But she wasn’t done. With a twisted look of determination, she knelt down, picked up a shard of glass, and—before I could react—dragged it across her own forehead. A thin line of blood welled up as she let out a sharp cry.
Footsteps pounded towards us.
"What happened?!" Archie’s voice.
I turned to explain, but Claire was already whimpering pathetically, clutching at her forehead.
"Archie," she sniffled, "Wendy threw a flowerpot at me!"
I froze.
What?!
Before I could protest, Archie was already at her side, gripping her shoulders anxiously.
"Are you alright?"
Claire bit her lip, looking utterly heartbroken. "I don’t know why she got so angry… I just wanted to talk…"
My whole body trembled with rage. "I didn’t do it!"
Archie’s furious eyes snapped to me. "Wendy!"
"I swear, I didn’t! She attacked me first and cut herself—"
Claire whimpered, burying her face in his chest.
"I know she’s mad at me for spending time with Zac," she murmured. "But I never stopped her from holding him. I was only trying to help… I’d do anything for the heir to your family."
Archie fixed me with a sharp glare, his voice as cold as ice.