"You're the CEO of Holland Group! Where's your class? Where's your charm?" Cassian smirked, picked up his fork like nothing happened, and said, "Enough talk. Let's eat." Natalie stared at him. No word came out. There was nothing she could do about him. She wanted to drop her fork and storm back to her room, but the smell of the food kept her in her chair. Especially those chicken wings; nobody could cook them like he did. Those takeout meals she kept in her storage space couldn't even come close. Natalie hesitated a moment. In the end, she picked up her fork again. She wasn't some mindless foodie, but this man was too talented at cooking, and there was no escape for her. Cassian kept smiling, calm and graceful, eating without saying another word. He let her enjoy the meal in peace. After lunch, Natalie quickly shoved him toward his room. "Go get some rest. I'll do the dishes." "I'll help," Cassian said. "No, no, I'll do it myself!" She only wanted some time alone. Cassian gave her a look but didn't argue. He went back to his room quietly. Natalie let out a sigh of relief. She washed the dishes as fast as she could, then escaped to the 15th floor. She didn't even dare stop by Olivia's place.That woman would only pester her with questions and gossip about their progress. Instead, Natalie grabbed a few bags of snacks and headed to Harold's apartment. When Harold opened the door and saw her, he was rather surprised. "Idol? What brought you here?" He leaned past her to peek. "Where's Mr. Holland?" Natalie said nothing. Was there no place she could go without hearing that name? She didn't answer his question. "I was cleaning up and found some snacks. I thought I'd come share with Ghania." She peeked inside the house and called out, "Ghania! I'm here!" Ghania came running out, all smiles. "Nat! Come in!" Natalie switched into house slippers and stepped inside. Mother and son were busy at the table, getting ravioli ready. Natalie saw a bowl of filling and a lump of rested dough ready. "You haven't eaten yet?" Natalie asked. Ghania shook her head. "We just had lunch. But I just picked some vegetables, so I thought I'd make pork and fennel ravioli for tonight." Now they usually ate only twice a day, one meal at noon and one in the evening. Natalie nodded. "Then let me help." Ghania didn't refuse. She let Natalie wash her hands, then sat down with them. The three of them worked on shaping the ravioli while talking. "Is Mr. Holland still staying at your place?" Ghania asked. Natalie's hands froze for a moment. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in Cassian? She gave a small nod. "It's been raining acid outside nonstop. He has nowhere else to go." Ghania's lips curved. "Well, look at you. That's pretty generous of you." Natalie caught the hidden meaning in her tone. Her ears warmed, and she didn't know what to say. She had a reputation for being tough and cold-hearted, never the type to help others. But Cassian was different. Hearing his mom mention Cassian, Harold chimed in, "Idol, he's flown his helicopter here so many times. Doesn't that mean he likes you?" Natalie stayed quiet. Cassian's feelings weren't exactly a secret in the neighborhood. Ghania looked at her face and laughed. "You don't know how to deal with him liking you, so you're hiding out here, right?" Natalie gave her a surprised look. She wanted to argue but realized there was no point. Instead she asked, "How do you know everything, Ghania?" Ghania just smiled. She knew both of the girls downstairs well. Olivia was outgoing and restless, always dropping by to chat. Natalie was the opposite—quiet, unsocial, and happier at home by herself. For her to rush upstairs like this, it was obvious she was running from relationship trouble. "Sweetheart, when you've lived as long as I have, you know." Ghania teased. Then she grew gentler and comforted Natalie. "You worry too much. Do what feels right; that's all."Natalie murmured, "Do what feels right?" Ghania spelled it out. "If you didn't like him, you wouldn't have let him stay in your house." Natalie hurried to explain, "That's because I feel like I owe him." Back at Cassiland Base, Cassian had always looked out for her. They worked together, but she was the one who gained all the advantages. During the plague, he risked his life again and again, flying over just to check on her. Between them, things never felt equal. Unlike with Olivia and Harold—where everything balanced out and no one owed the other—things with Cassian felt different. He always gave more, and that left her with a quiet sense of guilt. Ghania smiled kindly. "Silly child, love is nothing more than always feeling like you owe someone." Love? Natalie's hands froze over the dough. She didn't dare let that word touch her. In the apocalypse, love meant danger, weakness, and vulnerability—words as terrifying as the world outside. Harold, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "He sacrifices for you. You feel guilty because you like him. If you didn't, you'd just think he was doing it on his own."