Free Web NovelChapter 52: Chapter 52 – Fractures
Iyisha’s hand tightened around the clipboard, her eyes skimming the patient notes without really reading them. She had been distracted all morning, her mind caught on images she wished she could forget.
Mary slowed beside her, the students trailing a few steps behind as they moved through the ward. "What’s wrong?" she asked softly.
"Nothing," Iyisha said quickly, lowering her gaze to the paper in her hands.
Mary studied her for a moment. "You haven’t come with us to the greenhouse in days."
"I just need more time with Malcolm," Iyisha answered, forcing a small shrug.
The truth made her chest ache. Time with Malcolm meant almost nothing now. He joined her at dinner, silent and distant, and when the lamps dimmed he lay beside her as if she were nothing more than a pillow. Even when she tried to close the space between them, to draw his eyes and his touch back to her, he remained unmoved. She could not tell if he truly felt nothing or if he had buried it where she could never reach.
She lifted the clipboard higher, using it as a shield, hoping Mary would drop the subject.
They continued their rounds until a commotion broke near the entrance of the ward. Two men stumbled in, one holding the other upright. Blood streaked across his cheek, the gash angry and raw, a crimson slash carved by broken glass. The sharp sting of alcohol clung to his clothes, and his words slurred as he cursed the man who had struck him.
Mary quickly directed the students to prepare the instruments. Iyisha steadied her hands, guiding them through the steps. The wounded man hissed when the antiseptic touched the cut, his body jerking, but the students held firm, their faces pale with nerves. It became another lesson, a living subject for them to test what they had learned, while Mary’s voice reminded them to be calm and precise.
When the wound was cleaned and stitched, the man slumped onto the cot, muttering under his breath. The students dispersed, whispering among themselves, their energy drained from the experience.
Later, when the ward grew quiet and the two of them walked the corridor alone, Mary’s eyes slid toward Iyisha. "Did you see something you shouldn’t have?"
Iyisha froze mid-step, her fingers tightening on the clipboard. She swallowed hard, the memory of the greenhouse rushing back, the sounds, the glimpse of Ester and Elmer tangled together. Her pause was enough for Mary to notice.
"I..." Iyisha’s voice caught, and she turned away as if the notes in her hand suddenly mattered more than the question.
"You want to come to my place?" Mary asked suddenly.
Iyisha blinked at the change of topic. "Sure," she said, glancing at her with a mix of curiosity and hesitation.
They crossed the courtyard and entered a building Iyisha had never stepped into before. She had always assumed it was reserved for the higher bracket of the community, the ones who seemed to float above the daily struggles. The hallways were cleaner, the air itself carrying a faint perfume of polish and lavender instead of damp wood and sweat.
"If you see any dirt, do not say something," Mary teased with a grin. "I’m a doctor and single." She gave a light giggle that made Iyisha’s lips curve despite herself.
Mary unlocked the door and pushed it open. Iyisha stopped at the threshold, breath catching. The room was nothing like the bare bunks and patched walls she had grown used to. The space was layered with detail, almost overwhelming in its abundance.
It was maximalist, filled with bookshelves crammed to bursting, patterned rugs soft underfoot, gilded frames on the walls, and curtains heavy enough to block out the world outside. Expensive items gleamed from every corner, untouched by the dust of survival.
Mary crossed the room as if it were nothing unusual, switched on a sleek speaker, and music filled the air with smooth, steady notes that made the space feel even more unreal. She motioned toward a basket by the door. "Use slippers."
Iyisha slipped off her boots and slid her feet into the softest pair she had ever seen. They sank around her toes like clouds.
Mary gestured toward the sofa, a wide piece upholstered in velvet that looked brand new, as if the apocalypse had never touched it. Iyisha lowered herself onto it, her fingers brushing the armrest. The fabric felt rich under her skin, every corner of the room whispering of a life she thought the world had buried. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Iyisha sank deeper into the sofa, her hands brushing over the velvet, her eyes drifting from the gleam of brass lamps to the neat stacks of books that looked untouched by time. The music hummed around them, smooth and steady, and the slippers on her feet felt too soft to belong in this world.
She looked at Mary, who was pouring water into two glasses as if none of this were unusual. The question pressed at Iyisha’s lips until she could not hold it back.
"How did you get this?" she asked, her voice low, almost careful, as though speaking too loud might shatter the illusion.
Mary’s lips curved as though she had expected the question. Instead of answering, she crossed to a small cabinet and drew out a dark bottle of wine.
"I’ve been saving this for something special," she said instead, setting it on the table with a gentle thud. Her eyes flicked toward Iyisha with playful warmth. "And what could be more special than the two of us sitting here tonight as friends?"
Iyisha blinked, caught between surprise and disbelief. "Wine?"
