“Ms. Rosemary… please, just eat a little.”
Mila placed a bowl of soup in front of her employer, who sat stiffly in the chair by the window. Rosemary’s eyes were empty, staring out as if her entire life had burned along with her boutique.
“I’m not hungry, Mila.” Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.
“M-Ma’am… you haven’t eaten in two days. Just drinking water won’t keep your strength up,” Mila pleaded, nearly in tears.
Rosemary shook her head weakly. “What’s the point of being strong? There’s nothing left to fight for. Everything is gone.”
Mila fell silent, her chest tight as she watched the woman who had once been so strong now crumble into despair.
---
Suddenly, the apartment doorbell rang sharply. Mila rushed to answer it, only to freeze in shock.
“Cassandra?” she hissed sharply.
