Chapter 321


    "Rosie, remember this—if we are strong enough, no one can touch us. The moment we let others


    dictate our emotions, we''re asking for trouble.


    “What''s it to them that I''m home? I have no obligation to be the savior. Why should I save someone


    who doesn''t have the will to live?"


    The world outside, Rosie soon learned, was far moreplicated than her brother and Ste had


    described. It took her several tries to wrap her head around it, but eventually, it clicked.


    Even though they let Rosie take her shifts, they were never truly at ease, always inquiring about the


    happenings outside and how she managed them.


    Rosie was just a young girl, barely five, when she started fending for herself at her uncle''s ce.


    Living under someone else''s roof, she learned to endure in silence, to face everything with a smile


    or hidden tears—she knew the consequences of being found out.


    Over time, Ste gently guided her—Rosie would open up to her brother and Ste, but rarely


    showed her true feelings to outsiders.


    So, even when people gossiped about Ste, Rosie didn''t rush to her defense. Instead, she took


    mental notes, afraid of acting on impulse and regretting itter. Her brother had warned her: some


    mistakes, even just once, could cost you your life.


    She had to figure out many things on her own.


    Ste stopped her shifts to focus on training and managing Arcadia, devoting nearly all her time to


    medical books.


    In the neighborhood, some rejoiced with newfound treasures while others mourned their losses.


    The endless night only amplified the gap between the rich and the poor. There were those who


    chose to end it all, some by slitting their wrists, others by overdosing on expired sleeping pills.


    Shared sorrow, shared joy—but never the same.


    A month drifted by as Ste immersed herself in the ocean of knowledge. One evening, feeling


    affectionate, she reached out to Jasper only to be gently rebuffed.


    Initially baffled, she soon got it. The shadow of Molly''s tragicbor hung over them both, a reminder


    that even with condoms, one wasn''t wholly protected from the storm.


    With a softugh, Ste turned off the bedsidemp. "Let''s sleep," she said, and Jasper pulled her


    close, nting a tender kiss on her forehead.


    The next morning, after breakfast, as Ste was about to dive back into her medical books, the


    inte buzzed. Someone hade looking for her. It was Katie.


    Ste pondered for a moment—if the child was well, today marked a full month since birth.


    The Moore family, mother and daughter-inw, hade bearing ten pounds of rice as a token of


    gratitude for Ste''s medical help.


    "Katie, how''s the baby doing?" Ste didn’t take the rice, her concern genuine.


    Katie''s usual optimism had faded, and she seemed aged by grief, but she managed a small smile


    for Ste. "The child''s doing well."


    The child had seemed frail, but after a month of careful nurturing, he was looking more robust, his


    eyes lively and alert.


    The family had lost a beloved daughter-inw, and while they should have celebrated the arrival of


    a great-grandson with gratitude, their hearts were too heavy with sorrow. Mikey, in particr, had


    been devastated, ming himself for Molly''s death—if only he had been more cautious, if only they


    had addressed the breech birth sooner... But Molly hadn''t been able to bear aborting the pregnancy,


    and now Mikey was barely hanging on.


    These family matters were not for public discussion, and Katie hade to express her thanks to


    Ste.


    Ste waved off the rice. "Katie, please take it back. Grind it into a paste to feed the baby. Consider


    it a gift from me for his one-month celebration."


    The Moores had been under Ste''s care for years; their debt of gratitude couldn''t be repaid with a


    few words. Katie insisted, but Ste firmly refused.


    Ste admitted to herself that she had grown numb to the harsh realities of this new world. Katie''s


    family was one of the few that could still touch her heart. Wasn''t a person without emotion just a


    walking machine? So she was willing to lend a hand where she could, for the sake of her own


    peace of mind.


    Tears suddenly streamed down Katie''s face. "Thank you, Ste, truly."


    If it hadn''t been for Ste''s timely C-section, saving the baby, Mikey might not have made it. The


    child was the family''s anchor now, their reason to keep going.


    After the Moores left, Ste returned to her reading.


    Bran''s voice would asionally crackle through the inte, breaking her focus.


    N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.


    "Ste, how about a hot stew tonight?"


    "Ste, you fancy some beef ormb?"


    "Ste, got some meds about to expire, want ''em?"


    Ste kept her distance from him, often turning off the inte.


    Security was improving outside, with Austin and his crew of dealers thriving in business.


    After enduring the endless night, the stark divide between the rich and the poor came ringly into


    light. Many affluent socialites, now impoverished and desperate, tearfully resorted to selling off their


    most prized possessions. Their Chanel dresses, Loewe handbags, and Hermes high heels, once


    symbols of status and wealth, were now hawked at nighttime bazaars with the hope of exchanging


    them for much-needed food supplies.


    The survivors who walked by could barely contain their derision—luxury items exchanged for food,


    a symbol of a world that no longer existed.


    "The rich and their fancy clothes, they''ve got no ce in this new world," they''d scoff.


    The ruffians around here had no shame. One of them, a cocky guy with a smirk, sidled up to the


    well-dresseddy, who was trying to sell some of her luxury items at a local flea market. "Hey,


    gorgeous," he drawled, eyeing her collection with mock interest, "this stuff ain''t worth a stale


    sandwich, but you? You''re a looker. How about you ditch this junk ande home with me?"


    Flushed with embarrassment and anger, the wealthy girls clutched their pearls and scurried home,


    their eyes streaming with tears, mourning the indignity of it all.


    After the incident, swallowing their pride and clutching to thest strands of their dignity, one of the


    ladies sought out Austin. "Austin," she began, her voice a mixture of desperation and hope, "look at


    these treasures. This dress cost me a fortune—$128,000 to be exact. It''s a limited edition; I''ve only


    worn it once. And this luxury brand handbag, I''ve kept it in mint condition, the tags are still on.


    Please tell me you can find a buyer for these?"