A knock at the door broke Dr. Faraday from her trance-like sleep, springing her back to life in a cold sweat, little Elsie in her arms still curled up next to her. The knock hadn't disturbed the sleeping child. She only moaned and rolled over. A red silk robe was on a hanger by the bathroom, Dr. Faraday draping it over her shoulders before she went to the door, still favoring her bandaged right arm. Living with air conditioning again after two years without power felt obscene, considering how she knew people were living outside of the building, but it was hard not to appreciate it. She glimpsed herself in the gigantic mirror that hung over a dresser, only to see a haggard, aged woman with dead eyes looking back at her. Had it been that long, that stressful? Wasn't this all some horrific dream?

Another knock, Dr. Faraday shuffling towards the door, looking through the fish-eyed hole in the door. A man in a sharp tuxedo with neatly gelled hair and a thin mustache stood with a tray in his hand. She turned the deadbolt and opened the door, feeling the whoosh from the hallway, causing her to collect up the robe that she found her gaunt body swimming in.

"Yes?"

"Dr. Faraday," the man gave her a brief nod before striding past her and into the room, laying down the tray on the dresser, pulling off the large domed cover to reveal a bottle of sparkling water, two glasses and two plates heaping with food. "Roasted chicken, baked potatoes and roasted carrots, for two, of course."

"Are you kidding me?" Her eyes grew large at the sight of not only fresh food, but eloquently prepared food. Russell, who served as the caravan's chef, was a line cook at a Denny's prior and did his best with what they had, but it was never anywhere near the ostentatious presentation in front of her. The aroma of the chicken alone filled up the room and left her feeling intoxicated.

"Compliments of Mr. Branch," the man explained, "this is one of his favorite dishes."

"Does everyone here eat like this?"

"Mostly, although some on the lower floors dine in the cafeteria," his tone visibly dismissive when speaking about the cafeteria.

"This is too much. You must tell Mr. Branch how much I appreciate this, mister, um?"

"Clyde," he said.

"Yes, Clyde, please send him our sincerest thanks for the room, the clothes and now the food."

"You can thank him yourself in the arena tonight."

"Oh?"

"I'm sure that you saw it on your way in," he said, standing rigid in the doorway. "That mass of a structure appended to this marvelous building, that is."

"The big hodgepodge? I thought that was some sort of refugee camp of sorts."

"One could say that."

"So this is some sort of event?" She probed further, not happy with what he was withholding.

"Yes, the premiere entertainment here at Branch Tower. You have a personal invitation from Mr. Branch, which I hope you understand the gravity of. That's an honor that most will never be extended."

"I'm sure it'll be very interesting."

"Uh huh," he seemed disgusted by her lack of enthusiasm, "I've done the honor of preparing outfits for both of you."

He exited the room, then wheeled in a rack with two hangers on it, covered in black garment bags with two pairs of black heel shoes sitting on the base, most likely leather and recently polished. Clyde unzipped the bag when Dr. Faraday smiled at him and stopped him.

"It's been a while, but we remember how to dress ourselves. Thank you, Clyde."

"Madame, this is my job and Mr. Branch..."

"I'm sure that Mr. Branch appreciates your attention to detail, but the girl just lost her parents and I just saw the only people that I had left in the world mowed down by assault rifles and a horde of the undead. We need some time on our own for now. We'll graciously accept Mr. Branch's offer, but we could use some time to at least change on our own."

"I... I understand," he said, "I'll return in three hours to deliver you both to Mr. Branch's private box."

The door closed behind him with a subtle click, although it made Elsie jump. Somehow she had slept through his entire visit, but the sound of the door clicking pulled her from her slumber with a gasp. She sat up, covered in sweat, hyperventilating and thrashing in the sheets.

"Where am I? Where am I? Mom? Mom!?"

"Oh sweetie," Dr. Faraday cradled her in her good arm, being careful with her right, "sweetie it's alright, Auntie Ruth is here."

"Auntie Ruth?" She looked up at her, like a lost little lamb. "Where's my mom? My sister?"

"Oh sweetie, sweetie," she ran her fingers through the girl's hair. "I'm here now, that's what matters. We are safe inside of the Tower. Remember the Tower?"

"I... Mom..." The girl fell silent, the memories returning to her right before Dr. Faraday's eyes. Her heart broke again, like it had dozens of times since the fall, like she thought it couldn't anymore. That's one lesson that she has learned; that heartbreak doesn't have its limitations. It wasn't a singular event and it would and could repeat itself without end.

"I'm sorry, Elsie, I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?"

"I don't know, darling, I don't know. I just am."