The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 467

Chapter 467 Strawberries She’d Never Seen

That was the way back home.

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In Starlight District, Building C17.

This run–down apartment building was tucked away among rows of cramped, ramshackle housing, its outer walls peeling, the lights in the stairwell long since broken and never fixed.

Enola climbed the creaking stairs, one step at a time.

Fourth floor, the door on the left.

She stood outside the door for a moment, took a deep breath, and composed her expression.

She couldn’t let her mother see, and she couldn’t let her worry.

The door was unlocked.

She pushed it open gently, and a familiar smell drifted out.

It was the smell of liquid supplements, mixed with the bitter tang of cheap disinfectant.

The living room was tiny,

But at this moment,

the scene inside.

big enough to hold a worn–out couch and a wobbly table.

ba weren’t on the battered furniture. They went straight through the open inner doorway, landing on

ola’s

Her eight–year–old sister, Eileen Beck, stood beside the bed holding a chipped plastic bowl.

Inside was a thin, watery porridge, so thin you could see the pattern on the bottom of the bowl, with just a few grains of rice bobbing in the clear liquid.

On the bed, a frail woman was half sitting up, her wrists and ankles loosely tied to the corners of the bed with soft cloth strips.

Her face was pale, her eyes sunken, her cheekbones jutting out sharply, her whole body wasted down to nothing but bones.

But those eyes were still moving, fixed on her younger sister with a look full of aching love.

“Mom, please, just one sip,” Eileen’s voice was soft and coaxing. “Just one sip, okay?”

The woman on the bed shook her head, her voice weak but firm. “No, save it. When your sister gets home, you two can have it together.”

“Enola and I have our liquid supplements,” Eileen said. “I made this for you. You’re sick. You need real food to get better.”

“Real food, my foot. It’s just a waste of money.” The woman turned her head away. “Take it. I won’t drink it.”

“Mom…”

“I said no, and I mean no.”

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Chapter 467 Strawberries She’d Never Seen

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And so the mother and daughter kept pushing back and forth, with that watery little bowl of porridge becoming a luxury neither one would accept.

Enola stood in the doorway watching the scene, her chest aching like someone had reached in and squeezed her heart.

She drew in a deep breath, blinked hard, and pushed down the lump in her throat.

Then she put on a bright smile and pushed the door open

“Mom! Eileen! I’m home!”

The woman on the bed turned her head, and her little sister whipped around too.

“Enola!” Eileen’s eyes lit up for a second but then dimmed again, and she asked carefully, “Why… why are you home so early today?”

Enola knew exactly what her sister was worried about.

Normally at this hour, she’d still be putting in overtime.

Coming home this early meant something was wrong. Had she been fired?

She walked over, ruffled her sister’s hair, and smiled. “I switched jobs today. The new one lets out earlier.”

“Switched jobs?” The woman on the bed struggled to sit up. “What do you mean you switched jobs? Wasn’t Seafarm Group going just fine?”

Enola hurried over and gently held her down. “Mom, don’t move. It’s a good thing. I found a better job.”

She lifted the big bag in her hand and gave it a little shake.

“Look. I brought home something good to eat!”

Eileen’s eyes went wide.

Enola set the bag down at the edge of the bed and started pulling things ouzone at a time.

The strawberries came out first.

The bright red berries glowed beautifully in the dim light, plump and shiny, giving off a faint sweet scent.

Eileen’s mouth fell open into a perfect O.

“Strawberries…” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Enola, are those strawberries? The ones from the commercial? Those strawberries?”

Enola smiled and nodded. “Yes. Strawberries.”

Eileen’s eyes were shining like nothing Enola had ever seen, and she leaned in close, staring at the berries like she was looking at some kind of priceless treasure.

“The commercial said they’re so good, super sweet and super fragrant… mmm, they really do smell so good…” she whispered to herself, reaching out a hand, hesitating just before touching them. “I’ve never seen real strawberries before…”

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