Your Love Is But a Dream

Chapter 160

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Chapter 160 No one knew how much thad passed when Wren, leaning against the side of the bed, drifted off into a light sleep On the hospital bed, Clara suddenly began breathing rapidly. Her face timed ashen, her eyes remained tightly shut, and her brow furrowed deeply Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

In her dream, she seemed to be falling into an abyss. Darkness surrounded her, and icy water engulfed her, surging up and swallowing her whole.

Her clothes clung to her body, entangling her limbs and constraining her movements. They drapped her downward, deeper and deeper.

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She tried to cry for help, but as soon as she opened her mouths, a rush of icy water poured in, suffocating her. The choking sensation spread from her chest, robbing her of strength Her consciousness began to fade. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself sitting inside acar Locking around at the familie yet distant decorations in the car, Clara froze. Her pupils trembled in disbelief as her eyes locked onto the couple seated in the front row. Warm tears welled up and streamed down her face. She wanted to speak, but her body trembled, and no sound escaped her lips. She was terrified that everything before her was nothing more than a fleeting dream.

The woman in the passenger seat turned her head and smiled at her with gentle, motherly warmth "Clarey, do you like the painting Mommy worked on today? When it's finished how about we hang it in your room? The man in the driver's seat glanced lovingly at his wife and chuckled. “Didn't you say you wanted to enter that painting into a competition? Now you're just giving it to her because she Hoes it?" The woman laughed lightly. "What's more important than Clarey Wilding at? She even said she wants to learn to paint with me. She wants to be an artist too." "Alright, then. That means our family will have two great artists in the future. If Clarey wants to leam, I'll buy you all the tools you need and hire the best teachers. Without a doubt, she'll one day beca world-renowned artist." The man smiled and turned back to glance at Cara.

Looking at the two familiar faces, Clara's tears flowed uncontrollably.

She opened her mouth and choked out, "Dad, Mom.." But the couple, who had been chatting and Laughing, acted as if they didn't hear her at all.

Clara's gaze shifted to the scenery outside the car, and in an instant, her expression turned to one of sheer panic and horror.

She lunged forward abruptly and shouted, "Dad, stop the car!" But no sound carne out of her mouth. In that moment, there was a loud bang, and the world spun. Everything went black as clara lost consciousness again.

She was awakened by the piercing sound of crying. When her awareness returned, she found herself kneeling in a mourning hall.

Suddenly, a heavy slap landed on her face, the sharp sound echoing throughout the hall.

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Anne pointed a trembling finger at her, her bloodshot eyes filled with hatred as they fixedon Clara "you and your mother are both bringers of bad luck! It's your fault my son is dead. It she hadn't gone to that godforsaken place to paint sv wouldn't have died! "Why are you the one who survived? They died protecting you! It's you who cursed them!"

Anne's usually neatly pinned-up hair was disheveled, and her face, which bone sresemblance to Clara's En father, was twisted with hatred She seized Clara's small arm wah a vice-like grip, ignoring her cries as she dragged her outside.

It was only then that clara realized her body had reverted to the size of a seven-year-old worthless painting, my son

With eyes filled with loathing, Anne threw her into the snow-covered yard. "I will never forgive you! The ve Salford family has no place for you! Kneel here and repent for your sins! You're not allowed to get up without my permission!" Clara knelt in the snow, the biting cold mercilessly piercing her skin and seeping into her bones. Her body gradually grew numb and stift.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her, and a coat with a faint, cool fragrance was gently draped Over around her frail frame. She lifted her head slowly, her body sluggish from the cold. A familiar face cinto view. her, wrappings gently

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Your Love Is But a Dream

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