Chapter 2

If that was the case, she refused to accept her fate. A thought took hold of her.

If no one was coming to save her, she would save herself.

She sat down at the desk and wrote a letter. A new application. This time, in her own name.

After finishing it, she gathered up the savings she had accumulated over the years.

"In the seven years she had been married to Liam, she may not have held the same standing as him, but she was far from an ordinary Combat Medic. She was a Mortuary Restorer for Fallen Heroes."

And it was precisely this role that might allow her to apply for a partial military medical subsidy.

Combined with the money she had saved over the years, perhaps it could save her life.

After doing all this, she felt a flicker of appetite for the first time in a long while.

She walked into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of noodles.

The clock on the wall showed it was nearly eleven at night.

She made a quiet plan: first thing tomorrow morning, she would go to the post office and mail the application.

Then, footsteps sounded outside the door.

Liam pushed it open and stopped when he saw her.

"You came back and didn't tell me?"

At the sound of his voice, she looked up.

Across the room, the radio on the low cabinet crackled with static. The snow outside was interfering with the signal.

Liam glanced at it, walked over, and turned it off.

"I've told you not to listen to the radio."

"It's late. The base's subsidies haven't come through yet this year. Cut back."

No word of welcome. No question about how she had been.

She had spent three days on the train. Even a casual acquaintance would have asked if she was tired.

Elara's chest ached with a dull, persistent pain, but her voice remained steady.

"I haven't eaten all day. I was starving. And I only used a little."

By the time she finished the sentence, bitter tears were already silently slipping from the corners of her eyes.

The truth was, she could barely eat anymore.

Her body no longer had the strength to digest food properly.

Liam was a commander.

His monthly salary alone exceeded a thousand dollars, plus additional supply subsidies.

There was no shortage of food.

But in his eyes, she was made of iron.

She didn't get sick. She didn't need to eat.

Yet for Chloe, a mild concussion, he had unhesitatingly mobilized medical resources.

Bitterness spread through Elara's chest, growing heavier and heavier, until it was almost suffocating.

Then, without warning, a sharp, piercing pain erupted in her chest.

Moments later, the metallic taste of blood filled her nose.

A single drop of blood fell onto her pale hand, blooming outward.

She instinctively raised her hand to wipe it away.

But the blood kept coming. Before she could stop it, it had splattered across the lower half of her face.

Liam walked toward her, his voice impatient. "I was just reminding you. There's no need to lose your temper at me."

"You—" He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the blood spreading across her face. His tone shifted. "What... what's wrong with you?"

Her voice came out weak and choked. She couldn't hold it in any longer.

Fighting through the pain and the grievance, she forced out the words, one by one:

"That is my blood, Liam."

The emotional turmoil made everything worse for a body that was already barely holding together.

Her legs gave way beneath her. She swayed, steadying herself only by gripping the edge of the table.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at Liam.

And she realized—she no longer recognized the man standing before her.

Had these years together been nothing but her imagination?

It was Liam who had pulled her out of that suffocating, backward family.

It was he who had used every connection he had to persuade a military doctor to take her as an apprentice, so she could stay by his side.

He had broken his own principles. Just this once. All for her.

"You're bleeding so much... Are you—"

As she thought this, the light in Elara's eyes dimmed, leaving behind only emptiness and numbness.

Perhaps he would have done all this for anyone. Perhaps she had never been special. Perhaps she had simply been lucky.

After all, he had broken his principles again. For Chloe.

He had given up a spot without hesitation.

For a girl with a minor injury.

She wanted to ask him why.

But before the words could leave her mouth, a searing, needle-like pain stabbed straight through her chest.

Breathing became difficult. She forced herself to endure it. "It's nothing."

Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, step by unsteady step, until she reached the courtyard.