18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 576

Good news-Reagan had finally come around.

But he was as weak as a newborn calf, barely able to say a word.

Emily was right there, fussing over him like a mother hen. "Stella, I can't thank you enough for the medicine."

"Just doing what I can," Stella said, handing over a steaming bowl of chicken soup. "Uncle Hugh's as weak as a leaf, and porridge won't cut it. Luckily, the farm's chickens were ready for the coop, so I cooked one up especially."

Emily knew too well that porridge was about as nourishing as a wet paper towel compared to a hearty potato stew.

The aroma of the soup was tantalizing. Even someone of Reagan's stature hadn't had a taste in years.

Knowing her husband needed strength, Emily didn't hesitate. She figured she'd return the favor with a gift once her husband was on the mend.

Carefully, she spoon-fed him.

After a few comforting words, Stella got to her feet, suggesting Emily should drop by the farm whenever she could to pick up some chickens and help Uncle Hugh regain his strength.

Exiting the intensive care unit, the pair carried another bowl of chicken soup toward the monitoring room.

Nicholas was gone. Mrs. Shaw was there, a symphony of sobs escaping her as she kept vigil by her son's side.

After receiving medicine, Nicholas had woken up the night before, but he was in a

bad way.

He wasn't out of the woods yet, and from all the tests, it seemed the fever had triggered meningitis.

Even before the calamity, meningitis was a notorious killer, and without antibiotics, the survival rate was abysmal.

Nicholas had brain damage, his hearing gone, and he kept vomiting.

stave off the worst, life could be a living hell, not

they had to

Shaw, hysterical, accosted the doctor, "Why is this happening? The meds were the same. Why is Reagan fine, but my

calm, replied, "Please, Mrs. Shaw, every

Shaw wouldn't have it. "You must have botched it,

they were administered. As for the

especially with Nicholas, a man known for being difficult. There was no room

still, they faced

her son's life hanging by a thread,

medicine. What are you waiting for?

the door

never met Stella, was about to scold this brash intruder in the monitoring room when it dawned on her who it

went pale as

and a healthy glow, it

not expected Stella to appear at the hospital, and her offhand

after all, was the daughter

"Mrs. Shaw, you can mess up your

Space for explanations,

Stella left no space

no doctor. It was

respect for his service to the country

people oversaw the process, and the hospital vetted the medicine. And now you dare

I possess some kind of panacea? Even if the nation's top physician

bowl of soup on the ground. The clay floor held, but the soup

from Stella and took two

to her vomiting son, could only

who had come hurrying over. She didn't give him the time of day and headed straight home, expecting

station, the officers were escorting a group back-young men in their twenties, older

forties, her clothes torn, her body marked with the evidence of

take much