A gruesome scar ran from the corner of his forehead down to his left cheek in a straight line, as if someone had sliced through him with a blade.
His name was Jeff, a man Alana felt deeply conflicted about... because he was no ordinary survivor. In fact, he was the president of the country, a figure once respected throughout the world.
Seeing him now, broken and breathless, was surreal and heavy with meaning.
For a brief moment, she felt tempted to call Ivy over and reveal his identity, hoping to secure better care for him, because if the apocalypse ever ended, Jeff might become invaluable to Ivy's leadership.
But remembering Ivy's fragile state, Alana only muttered under her breath, "Once Ivy is stable, I'll tell her everything." With that resolve, she continued healing Jeff.
On the other hand, Silas was carrying Ivy princess-style, his arms firm yet gentle, while she looked up at him in confusion.
"Are you sure you're telling me everything?" she asked softly.
