The words "sleeping pills" struck Clara like a thunderbolt, leaving her frozen in place. She finally understood why she had slept for so long, and why she had woken up with a splitting headache—that glass of milk wasn't a "gift of forgiveness" at all, but a tool her daughter had used to scheme against her! She turned to Liam in disbelief, her voice trembling, "What did Lila just say? You know?"
A flicker of panic crossed Liam's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. He reached out to pull Clara's arm, his tone casually indulgent: "There's a parent-child activity at kindergarten today. If you go looking like this, the other kids will laugh at Lila. Your daughter has self-esteem too. You're her mother, you certainly won't hold a grudge over something like this." He paused, as if bestowing some favor: "However, it was definitely wrong of her to give you sleeping pills. I've already criticized her, so please don't dwell on it."
"You criticized her?" Clara felt a wave of suffocation. Looking at Liam's familiar face, she suddenly felt utterly alienated. "Liam, is this how you raise your daughter? Teaching her to use sleeping pills to scheme against her own mother? What's wrong with my appearance? I only became like this because I developed hormonal imbalance after giving birth to her!"
Seven years of forbearance, grievances, and resentment erupted completely at this moment. Clara grabbed the remaining dishes on the table and smashed them on the ground—"Smash!" Ceramic shards flew everywhere, and soup splashed onto Liam's suit pants, leaving a messy stain.
"Clara, what's wrong with you!" Liam's gaze was as cold as ice. "Lila is still young and doesn't understand things. Can't you be a little more tolerant? Besides, Teacher Vanessa is right here. Don't be unreasonable!"
"Nonsense?" Clara laughed angrily, tears finally streaming down her face, her voice trembling with rage. "Fine, I'll leave! I'll leave right now and never get in your way again!"