Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

He'd treated Claire the way he did back then solely to protect Vanessa.

At the time, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world-a justifiable act. He never once considered that he might be in the wrong.

But looking back now, he was horrified at how cruel he'd been to a girl who was only fifteen.

And that was just what happened in the first two days after Claire came home.

For the three years she lived with them, incidents like this happened constantly- sometimes every other day.

Ethan felt as if an invisible hand had tightened around his heart, squeezing so hard he could barely breathe.

Pain twisted his face. His brows knitted together in agony, sweat beading on his forehead and mingling with the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

Ten years in prison had forced him into a strict routine, and even his chronic stomach problems had improved over time. But now, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain tore through him, just like the time he'd collapsed with a bleeding ulcer. The agony was so intense, he wished he could just pass out.

He couldn't stay upright any longer. He collapsed onto the narrow cot, curling his body in on itself, clutching the diary to his chest as bitter tears of regret spilled down his face. Over and over, he whispered, "Claire, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He had no idea how much time passed before the pain in his stomach finally subsided.

By then, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat, leaving him so weak he could barely move.

Forcing himself upright, Ethan reached with trembling hands to turn the diary's page.

---

**June 20, 2007. Sunday. Overcast.**

I've spent a week in the hospital. Today, I get to go home.

These past days, I've felt hurt and disappointed by my family.

But when I saw Mom and Dad running themselves ragged, terrified that something might happen to me, my heart softened.

Kids in the orphanage never had anyone to care when they got sick. You just lay in bed, battling illness alone, with no one but your own

immune system to rely on

It took fifteen years before I finally had a family. Even if they hurt me deeply,

they're still the only ones who truly cared when I was in the hospital.

Maybe I should blame them for never listening to my side of the story-but I can't help wanting whatever scraps of kindness they'd offer.noveldrama

I told myself, people have hearts; if I'm good to them, maybe one day they'll be good to me too.

So I was actually excited to go

home, hoping that maybe this time I'd finally be accepted. Even after

everything that's happened,

still

longed to belong.

I saved up my scholarship money and bought a small gift for each member of the family.

I thought maybe these gifts would make them happy. Maybe it would help us get along. Maybe, just maybe, I could finally become a real part of this family.

But when I got home and handed

out the gifts, my brother took one look at the tie I'd chosen for him, a flicker of disgust crossing his face, before he tossed it straight into the trash.

He sneered, "Who wants your cheap junk? You trying to get me laughed at at work? Don't give me this embarrassing stuff."

Mom and Dad barely glanced at their gifts. Their eyes held a storm of emotions I couldn't decipher, but all I saw in the end was one thing: contempt.

Of course.

I was pathetic.

My bit of scholarship money couldn't buy anything fancy, but I'd done my best-l just wanted to do something nice for them.

In that moment, it felt like a thousand needles pierced my heart. The pain was unbearable.

I just didn't understand what would it take for them to treat me like family? Maybe... maybe I never should have come back at all.