Chapter 17 The Foxes

• The snow had stopped falling for the moment, but the weight of the cold still pressed on Lucy’s chest, making each breath feel more labored than the last. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, the fabric thick but still insufficient against the chill. The world outside was suffocating, with the relentless freeze showing no sign of letting up. But Lucy had learned long ago that she couldn’t stop for the cold. Not now. Not when people needed help.
• Her two modified vehicles sat side by side in the garage, engines prepped and ready for the dangerous journey into the heart of the city. With the government’s watchful eye over Talawan, Lucy’s routine had become more cautious. She was careful to leave no traces of her movements and to keep a low profile as she made her medicine drop-offs. She’d been doing it for months now—sending herbs, balms, and poultices to the government drop-off points, disguised as someone who was barely scraping by.
• The only time she felt a shred of purpose, of something real, was when she saw the few grateful faces she could still help. The rest of the world had grown colder, but Lucy couldn’t abandon those who still needed something—anything—to survive.