Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 13

It was time for her to leave.

She stood up and reached for the door.

Before her slender, pale fingers could touch the handle, the door swung open from the other side. Standing there was a woman in her late fifties.

The woman was momentarily taken aback upon seeing her, but then her face broke into an uncontainable smile. “Miss Claire, you’re really back?”

Claire paused for a moment, “Nanny May?”

Looking at May, a whirlwind of emotions surged within her.

In the entire Linwood household, only Nanny May treated her as the true lady of the house. The other staff were cold and distant, acknowledging only Vanessa as the Linwood’s rightful daughter, referring to her merely as Miss Claire.

On sweltering summer days, when she was covered in heat rash from the stifling utility room, it was May who bought her a fan with her own money. During the freezing winters, when she shivered from the cold, it was May who got her an electric blanket for warmth.

Thinking of these moments, Claire's eyes welled up with tears beyond her control.

After the initial excitement, May's gaze fell on the plastic bag in Claire's hand. “Miss Claire, are you leaving?”

Claire opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, and simply nodded in silence.

May looked at her with a heart full of concern, words of persuasion to stay lingering on her tongue, yet unable to voice them. She knew all too well how precarious Claire’s existence was in the Linwood household—the cold stares, the injustices, the unfairness she had witnessed but felt powerless to change.

With a resigned sigh, she said, “Miss Claire, I won't stop you if you want to go, but let me treat your wounds first.”

Claire waved it off, “It's just a scratch, I'm used to it.”

Hearing this, May’s heart ached. How much suffering had Claire endured to become so indifferent to her own injuries?

The Linwoods owed her. They didn’t deserve her.

“May, I’m leaving.”

With deep reluctance, May pulled out a wad of cash from her pocket and pressed it into Claire’s hand. “Take this, Miss Claire. Use it for your journey. You need to take care of yourself out there.”

As she spoke, tears finally spilled down May’s cheeks.

Claire wanted to refuse, but May was firm, “You can’t be out there alone without money, and you certainly can’t live under a bridge.”

Claire gritted her teeth, tears streaming silently down her face.

Even those unrelated to her knew how to care for her. Why couldn’t her own parents and brother show her the same compassion?