Chapter 103: Scapegoat

Edward Bennett frowned, and slowly picked up the conversation, with a hint of worry in his tone: "Our dad... do you think he’ll agree to let Clara into the entertainment industry? If we keep this from him, would it make him furious?" Clara Bennett heard her brother’s concern, but she remained unflustered. She smiled, reached out with her chopsticks, and gently picked up a piece of crystal-clear shrimp paste. She first held the shrimp paste near her mouth, lightly blew on it to cool it down, and then said leisurely, "It’s fine. When the time comes, I’ll just tell him that Samuel Grant made me so angry, I decided relying on men isn’t reliable at all, so I chose to strive for a career on my own. Our dad definitely won’t have an issue with that; after all, pursuing a career is probably better than falling in love again." What could possibly make Sir Bennett’s blood pressure rise more than her having a troublesome boyfriend like Samuel Grant? James Bennett looked at his sister’s confident expression, a significant look flashing in his eyes. He slowly put down his chopsticks and said in a deep voice, "Do you think... Dad won’t realize you’re playing tricks with your cleverness? On the surface you’re focusing on your career, but in reality? You’re already married." Clara, caught in her little scheme, wasn’t angry; instead, she laughed sheepishly. She lowered her head and said softly, "Brother, don’t worry. In the end, I’ll take full responsibility for everything." Charles Bennett snorted upon hearing this, casually picked up a piece of meat from the plate, and rudely tossed it into Clara’s bowl. He raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly dissatisfied, "You think taking responsibility solves everything? We still have to get scolded and punished! You cause trouble, and the whole family suffers." Clara was stunned, her smile gradually fading. She raised her eyes to look at her brothers, confused, "How can that be? I clearly made the mistake alone." James Bennett sighed, shook his head, and said helplessly, "You’re still too young. Let Edward tell you about what happened in the past, how we got scolded every time you got into trouble." Edward Bennett nodded, coughed theatrically, and adopted a serious tone, as if recounting an extremely solemn matter: "They’d say, you guys taught your sister poorly, making her turn out like this! As brothers, not setting a good example or guiding her properly. Today, she made a mistake, and it’s completely our failure!" Clara’s eyes widened in disbelief, "Really? I never knew Dad did that!" Charles Bennett rolled his eyes, obviously well accustomed to such scenes. He said quietly, "He wants to be the perfect dad in your eyes, so every time he’d wait until you were sound asleep, then drag us out for a lecture in the dead of night." Edward added softly, with a hint of helplessness and mockery, "If you want to condemn someone, you can always find a charge." Clara felt her heart ache, an indescribable bitterness rising within her. Her voice trembled slightly, each word filled with deep apology: "I’m sorry, brothers... I only now realize how much you’ve covered for me. If I had known this all along, I would have behaved better... at the very least, I wouldn’t have let you suffer so much because of me." Seeing her emotional, James gently patted her shoulder, trying to soothe her in the gentlest way possible. A warm smile spread across his lips, his tone peaceful yet firm: "There’s no need to feel guilty, Clara. It’s really not your fault. You’ve done great, no need to blame yourself." After saying that, he paused, as if trying to make this point more deeply imprinted in his sister’s mind. Edward leaned back in his chair, shrugged lazily, his tone casual yet with a tinge of helplessness: "In the end, it’s all about Dad’s emotional management issues. When he’s dissatisfied, having nowhere to vent, he takes it out on us." Charles raised his glass, took a small sip, the motion appearing leisurely and composed. He set down the glass and spoke slowly, "Since mom’s been gone, he really doesn’t know how to educate you. Sometimes he feels conflicted about being harsh on you, so he ends up transferring all his bad feelings onto us brothers. The old man seems authoritative, but inside he’s really fragile and pitiful. We see that clearly, so we simply don’t bother with him." Hearing this, Clara felt a tingling sensation in her nose, and her eyes immediately reddened. A mix of guilt and gratitude surged in her chest, nearly leaving her breathless. "All these years," she thought silently, "they never mentioned any of this, not even once." Their tolerance and silence brought about today’s peaceful family environment, yet as a sister, she was completely unaware of it all. Clara suddenly understood. The love from her father and brothers was far deeper and broader than she had ever imagined. Trying to calm the waves in her heart, Clara took a deep breath, striving to regain her composure. She solemnly raised her glass, her gaze sincere and intense as she looked at her three brothers: "Brothers, I toast to you! From now on, I will strive harder, not to let your efforts go to waste, and become a sister you can truly be proud of!" This was her heartfelt promise, marking the beginning of a reevaluation of herself. James’s gaze stayed on his sister’s face, and at that moment, he finally showed a more comforting smile. The smile was as warming as spring sunshine: "You’re already wonderful, Clara." He paused, his gaze becoming slightly softer, "Thank you for growing up safely and growing up well. For us, that’s more than enough." With the crisp sound of clinking glasses, Clara drank the wine in her glass, but a glistening tear couldn’t help but slide down the corner of her eye. The drop of tear silently landed on the table, like a whisper hidden deep in her heart: "I’m not good enough, really not good enough. If I had been excellent enough back then, perhaps everything that happened in a past life wouldn’t have been repeated..." The meal lasted until past ten o’clock at night, with most of the dishes on the table left unfinished, yet the atmosphere grew more lively and harmonious. Even though all three brothers were quite tipsy, their expressions remained relaxed and joyful, their banter and jests mingled with the drunkenness spreading all around. Clara listened to them talk hazily about her embarrassing childhood moments, their voices seeming to come from a distant memory, blurred yet real. Each embarrassing story felt like opening a long-sealed box, full of memories she wished she could dig a hole and hide in immediately. She felt she couldn’t listen any further, the feeling akin to salt being rubbed into wounds, and these salt grains were like special large sea salt crystals, both spicy and painful.