18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 469

Discussing why Lillian got hurt was enough to give the warden a migraine. "Area F is a madhouse, full of folks with dual diagnoses. Not a single sane soul among them, and the numbers just keep growing. We’re fresh out of management strategies," he lamented.

These folks might be off their rockers, but they sure knew how to pick on the weaker ones—the meek and the women.

Sure, the wardens were there, but they weren't superhuman. They couldn't keep eyes on every patient all the time, and training or reforming this crowd was a lost cause.

We've got a disciplinary ward, but what good is punishment to someone who's lost their mind?

Lillian was an easy target, bullied by both men and women. The wardens had stepped in more times than they could count. The aggressors, when lucid, would apologize, but in the throes of their illness, they lost all traces of humanity.

And Lillian? She was like wet clay—no form, no resilience. Aside from her constant, delirious cries for Stella, she was passive to a fault.

After several conversations, it was clear to the wardens that Lillian's mental state wasn't as severe as some others. With the right cooperation, she could be healed and moved to Area E.

Area E housed those with physical ailments, mentally more stable than the folks in Area F, where you had to earn your keep to get your meals.

But Lillian was a complex case.

Even in the base, it was a dog-eat-dog world. If the warden were in Lillian's shoes, he'd have fought back against the bullies. After all, they were all in the same sinking ship.

Lillian, however, was prone to dodging issues, mistaking her naivety for cleverness, and always pinning her hopes on others. In the end, her reliance on others was her downfall.

But as a warden, there were thoughts he kept to himself.

Listening to all this, Stella remained expressionless.

The woman before her was a shadow of her former self, a far cry from the pampered life Lillian once led.

Always depending on someone else.

What was going through Lillian's mind?

Born into a world that didn't want her, tossed into an orphanage, ignored for years, and nearly killed for someone else's gain.

Why couldn't she stop fixating on it?

Julia was her pride and joy, Daniel her knight in shining armor. Why weren't they on her mind now?

Stella watched as Lillian's breath grew ragged.

Lillian reached out, blood smeared across her face, trying to muster a smile. "Ginger... Ginger... I'm sorry... it was me... my fault."

Her arm fell limp, her eyes wide open, never to close again.

In her final moments, Lillian's life flashed before her eyes like a flickering film. She had held on to the hope of her beloved returning.

And he did return.

She had the child, the wedding, and the blissful family life.

Stella, I'm sorry.

Daniel, I'm sorry.

She had the courage to love but not to hold on.

She wanted everything but ended up with nothing.

What she did have was never what she truly wanted.

The hospital had procedures for the deceased. Stella glanced at Lillian one last time and walked away, not back to work but out to the hospital entrance for some fresh air.

As she reached the door, along came Bran, huffing and puffing.

Stella raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be hauling bricks?"

Bran looked at her with feigned innocence. "Yeah, but I overate last night, still feeling stuffed, so I'm out for a jog."

Stella eyed him skeptically. "You look more like a starving ghost than someone with indigestion."

Bran chuckled. "Sis, I'm craving a smoke."

As if he needed one. The guy just needed to scratch an itch.

Fortunately, Stella had a few stale cigarettes left over. "My brother-in-law's got a couple left. I'll hook you up when I get a chance."

Bran beamed at her. "You're the best, sis."

Stella paused, then smirked. "Can't get rid of you no matter how hard I try."

After all, a little kindness never hurt, especially to someone who'd been like a brother to her.