A VELVET SCREEN AND THE EYE OF THE GOD ON THE CEILING

ACT III: VIVIAN’S COSTLY TEARS

“I didn’t do it... Marcus, please believe me just once...”

At last, David’s tears spilled over and rolled across his throbbing wound. They were not tears of fear, but of utter bitterness: the child he had carried and raised was using force to pin him against a wall because of a stranger’s lies.

“How am I supposed to believe you?!” Marcus shouted, his tensed arm trembling. “Did Vivian tear her own dress? Did she make herself this terrified? You’ve always opposed this marriage! You’ve always looked at her like she’s a gold digger! I’ve put up with your outdated prejudice for far too long!”

Behind him, Vivian’s lips curled into the faintest smile—a sinister smirk that lasted less than half a second before her face returned to an expression of suffering and helplessness. She took a small step forward, her hands trembling as if to intervene, though she was really egging him on.

“Marcus, stop... Don’t hurt your father anymore... This is my fault. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to fit into this family. I’m only an outsider... Maybe I should move into a hotel so your father can be comfortable...”

“No one is leaving unless they pay for their violence!” Marcus declared, his gaze toward his father now completely cold. His blind bias had turned him into the perfect puppet in the hands of a cunning woman.

“Take your hands off Dad right now!”

A woman’s voice, sharp and cold as a blade, cut through the suffocating air.

A graceful yet commanding figure strode in from the stairwell. It was Maya Vance. She wore a finely tailored black suit, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, and her face carried the same resolute features as her father’s. Maya had just returned from her law office.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Maya rushed over and planted both hands on Marcus’s forearm. She threw her full weight into the push, startling Marcus into releasing his grip and stumbling back two steps.

“Have you lost your mind, Marcus?!” Maya stepped between him and David, spreading her arms to protect their unsteady father. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stared at her brother. “You dare lay hands on Dad in his own home? Have you even listened to a word he’s said?!”

ACT IV: THE OLD FATHER’S MEMORIES

Marcus staggered back to his feet, gasping. A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face at being caught behaving violently by his sister, but his rage had not fully subsided. He pointed at Vivian.

“Maya, you just got here—you don’t know anything! He attacked Vivian! Look at her; she’s absolutely terrified!”

“Then look at Dad’s face!” Maya snapped, pointing to the bloody gash on David’s cheek. “Who’s the one who’s hurt here? Dad is seventy, Marcus! His bones are so weak he has to hold the railing just to climb the stairs. Do you really think he’s strong enough to overpower or attack a young, healthy woman like her?!”

The room fell into a heavy silence. The sharp words of a woman lawyer were like cold water thrown over Marcus’s irrational fury.

David leaned against the wall, each breath rasping in his chest. With a trembling hand, he touched his wound and felt his own blood. An emptiness filled his heart. He remembered when Marcus was twelve, bullied and beaten by a group of bad kids in the neighborhood until his face was bruised. David had run five miles through a torrential downpour to the school, a grease-stained wrench still in his hand, to protect his son. That night, he sat beside Marcus’s bed, gently applying ointment to his wounds and whispering, “As long as I’m alive, no one in this world will ever be allowed to hurt you.”

And now the wound on his face had been caused by the slander of the woman his son loved, while the very son he had once sworn to protect with his life had just choked him as if he wanted to tear him apart.

No medicine could heal that pain.

ACT V: MAYA’S STEADY SUPPORT

Maya turned to support her father and took a silk handkerchief from her pocket to gently wipe the blood from his cheek. Feeling him tremble, her heart tightened.

“Dad, are you all right? Let me take you to the hospital,” Maya whispered, her voice heavy with concern.

David shook his head gently and held his daughter’s hand. He looked at Maya as if he had found an oasis of peace in a storm-ravaged desert. “I’m all right, sweetheart... It just hurts here...” He placed a hand on the left side of his chest, where his heart throbbed with a heavy, aching beat.

Vivian realized the situation was turning against her now that Maya had arrived. She knew Marcus’s sister would not be as easy to fool. Maya was a sharp trial lawyer who could see through cheap psychological tricks. Vivian immediately changed tactics. She stepped up behind Marcus, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her head against his broad back, seeking his protection.

“Marcus... please... Don’t argue anymore...” Vivian sobbed. “I don’t want your family to fall apart because of me. I’m only a fragile woman, and I don’t belong with a family like yours... Maybe I was wrong to come here in the first place. I’m sorry, Dad... I’m sorry, Maya...”

Vivian’s humble, self-sacrificing words once again triggered Marcus’s instinct to protect her. He turned and clasped her hand, then glared at his sister.

“See, Maya? Even now, she’s thinking about our family! What about Dad and you? You’re always prejudiced, always treating her like some kind of schemer! I’m the head of this household. I have the right to demand justice for my wife!”