This time, things were different. In her past life, Natalie had been so malnourished that she stopped having her period before she even hit thirty. Half a month flew by. That morning, Natalie woke up early as usual and started her Pilates routine. She was halfway through when someone banged hard on her front door. Natalie froze. Then she moved to the hallway and slid open the cover on the peephole Harold had customized for her. He'd rigged it so she could flip a lens over the hole. With the lens in place, it worked like a regular peephole. Remove the lens, and it turns into a shooting port. She peered outside—and saw someone she didn't expect. It was Olivia, Daniel's wife. Olivia's face was twisted with pain. Sweat dripped down her forehead. One hand clutched the doorframe. The other gripped her stomach. She looked like she could collapse at any second. She's hurt? "Ms. Ashford, are you home?" Natalie's first instinct was to ignore her. But then a thought hit her. She hesitated, then opened the door. Her hand still gripped the bayonet tightly. "What's wrong with you?" Natalie asked flatly. Olivia's face lit up with relief. "Ms. Ashford, I'm so sorry to bother you. I live right below you, in 1301. Do you ... do you have any antibiotics? Or herbs for postpartum recovery? If you do, can you please spare some?" Natalie glanced at her stomach. If she remembered right, Olivia had been pregnant. But those herbs—Natalie had only ever used them for her dog, Lucky. They helped with blood flow and periods. Definitely not safe for pregnant women. Her eyes narrowed. Did she lose the baby? Natalie thought back. In her last life, she barely had contact with Daniel and Olivia. She only remembered Daniel dying during a supply run, drowning when he slipped. Not long after, Olivia was found dead at home. Looking at Olivia now—pale, weak, clutching her stomach—it all made sense. A miscarriage brought on by no medicine, no food; her body had simply given out. Olivia's voice shook. "I know it's rude to ask, but I have no choice. Please, I'm begging you." Her life had fallen apart after Daniel died. Every day was a struggle—scavenging, carrying heavy loads, barely eating. Her body had been breaking down for weeks. Then two days ago, masked raiders broke into her place. They fought, and one of them kicked her hard in the stomach. The baby didn't survive.Her husband was already gone. Now the child, too. Olivia had almost given up, lying on the floor, ready to die. But then Owen's face flashed through her mind. Owen—the man responsible for Daniel's death. Because of him, she was alone. Because of him, her child was gone. But Owen was still living just fine. She was a doctor, Daniel was a programmer—their family had once lived a quiet and steady life, yet now it had all been shattered. And Owen, that murderer, still wore a hypocritical smile as he went on living like nothing had happened. A fierce will to survive suddenly surged within Olivia. I'm not dying. Not like this. She forced herself to finish the miscarriage on her own. But without antibiotics or medicine, she knew she wouldn't last. There weren't many people in the building who still had medical supplies. Only Natalie or Harold upstairs. But Harold was a guy. No way he had the kind of women's medicine she needed. So Olivia came here. Natalie stared at her coldly. "And why should I give you my medicine?" Olivia lowered her eyes. She is right. Why would anyone help me? Olivia didn't guilt-trip her, didn't beg again. She just said softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Supplies were too rare. Medicine was priceless. In this world, anyone with a stash would keep it for themselves first. She had known that coming here. Almost nobody greeted strangers kindly anymore. And no matter how nice someone sounded, you couldn't force them to share. With natural disasters raging, every supply had become priceless—especially medicine, something that could mean the difference between life and death. If this really were the end of the world, of course, everyone would keep whatever medicine they had for themselves first. "Sorry for troubling you," she whispered. She turned to leave. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where my life ends. She didn't mind. At least she had tried. But then Natalie's voice called out. "Wait." Olivia froze. Slowly, she turned back. Natalie held a folded note in her hand, shielding it with her shirt so Olivia couldn't see where it came from. "Did you leave this on my door?" Olivia blinked. "I ... I did. At least, I left a note once." Natalie's eyes narrowed. "What did it say?" Olivia met her gaze. "It was a warning. I told you someone was planning to raid your place." She hadn't joined the raid. After Daniel's death, she stopped running with the building's crew. She scavenged on her own. That day, she'd left her apartment and noticed the door of 1302 across the hall standing wide open, with a crowd of neighbors gathering there.