Mary chuckled, pulling the cork with practiced ease. "What, did you think the end of the world meant I would stop enjoying the good things?" She poured two glasses, handing one across with a flourish. "Go on. Taste it. It’s better than that thin soup they call dinner."
The scent rose rich and heavy, dizzying. Iyisha accepted the glass, though her fingers tightened around the stem as her gaze drifted again across the room, over the velvet sofa and gleaming lamps. "Still doesn’t explain all this."
Mary only smiled wider, turning to the television tucked in the corner. She slipped a small USB into the port, and soon the screen flickered with color, a title card Iyisha hadn’t seen in years. Her breath caught, memory rising sharp and sudden.
Mary dropped onto the sofa beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I like living as if the apocalypse never happened," she said simply, raising her glass in a quiet toast. "If you let the world strip everything away, you forget who you are."
Iyisha sipped the wine, the taste rich on her tongue, and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was more unsettled or comforted.
The movie played across the screen, its colors soft and unreal after so long without films. Iyisha found herself laughing with Mary at the familiar lines, sipping the wine that left her cheeks warm. For a while, the weight of the community, of Malcolm, even of the greenhouse secret, slipped from her shoulders. It almost felt like the world outside had never collapsed.
When the credits rolled, silence settled, broken only by the hum of the speaker. Iyisha turned her glass in her hands, the last sip of red clinging to the bottom. The question returned, heavier now after seeing everything Mary had built around herself.
"How did you really get this?" she asked at last, her voice quiet but steady.
Mary didn’t answer right away. She leaned back against the velvet cushions, her eyes on the ceiling as though the words were written there. A faint smile touched her lips, not playful this time but edged with something sharper.
"I sleep with the men who can give it to me," she said simply. Her eyes flicked to Iyisha’s, unflinching. "That’s the trade. Sex for comfort. For all this."
Iyisha’s throat tightened. She stared at Mary, at the expensive rug underfoot, at the wine glass balanced so easily in her friend’s hand. The room suddenly felt colder despite its warmth, as though the truth had stripped it bare.
Her throat worked before sound came.
"How can you do this..." The words were a whisper, almost swallowed by the hum of the speaker.
Mary tilted her head, her expression calm, almost amused. "How can I not? Look around, Iyisha. This is my haven. Some hunt deer, some stitch wounds, and some of us trade what we have." She lifted her glass, swirling the red wine before finishing it in one swallow.
She poured another measure of wine, the liquid catching the light as it swirled.
"Did you see Ester last night?" Mary asked casually, her tone light, though her eyes never left Iyisha. "With Elmer."
Iyisha blinked, her hand tightening on the stem of the glass. She didn’t answer.
Mary’s lips curved, not in amusement but in something closer to understanding. "I know." She leaned back, folding one leg over the other, and took a slow sip. "Ester has been my friend since the beginning."
Iyisha lowered herself back onto the sofa, her pulse hammering, waiting for the rest.
Mary sighed, swirling her wine. "Unfortunately her husband was shot in one of the raids. Survived, but paralyzed from the waist down. Can’t hunt, can’t work, can’t earn his keep." She took another drink, her eyes sharp over the rim of the glass. "So Ester used her body as payment. Elmer gets what he wants, and she keeps her place here. That’s how it goes."
The music from the speaker felt too loud now, filling the silence that followed. Iyisha gripped her glass, the weight of the truth sinking deep, twisting with the memory of what she had seen through the crack of the door.
"I can’t do something like that," Iyisha said at last, her voice low but firm. She stared into her glass, the words tasting bitter as they left her mouth.
Mary laughed softly, not cruel but sharp enough to sting. "Don’t be a hypocrite." She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing with something sly. "Aren’t you doing the same?"
Iyisha’s head snapped up. "I am not."
Mary tilted her glass, the red wine catching the lamplight.
"Aren’t you selling your body for safety? For food? Malcolm, right?"
The words struck like a slap. Iyisha’s breath caught, her chest tightening as her mind stumbled for an answer.
No. That’s different. She likes him.
Mary only smiled, sipping her drink as though nothing heavy had been spoken.
Mary leaned forward, her gaze softer now. "I like you, Iyisha. Don’t ruin our friendship."
Iyisha swallowed, the wine in her hand forgotten.
Mary rose, collected her empty glass, and set it neatly on the counter. "It’s too late now. You should go." ƒгeewebnovёl.com
The dismissal was gentle but final. The music kept playing, smooth and careless, as if it belonged to another world entirely.
Iyisha stood slowly, slipping out of the slippers and back into her boots. The velvet cushions, the golden frames, the soft light of the lamps all of it pressed against her like a secret she had never asked to carry.
She stepped into the hall, the door closing behind her with a quiet click, leaving Mary in her world that looked nothing like the end of days.
