Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 407

Everyone says I'm cold by nature, impossible to get close to.

But what they don't know is that before I turned five, I was a cheerful, outgoing child who loved to talk and laugh.

Whether I was at school or at home, I was always the center of attention, the kid everyone liked.

Everything changed after my mother died. My father brought his mistress into the house-boldly, shamelessly—and from that moment on, I became a different person. Quiet. Withdrawn. The brightness in me faded, replaced by a dark cloud that never really left.

Back then, I was too young to hide my feelings, too honest to pretend. I acted, spoke, and reacted according to whatever I felt inside.

If I felt even the slightest bit upset, I'd lash out at my father's mistress without holding back.

Once, I even pushed her down the stairs-she lost the baby she was carrying.

I was just a child, but I threatened her with a knife once, saying, "I'm a minor. Even if I killed you, I wouldn't go to jail."

She hated me for it. Hated me so much she probably dreamed of killing me herself.

At first, she thought dealing with a five-year-old would be easy. She never expected I'd use my age as a shield, or that I could be so terrifying, even as a child.

After that day with the knife, she was so afraid of me that every time we crossed paths, she'd freeze, trembling like a mouse confronted by a cat.

I wasn't just making threats-I

my instincts, doing whatever it took to

hurt me, I would drag them down with me, even if it

that kept my stepmother from ever laying a finger on me.

sharp edges.

saying I was

knew the truth: when it came to my enemies, I would do whatever it

me as a child, became even more fearful once I

go on like this-steady, uneventful, untouched

to Cresthaven and met

life-

She changed everything.

the first time I saw her-how deep an impression she

pale as snow. She looked so delicate, as if the lightest breeze could knock

moment, how our lives would become so tangled. I

that, she was in trouble-bruised, battered, struggling just

I had no patience for their tears or

But Claire was different.

miserable luck, or maybe it was just something about her that made me

spark of pity grew into a burning need to know everything about

when finally