Chapter 5

It was already dark out when Clara got home. She went to her art studio to look around. After all, her paintings for her university admission were still incomplete. Clara had just arrived at the door when she saw a housekeeper rearranging the interior and cleaning the space. Clara's easel, which originally sat next to the window, had vanished. In its place was an expensive imported piano. There were no traces of her art and paint supplies. They were replaced with Ivy's music scores and other belongings. "Where are my paintings?" Clara asked the housekeeper, her voice trembling. Those art pieces weren't just her prized possessions. Among them was one specific painting—the last thing her mother had painted before dying. Clara's parents perished on their way back from the countryside. They had gone there to look for inspiration for Clara's mother's paintings. Clara's grandmother blamed these paintings as the reason for Clara's father's death. So, she burned all of Clara's mother's art pieces. One painting survived because Clara lunged into the flames and burned her hands to save it. It was the last thing she had of her mother's. Clara cherished the painting a lot. Even Wren wouldn't dare touch it back then. However, it was missing now. The housekeeper bore a nervous expression after seeing that Clara was on the verge of tears. She was unsure how to respond when someone spoke up from behind, "You're back, Clara." Ivy held a score sheet and smilingly entered the room. She only snapped out of her smugness after realizing Clara was crying. Right away, she put on an apologetic front. She said, "Sorry for hogging your studio. Wren told me this room's spacious and has the best lighting, so it's the perfect place to be my piano room. He's allowed me to move into this room to practice for my upcoming piano competition." Clara stepped closer to Ivy. "Where are my paintings?" "Oh, those paintings?" Ivy smiled sweetly. "Wren said they weren't important and told me to do whatever I pleased with them. So, I asked the housekeepers to throw them away." Clara's eyes widened in disbelief, and her entire body trembled. Wren knew how important that painting was to her. However, he allowed Ivy to get rid of it to make her happy. "Are you alright, Clara?" Ivy asked. Clara's head snapped upward just then. She grabbed Ivy's outreached hand. Her eyes reddened as she loudly questioned, "Where have you thrown my paintings? Give them back!" "You're hurting me, Clara." Ivy frowned due to the pain and deliberately said, "They're in the outdoor bins. There's no telling if the garbage truck has already cleared the bins…" Clara shoved Ivy away before running outside at once. It was drizzling outdoors, but Clara dared not delay things any longer. She dug through each garbage bin one after the other. Finally, she found the discarded paintings in a bin near the villa. Unfortunately, all the paintings were destroyed. The oil pigments had bled all over the place. The painting she made of her and Wren looked the worst. Her face got smeared with black paint. It was like someone had taken their anger out on her, and her face was unrecognizable in the painting. Clara couldn't be bothered to feel sad about it. She merely knelt beside the bin and looked around until she found her mother's painting. Luckily, it sat beneath all the other paintings and was safe from the rain. It only had a slight stain from the other bleeding pigments. Now that Clara had found what she lost, she hugged it tightly as she walked home in the rain. Her humiliation at that moment couldn't compare to the anger brewing in her chest. When she passed the art studio, she saw Wren hugging Ivy with concern. He softly spoke while trying to cheer Ivy up. Carlisle, Katrina, and Shirley also surrounded Ivy. As Wren looked up and saw Clara, he coldly stated, "Get over here." Clara's fingers tightened around the frame of the painting as she tensely entered the room. All eyes were on her just then. Katrina felt bad for Clara when she saw the latter was drenched. She was about to speak up when Wren beat her to it. Wren's stern tone rang out, "I'm the one who let Ivy move into the art studio. You can take any grievances you have with me. Why did you harm Ivy?" "She threw my paintings away! You know that was the one thing I had left of my mom!" Clara stared straight at Wren with reddened eyes. She refused to let the matter slide as she asked, "Were you behind that, too?" Wren froze briefly. "It's not like Ivy knew about it. You shouldn't blame her! Apologize to Ivy at once, and I can pretend like this never happened." "Why do I have to apologize when I've done nothing wrong?" Clara snapped. Her entire body trembled as she stared with disappointment at Wren. Wren's face darkened. Shirley immediately put on an act of pity, forcing herself to cry as she wiped her eyes. "Carlisle, Ivy has already gotten injured twice, even though we've just announced our kids' marriage. Do Clara and Katrina not want us here? How about Ivy and I move out instead?" "Nonsense! I'd like to see who would dare kick you two out while I'm here!" Carlisle held Shirley's hand, his heart aching for her. Then, he whipped his head around to lecture Katrina without caring about her feelings. He snapped, "Look at how you've raised your niece! She's remorseless! If this happens again, I want you and her to leave my residence! "Now, apologize to Ivy and Shirley at once, or I'll withdraw your shares from the company!" Katrina looked at her husband of over ten years, her face devoid of color. She had always known about Carlisle's partialness toward Shirley. Yet, she never imagined Carlisle would threaten her with the company because of Shirley. At that moment, she felt ridiculous for fighting hard to maintain her marriage all this while. Deep guilt stirred in Clara as she took in Katrina's pale expression. She had gotten Katrina in trouble again. "Forget it, Wren and Mr. Zachman. I'm sure Clara only did that because she was overwhelmed by her emotions at the time. It wasn't on purpose. Please forgive her." Ivy stepped up to play the good girl role after feeling satisfied with how things had progressed. "You're much more considerate than Clara," Carlisle praised Ivy before glowering at Katrina once more. "Come with me." Clara wanted to say something, but Katrina gave a comforting pat on Clara's hand to stop her. Then, Katrina left the room with Carlisle. Only Wren, Ivy, and Clara remained in the room. "You mustn't be so rash anymore, Clara. I might actually get mad at you if it happens again." Ivy acted like a nagging older sister-in-law. Then, she looked at Wren and said, "I love this piano room, Wren. It's just... the elderflower tree outside the window smells too overpowering. I don't like it. Can I chop it down?" "Anything you want," Wren answered. At the same time, Clara bellowed, "No!" Clara faced Wren's unfriendly side profile and spoke up, her voice hardening, "We planted that tree together back then, Wren. Have you forgotten?" "It's only a tree. Are you seriously getting worked up over that?" Wren frowned coldly. "When did you become so poorly behaved, Clara?" Clara's eyes rounded in disbelief at him. Even her lips trembled, and her face was pale. Wren had planted that tree for her when she was eight years old. He said Clara's home was here as long as the tree remained. Since then, he was with her whenever the elderflowers bloomed. Wren and Clara were inseparable throughout the years. Yet, he had forgotten all about it now. Clara couldn't help but let out a wry laugh. Bitterness lingered in her voice when she said, "But that's the last elderflower tree, Wren." Everything that belonged to Clara had been gradually taken away since Ivy moved into the Zachman residence. Wren had dismantled the swing he had built for Clara with his bare hands to build a gazebo for Ivy. There were also other elderflower trees in the greenhouse, which he had grown with great care. However, they had been replaced with Ivy's favorite flowers, lilies. Now, even the last memory Wren and Clara shared was about to be taken away. Wren looked at Clara with indifference. He said nothing, which was equivalent to a silent acceptance. The light in Clara's eyes went out for good. She self-deprecatingly pursed her lips and headed outside. She was going to cut down that tree herself.