Chapter 3

Claire didn't wait to see if Ethan had caught it. She let the paper slip through her fingers and started toward the stairs.

Ethan looked at the paper on the floor, his expression turning stormy. "Claire, don't push your luck," he barked, warning clear in his tone.

Emily tried to calm him down. "Ethan, don't be mad. Claire must be jealous. Let me talk to her, okay?"

Claire had already stormed back to the master bedroom, her chest heaving with anger.

She yanked out her suitcase, tossed in a few outfits, and grabbed it, ready to head downstairs and get out.

The divorce was only a week away, and she refused to spend another second in this house, playing the audience to Ethan and Emily's little love story.

As soon as Claire stepped out of the room with her suitcase, she saw Emily already on the second floor.

When Emily spotted the suitcase in Claire's hand, she rushed over. "Claire, where are you going?

"Ethan's really happy and anxious about me after I finally woke up. He didn't mean to ignore how you feel. Please don't be mad. Let me apologize for him, okay?

"If you don't want me here, please don't go. I'll leave right now."

Tears streaming down her face, she reached out, trying to grab the suitcase from Claire.

Claire frowned and pulled the suitcase behind her, dodging Emily's hand. "This isn't about you. Ethan and I are splitting up anyway—"

As they struggled, Claire's hand brushed against Emily's.

It was a light touch, but Emily suddenly stumbled back, like she'd been shoved hard. She went tumbling down the stairs like a rag doll, flung helplessly from step to step.

Downstairs, Ethan's face twisted in sheer terror. "Emily!"

Claire had never seen him look that scared in her life. She reached out, grasping at empty air, but it was too late. She could only watch in horror.

Emily hit the floor, her forehead gashed open and bleeding.

Ethan rushed over, panic written all over his face, and pulled her into his arms. "Emily, don't be scared. You're going to be okay. I'll get you to the hospital right now."

Emily leaned weakly against him, her voice barely a whisper. "Don't blame Claire. She didn't mean to push me."

Ethan shot Claire a look so cold and sharp it felt like daggers.

Claire's face drained of all color. "I didn't push her," she explained, her voice barely a tremor.

But Ethan, of course, didn't believe a single word. He gave Claire an icy, hard stare. "You really expect me to believe that a woman who just woke up from a month-long coma would risk her life to frame you? Are you honestly that delusional?"

Emily, clinging weakly to him, looked at Claire with red-rimmed eyes. "Claire, I don't blame you. I know you didn't mean it. Apologize and it'll be fine."

Claire stared at Ethan and Emily, her eyes full of stubbornness. "But I didn't do anything wrong."

Emily's face fell, disappointment written all over it.

Ethan's eyes grew colder. "If you're so sure it wasn't you, why don't you throw yourself down the stairs and prove it?"

Claire stared at him, her face drained of all color. "So, if I throw myself down the stairs, will you finally believe me?"

Ethan didn't say a word. He just stared at her coldly, waiting.

Claire let out a bitter smile. "Fine."

Then she turned and threw herself over the edge. The world became a blur of spinning shadows until her head slammed against the floor. Blood pooled, streaming into her eyes, and her vision went crimson in an instant.

Emily cried out, "Ethan, go check on Claire. She's hurt."

Ethan stood above Claire, looking down at her sprawled on the floor, a mess, and snorted coldly, "Serves you right."

Without another glance at Claire, he carried Emily out the door, heading straight for the hospital.

Claire lay on the floor, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. 'No matter what I do, he'll never believe me.'