Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 312

If winter comes, he’ll never make it.

Watching him, Claire couldn’t help but think of herself.

She gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Her own life was a mess, and yet here she was, finding room to feel sorry for someone else.

But maybe that was exactly why—she’d stumbled through her own darkness, been battered by life’s storms. She understood what pain felt like. And because of that, she wanted, more than anything, to shield others from the rain, if only for a moment.

Claire turned, stepping into a nearby convenience store. She bought a loaf of bread and a bottle of water, then walked back to the man.

Her voice was gentle. “That roll’s gone moldy—you’ll get sick if you eat it. Here, take these instead.”

Claire held out the bag. Inside were the bread, the water, and some money.

She’d kept just enough cash for the bus fare—ten dollars, no more. Every remaining bill she’d tucked inside the bag for him.

At the sound of her voice, the man’s frantic, hungry movements stopped cold. He froze, as if struck by lightning.

He sat there on the ground, hair falling over his face, and behind those tangled strands his eyes were wild with fear, shame, and helpless confusion.

Claire bent down, her gaze soft, and spoke to him again, even more quietly. “Go on. Take it.”

But it was as if he hadn’t heard her—he didn’t move. In fact, his body seemed to tremble.

Claire guessed he’d been bullied so often that even a stranger’s approach scared him.

She softened her tone further. “Don’t be afraid. I mean you no harm.”

With that, she reached to take the moldy roll from his grasp.

The man’s eyes landed on her slender, almost ghostly-pale hand. Something twisted inside him. Without warning, tears spilled down his cheeks.

One fat tear dropped onto the back of Claire’s hand.

She froze, heart aching for him.

He must have gone so long without kindness, she thought. To him, a single act of compassion from a stranger must have seemed overwhelming. That was why he cried.

Claire drew a deep breath, gently pried the roll from his hand, and tossed it in the trash. Then she pressed the bread, water, and money into his arms.

The man never once looked up at her. Not a single word passed his lips.

Claire wanted to say something encouraging, but just then, her bus arrived.

May tugged at her sleeve. “Come on, Claire, we should get on.”