Chapter 9

Elena clearly hadn't expected Claire to push back so hard.

Her expression froze for a moment—then broke into louder sobs.

"Are you trying to drive your sister to her death?!" she cried, voice shrill with accusation. "If it weren't for the Thompson family, you wouldn't even be alive right now! Serena's had another episode, and you—still won't back down? How can you be so heartless?!"

Claire stared at her, face expressionless, eyes cold.

There was a time—long ago—when she'd still clung to a sliver of hope.

After all, she had called this woman "Mom" for twenty years.

Maybe, just maybe, the Thompsons had come to care for her too. Even a little.

But now, it was painfully clear—she had only ever been deceiving herself.

Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, but still, the question slipped out.

"What if something had really happened to me today?" she asked quietly. "What if I'd been assaulted?"

Elena blinked, caught off guard. Then her face hardened.

"But you weren't, were you?" she snapped. "Nothing happened! So why can't you just let it go? You're the older sister—can't you be a little more understanding? Serena's sick! She didn't mean it! Why do you have to hold on to everything? You're so petty!"

Claire's heart turned colder with every word.

"All I wanted," she said, voice low, "was an apology."

"Fine!" Elena spat, her eyes narrowing.

"You want an apology? Then here it is." Her voice dripped with contempt. "I, Elena—your foster mother—apologize. I'm sorry I failed to raise you right. I'm sorry you were wronged. But Claire, if it hadn't been for you, would Serena have ended up like this?!"

Tears streamed down her face as she pulled Serena into her arms, as if the world had wronged her precious daughter.

"You took her place in this family all these years. You ruined her! And you still feel no guilt? No gratitude? I must have been blind back then. Get out! Don't show your face here again. As far as I'm concerned, I never raised you. The Thompsons have no place for you."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Guests stood around, watching with barely concealed amusement or pity.

Thrown out of the Thompson family—what future could someone like Claire possibly have?

But she had stood her ground in front of everyone. She would not—could not—crawl back now.

All eyes locked on her, waiting.

Claire opened her mouth—

But before she could speak, Nelson stepped forward and placed himself in front of her.

"Elena," he said, voice low but firm, "we understand Serena's not well. But Claire's been through enough today. It's fine to love one child more—but at least be fair. And let's not forget, the Coopers and Thompsons are bound by marriage. Claire is my wife. Cutting her off like this—it won't look good for either family."

Behind him, Claire spoke evenly.

"Mr. Cooper… we've already signed the divorce papers. Legally speaking, I'm no longer your wife."

Her words landed like a bomb.

The guests—already shocked Nelson had stepped in—stood frozen again.

That's right.

They were already divorced.

Even Serena, curled on the floor, stopped crying.

Nelson turned to look at Claire, eyes dark, but said nothing.

Claire didn't wait. She picked up her bag.

"The marriage is over," she said. "I have nothing more to do with the Coopers. And as for Mrs. Thompson—"

She paused, then looked directly at Elena.

"Message received. Loud and clear."

She took a breath.

Then, she stepped forward—just one step—and lowered her head in a rare, deliberate bow.

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't theatrical. It was quiet, composed, and final.

"Thank you, Elena," she said, her voice steady. "For raising me all these years."

Even if the love had been one-sided—even if the affection had long since rotted—she had been raised under this roof.

Gratitude and betrayal—she remembered both.

The scornful looks around the room began to shift, just slightly.

But Claire didn't care.

She stood up, calm and composed, ready to leave.

Then—

"Wait!"

Elena's voice rang out behind her.