Chapter 289 Sheena Memories — The Young Foreigner, and the Baby in the Midst of Famine
The sun hung dimly in the sky, cracked by gray clouds.
Sheena ran, her legs trembling and her breath cutting through the air like a dull knife, signaling her despair. The ground beneath her—once bright and warm—had transformed into cold, stinging dust, as if attempting to block her path. Having crossed the threshold of prolonged exile that had confined her, she was now embarking on an unexpected journey full of uncertainty; a journey that shook her soul and challenged her courage.
The tower that had once imprisoned her with its cold and terrifying walls was now far behind, a mere shadow on the horizon.
Before her lay the nearly deserted town market, evoking a hauntingly melancholic atmosphere. The traders had closed their once-bustling stalls, leaving behind a silence that was only interrupted by the sighing wind, carrying memories of laughter and joy. The cheerful sounds of children playing and the rhythmic clatter of trains that used to fill the air had long since disappeared, replaced by an eerie and tense silence that marked a profound loss for the entire community.
Yet, the aroma of warm bread and tempting pastries lingered, floating in the air, reminding her of better times.
Her body could no longer endure, weary from the struggle against hunger and weakness.
Bruk.
Sheena fell among the sharp and unwelcoming street stones. Her knees scraped against the rough surface, blood dripping down onto the dry ground. Her hands trembled, unable to support her weight.
Her stomach let out a loud, embarrassing growl, reminiscent of a wild beast forgotten in the darkness. It had been days since she last ate, and even water betrayed her—everything she touched seemed to turn into unenjoyable gold, heavy and burdensome in her hands, confirming her dire state of starvation.