On the hard oak floor, Marcus pressed his forearm against Clara’s back, trying to force her to release her grip on her personal belongings. Little Leo began to cry loudly, his tiny fists waving from beneath the blue blanket. Clara felt a surge of pure, raw adrenaline surge through her body as she looked up at Evelyn standing over her like a tyrant.
Evelyn: Harder! She hasn't learned yet!
Clara: Get your hands off me, Marcus!
Marcus: Just give up! You cannot beat us in this house!
Evelyn: Grab her bag and take the baby into the guest room until she agrees to sign the deed!
Clara: Touch my baby and I will destroy both of you!
The threat of losing her baby gave Clara strength she didn't know she possessed. Driven by absolute maternal instinct, Clara gathered all her power, planted her feet against the slick wood floor, and shoved upward with all her weight. Marcus, taken completely off balance by her sudden burst of strength, slipped backward on the polished hardwood. Clara instantly scrambled to her feet, holding Leo firmly against her shoulder with one arm while keeping her body low and ready.
Evelyn stepped forward to block her path again, raising her manicured hand as if to strike Clara across the face. But Clara did not hesitate for a single second. With her free right hand, she delivered a powerful, desperate shove directly into Evelyn’s chest. The sudden force sent the older woman flying backward, tumbling awkwardly onto the soft American-style sofa behind her with a loud gasp. The entire room went dead silent as Evelyn fell back onto the cushions in total shock, her eyes wide with unbelievable outrage.
Marcus: You insane woman! You just put your hands on my mother!
Clara: She came at me first, Marcus! Stay back!
Evelyn: Look at what she did! Call the guards! Restrain her immediately!
Clara: Nobody move another step toward me!
Marcus scrambled up from the floor, his face red with fury as he charged toward Clara again. The guests in the hall murmured frantically, taking out their phones but refusing to step into the dangerous family feud. Clara did not run toward the locked front doors; instead, she stood her ground near the center table, holding her crying child securely while raising her left wrist into clear view of everyone in the room.
Marcus stopped short just two feet away from her, his fists clenched tight at his sides. He glared at her with pure hatred, convinced that she was completely out of options and trapped inside their house without any support. But as he stepped closer to grab her arm once more, he noticed a soft, steady electronic chime ringing out from the small device strapped to Clara's wrist, flashing a bright screen into the room.