"What are you doing?" Clara had just groped her way into the study when she heard the sound of papers turning. Her heart tightened, and she instinctively walked towards the desk.
Vanessa ignored her and instead picked up the top manuscript. In front of Liam, she tore the page in half with a sharp tear.
The crisp tearing sound was like a knife, stabbing deeply into Clara's heart.
“Vanessa!” Clara’s voice suddenly rose, trembling with despair, “Stop! That’s my manuscript!”
"Your manuscript?" Vanessa scoffed, her hands continuing to tear page after page, shredded paper falling to the floor like snowflakes. "It's yours now, but it'll be nothing later. What's the point of keeping this trash?"
She even lifted her foot and stomped hard on the scraps of paper, the sole of her shoe crushing the writing, turning seven years of hard work into unrecognizable pieces: "From now on, my designs will be the best, Liam's company will only use my designs, and your junk should be thrown into the trash can!"
"No--"
Clara lunged forward frantically, trying to protect the remaining manuscripts. But her blurred vision made it difficult to discern directions, and she slipped on the shredded paper, falling heavily to the floor. Her forehead slammed against the corner of the desk, a sharp pain shooting through her, and warm blood trickled down her brow bone, blurring her vision.
She raised her hand to cover her forehead, bright red blood seeping through her fingers, her voice hoarse and almost incoherent: "Liam... that's my life's work... make her stop..."
Liam finally put down the documents and stood up, but instead of going to Clara who was covered in blood, he rushed over and pulled Vanessa into his arms, as if afraid that she would suffer any grievances.
"Enough! Clara!" His voice was harsh and stern, his eyes showing not a trace of pity, only overwhelming impatience. "It's just a few pieces of scrap paper! Why are you going crazy like this? What if you scare Vanessa?"
Clara was stunned.
She raised her head, gazing through her blurred, bloodshot vision at that familiar yet unfamiliar figure. The pain in her forehead and fingertips paled in comparison to even a fraction of the pain in her heart.