Chapter 136
Evelyn’s Provocation
The dim emergency lights flickered weakly in the hallway, casting long shadows against the peeling wallpaper. The air inside the apartment complex was thick with the scent of unwashed bodies, desperation, and the faintest traces of mildew. A few residents lingered in the corridor, their faces gaunt, their eyes sunken with hunger.
Evelyn stood in the center of it all, her voice sharp as a blade.
"We’re all starving, and yet he walks around like nothing’s wrong," she hissed, pointing toward Karl’s apartment door. "Have you seen his face? Does he look like someone who’s been skipping meals? No. He’s hoarding food while the rest of us suffer."
Some of the residents shifted uneasily, casting glances at one another. The idea had been whispered among them before, but no one had dared say it outright—until now.
Julia, standing near the stairwell, frowned. "We don’t know that, Evelyn," she said, arms crossed. "Maybe he just prepared better. Maybe he had supplies from before everything went to hell."
Evelyn whirled on her, her eyes flashing with frustration. "Oh, of course you’d say that. You always play the moral high ground. But tell me, Julia, does your so-called morality fill your stomach at night?" Her lips curled into a sneer. "Does it stop the hunger pains?"
Julia pursed her lips, her face tightening. "Breaking into someone’s home isn’t right. It’s not our food, Evelyn."
Evelyn scoffed. "And what’s right? Sitting here waiting to die while Karl eats like a damn king?" Her voice rose, and the crowd stirred. "We’ve seen the signs. He’s fine. No panic. No hunger. No desperation. That’s not normal."
A man from the group, Emmet, a once-stocky maintenance worker now reduced to skin and bone, muttered, "I did hear something the other night. Like pots clanking."
"And I swear I smelled meat last week," a woman added, her voice hoarse. "Like something roasting."