Beyond the Divorce

She looked terrifying, emanating a fierce aura like a recently awakened beast. Her eyes were red, her face even paler, trembling all over. She roared, "Tell him to get lost!" Finn immediately reached out to comfort her. "Beatrice, calm down. I'll make him leave..."

"Get him out! Get him out! I want to kill him..." she said, attempting to rise, ready to storm out.

Finn quickly reached out to restrain her. Now she became even more agitated, "Don't hit me... Let go of me. Don't hit me! Leave!"

After her outburst, her hands uncontrollably scratched at the air, clearly a reflex, the aftermath of prolonged abuse. This was the most undeniable proof.

Seeing her like this made my heart ache even more.

After her shout, she bit down on Finn's shoulder, her expression grim as she sank her teeth in fiercely.

Finn grunted but kept his eyes closed, refusing to let go of her.

I was surprised and hurriedly patted her back. "Beatrice... Beatrice, don't bite him. He's your lifesaver. He won't harm you, Beatrice..."

Several nurses rushed in to help, one preparing a syringe. Finn roared, "Don't touch her, don't give her a shot."

But Beatrice continued biting down on Finn's shoulder. His white shirt was instantly stained red.

Finn, in pain, had veins bulging in his neck, but he still didn't let go of her.

to me," I called out

her bite,

looked at Finn. "Do you need

long as she

stared blankly at Finn, took a deep breath, and said, "... Make

I'll go chase him away. Don't be angry.

softened, her voice quieter, "Make him

now." Finn had a face full of smiles as if

rushed in, looking at the situation before her, and asked me,

doesn't want to see him,"

commenting, "What

Beatrice seemed somewhat

quickly laid her down on the bed Her hands still tightly clung to my clothes, seemingly finding safety only in

a child in

sit by her side, watching her. She continued gripping onto me, refusing to

to say something to her, but she

the evening, when Atlas arrived, Beatrice had just fallen asleep. The light reflected on her pallid face. She looked frail in her curled-up state, devoid of any sense of

Byron had appeared at the