When the World Ends, She Begins novel Chapter 43

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.

I'm not dying. Not like this.

She is right. Why would anyone help me?

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