impact. Vincent’s face turned to the side, his eyes wide with
Claire shook her hand, unfazed. “How dare you question me? should be asking what Vanessa’s doing here. She knows I can’t stand her, yet she insists on coming to provoke me. Why shouldn’t I hit her?”
“And you, she continued, glaring at Vincent, “what right do you have to question me?”
Vincent turned back to her, his eyes filled with disbelief and unfamiliarity. The Claire he remembered was sweet, kind–hearted, and full of sunshine. She used to follow him around, calling him “Vincent” with admiration.8
She once said, “Vincent is my hero. With you by
my side, I’m not afraid of anything.”
But now, the same lips that once praised him spoke with biting disdain.
Vincent stared at Claire as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes reflecting shock and unfamiliarity. “Claire, how did you become so unreasonable? Five years in prison, and you still don’t understand that hitting people is illegal?”
He tried to invoke the law to suppress Claire, but there was a slight tremor in his voice.
“Is that so?” Claire challenged, lifting her chin defiantly. “Then why doesn’t Attorney Lewis take me to court?”
