Clara's fingertips trembled suddenly, and the suitcase handle creaked as she gripped it tightly.
She remembered the past. She used to be afraid of the dark, and whenever she came home late from work, Liam would always leave a warm yellow light on in the entryway, waiting for her. He would remember her stomach problems and add an extra spoonful of sugar when cooking millet porridge. He would hold her design drafts, which she had worked on late into the night, his eyes shining as he said, "Niannian, you are my treasure."
But now? Her eyes were splashed with sulfuric acid by his adopted sister's son, and she almost went completely blind. He didn't care, not even bothering to offer a word of comfort. He was busy making excuses for the perpetrator and comforting the woman who had ruined everything for her.
A sharp, throbbing pain surged up from her chest, spreading through her blood to every part of her body. She could even feel the pain manifest as a trembling in her fingertips, causing her suitcase to sway gently.
But she couldn't have an attack.