Cassian glanced sideways at Natalie, his lips curling in a faint, knowing smile. Out in the hallway, a little girl, about ten years old, tiptoed her way up the stairs. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly on the door to the 14th floor. Inside, Natalie and Cassian didn't hear anything—the TV was turned up too loud. Olivia, however, heard the knock and came to the door. She called through it, "Who is it?" The little girl tilted her head. "Are you my mom?" Olivia peered through the peephole. A thin, fragile child stood there. Her voice softened. "I'm not your mom. Do you need something?" The girl's lower lip stuck out. "Mom, I'm hungry." Olivia frowned. This child seemed clueless, maybe not fully understanding her words. She repeated firmly, "I'm not your mom. You've got the wrong person." She turned, ready to head back to her room. The girl's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, don't you want Lottie anymore?" Olivia froze in her tracks. Her hand went to her stomach. Lottie. That was the name she and her husband had whispered for the baby they lost before birth. The baby hadn't been far enough along to be given an official name, but her husband had loved pressing his ear against her belly, calling her Lottie. After a while, she had started calling the baby that too.Now the little girl outside sobbed harder. "Mom, it hurts." Hurts? Olivia's mind flashed to her unborn child. That fierce kick to her stomach ripped the baby away from her too soon. Surely, her daughter was in pain. If her daughter had lived, she would have been just about the right age to be calling her "Mom" now. The cries outside grew sharper each time she called out to her mom, stabbing at her chest. Olivia pressed her eye to the peephole and scanned the hallway carefully. She made sure no one else was around before slowly unlocking and opening the door. The girl's face lit up. She rushed forward and threw herself into Olivia's arms. "Mom!" Olivia's eyes darted around again, cautious. Only then did she crouch down to meet the girl's gaze. "Let me see, honey. Where does it hurt?" The child pulled up her oversized pants. "Here." Olivia looked down and saw the girl's right calf badly burned from the acid rain. She quickly said, "Stay here and be good. I'll go inside and get some medicine." The little girl grabbed her sleeve. "Mom, don't leave me." Olivia crouched and explained gently, "Lottie, just wait here for a moment. I need to get the medicine. Once I put it on, the wound will heal, and then it won't hurt anymore." The child reluctantly let go. "Mom, hurry back.""I will," Olivia promised. Olivia walked back to her apartment and opened the door. For just a moment, the little girl caught a glimpse inside. The place was stacked high with supplies. But before she could look closer, the door shut tight. The girl lowered her eyes and stood quietly in place. She waited without a sound. Soon, Olivia returned with bread, burn aid cream, and a bottle of water. She tore the bread in half and offered it. "Eat something." The little girl acted like she hadn't eaten in days. She grabbed the bread and devoured it fast. While the little girl was distracted, Olivia gently pulled up her pants and rinsed the burn on her leg with clean water. The girl focused on eating. Even though the pain made tears run down her cheeks, she didn't make a sound. Olivia's heart ached as she looked at her. She carefully spread burn aid cream over the wound. It wasn't perfect treatment, but it was the best she could do with what she had. That cream had come from supplies she had gotten in a trade with Cyril and his group. It wasn't the most suitable medicine for the girl's injury, but it was better than none. The girl soon finished the bread. She licked the wrapper, then whispered, "It hurts so much." Olivia comforted her softly. "Hang on. The medicine will keep it from getting infected." The girl nodded, obedient and brave. "Thank you, Mom." Then her eyes turned toward the leftover water Olivia had used to rinse her leg. "Mom, can I drink that?"Olivia smiled and handed her the bottle. "Of course." The girl drank it quickly. She had just opened her mouth to say something else when a frantic figure rushed toward them. "Lottie!!" A woman shouted, her voice sharp. "You psycho! Let go of my daughter!" Olivia saw the woman charging at her and instinctively pulled the gun from behind her back. "Stop right there!" But the woman didn't seem afraid at all. She kept shouting, "Let go of my daughter!" Olivia blinked in surprise and turned to the little girl. "She's your daughter?" It made sense. This woman knew the girl's name, so she must be her mother. Olivia's voice softened. "Your daughter's burns are pretty bad. I just put medicine on them." The woman noticed the cream in Olivia's hand. Her face finally eased, and she muttered, "Thank you." Then she pulled the girl into her arms, holding her tight. "Lottie, are you okay?" The little girl shook her head. Since her mother had come, Olivia turned and closed her door. The girl looked back at it with longing. Her mother carried her downstairs, hugging her close as she scolded, "Didn't you hear those men talking? That psycho is dangerous! How dare you go up here?" The girl shook her head. "Mom, that scary lady wasn't mean at all."