Chapter 43

Author POV

"No sooner had I thought of you than I realized there's no one quite like you, Clara," Bethany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Frank's love for Laura is unwavering, and no amount of enchantment, black magic, or meddling will change that."

Clara's gaze snapped to her mirror, her eyes flashing with anger. "How dare you!" she spat, her voice low and menacing. "You can now keep your mouth shut; don't try to play tricks with me, Bethany. Well, keep running your mouth; see where it gets you."

"I'm just trying to keep things in sight," Bethany said, her voice calm and steady. "Last time you bullied her, Frank ended up with her as his partner in the practical lab. Just let the couples be, okay?"

Clara's face was twisted in rage, her eyes blazing with fury. She clenched her fists, her hands shaking with restrained anger. "Shut up!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls, creating a vibrating connection to the ground and roof. The mirror in front of her rattled ominously as if it too felt the force of her wrath.

The room fell silent; the only sound was the clattering of the mirror shards as they scattered everywhere. Clara's hands were covered in blood; her knuckles were cut and bleeding. Bethany rushed to Clara's cupboard, rummaging through it to find some medical supplies to treat her injured hands.

"Clara, I'm so sorry! It wasn't intentional; I didn't mean to hurt you," Bethany exclaimed, her voice filled with concern. She gently began to clean and bandage Clara's wounds, but Clara winced in pain with every touch.

The pain was becoming unbearable, and Clara's face contorted in agony. "Stop, Bethany! Just stop!" she cried, her voice trembling. "I can't take it anymore!”

"I wonder if your small brain could even comprehend the idea of keeping quiet and stopping your nonsense." Clara's voice was laced with rage as she flipped her ponytail with her blood-stained hands. "Which would you prefer, oatmeal or smoothie, to sweeten my apology and make it more palatable for you to accept? I've apologized, and I am sorry, Princess."

Bethany's eyes widened at the sarcasm and venom in Clara's words, but she remained calm and composed. "Clara, I understand that you're upset, but please know that my intention was not to hurt you. I'm trying to help and make things right." She spoke softly, trying to diffuse the tension and placate Clara's anger.

"Fine, I've heard you, Bethany. Put your apology in writing, on one sheet, and let me take a look at it," Clara said, her voice still laced with skepticism as she climbed up to her bed. Her eyes flashed back and forth, her lips curling up slightly into a smile, but her eyes betrayed her, revealing the depth of her anger and hurt. The smile seemed to be a mere facade, a thin veil hiding her true emotions.

Bethany nodded, quickly grabbed a piece of paper and pen, and began to write. She handed the sheet to Clara, who snatched it from her hand, her eyes scanning the words with a calculating gaze. "Do me a favor, leave my room," Clara said, her voice firm but measured. "I need some privacy. The beach is a free place to play and enjoy yourself, so feel free to use the door. Thank you, Bethany."

Clara's hands gestured towards the door, her eyes never leaving Bethany's face. The message was clear: leave now and give me some space. Bethany nodded, understanding the hint, and quietly made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Ouch..." Clara groaned, wincing in pain as she felt a surge of discomfort in her finger. "That girl is a form of distraction," she muttered to herself, wrapping a bandage around her injured finger. She slowly lay down on her bed, resting her head on one pillow and smashing her other hand into the second pillow in frustration.

The pain and anger still lingered, making her feel restless and uneasy. She closed her eyes, trying to calm down and willing herself to forget the argument with Bethany, but her mind refused to let go of the hurt and anger.

As she lay there, Clara's mind raced with thoughts of Laura and Frank and the complicated web of relationships that seemed to entangle them all. She couldn't help but wonder what Laura was doing with Frank at the moment.

Just as she was starting to drift off to sleep, Clara's phone buzzed on her nightstand. She groggily reached for it, her eyes widening as she saw a text from an unknown number.

"I'm sorry, Clara." Bethany's voice came through the phone, laced with a hint of apology.

But Clara's anger and suspicion got the better of her. "Don't dare come to my house, Bethany!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "Just stay on the beach, please." She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as she realized she needed evidence of Bethany's deceit.

Quickly, she tapped the voice recorder icon on her phone, capturing the incriminating conversation. Then she turned off the phone, her mind racing with thoughts of hurt. How could Bethany cause her injuries? Clara ruffled her hair, slamming back to sleep like a dull baby.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, bursting out of her room and rushing towards the swimming pool. Without hesitation, she dove into the water, her fully clothed body splashing into the pool. She swam a few strokes, her frustration and anger manifesting in her powerful strokes.

Then she stopped, her breath hitched as she tried to catch her breath. She floated on her back, staring up at the sky, the water rippling around her. The cool liquid enveloped her, providing a temporary escape from the emotional turmoil that threatened to overwhelm her. She lay there, her mind racing, trying to process the events that had just transpired.

"I hate this world and everything in it!" Clara exclaimed, her voice muffled by the water. "Especially Frank and that manipulative witch, Laura. She stole my man away from me, and now I'm left with nothing but pain and heartache."

Clara's thoughts seethed with anger and resentment, her mind replaying the memories of her past, the hurt and betrayal still fresh and raw. She stayed there, floating in the pool, her eyes closed, letting the water support her weight as if it could also bear the burden of her sorrow.