Chapter 117

Chapter 117 The Girl They Left Behind
Theresa had grown up without a father-so she became her own protector. More than that, she vowed to protect her home. To protect her mother.
Howard knew her well. He knew Theresa’s heart, knew the fire that lived inside her. Once she marked someone as her own, she would never let harm touch them. Not if she had to burn the world down to stop
If she had been here… they wouldn’t have ended up like this. She would have fought for them. Killed for them. Died for them.
And now, Howard’s regret hit him like a fist to the chest.
As he lay there barely clinging to life, bleeding and broken, he spotted a figure through the crowd gathering nearby.
A group of camp guards parted respectfully around a young woman at their center. She wore a sharp tactical uniform, combat boots clicking against the pavement, a high ponytail swaying with every step. Walking beside her was Lucas, K1 Camp’s newly appointed overseer.
She moved like she belonged in power. Like she’d never once lived in the mud with rats like him.
Howard struggled to lift his head. Before he could make out her face, men lifted him roughly off the ground.
“Take him back to his quarters,” Lucas said coldly.
Howard and Elizabeth were dragged away in the opposite direction, limp and bloodied. He twisted his head, desperately trying to catch a final glimpse of the girl. But all he saw was her back-straight, purposeful, untouchable.
She was a moon far out of reach.
The difference between them felt insurmountable. It hit Howard like a hammer-was that really Theresa?
The same Theresa they had treated like a nobody? The daughter they fed on like parasites, ignored, dismissed, and used?
Now she didn’t even look at them. Not a flicker of recognition. Not a glance of pity.
Just cool indifference as she walked on, surrounded by power, cloaked in strength.
Howard snapped. He started sobbing, ugly and loud, calling out to her with what voice he had left.
Lucas paused, glanced at Theresa. “Do you know them?”
Theresa didn’t break stride. “Nope.”
Lucas shrugged. “Take them away.”
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And just like that, Howard-who once claimed to rule his family-was taken away like trash.
But he knew. Oh, he knew. That was her. That was Theresa. She had become something powerful. And she wanted nothing to do with him. God, he deserved this.
He wanted to slap himself senseless with regret. If only he had chosen differently. If only he had treated Theresa with even a shred of decency. If he had picked her, believed in her, and protected her instead of using her, he could’ve had a gold mine.
Instead, he’d been thrown away by the very son he thought would carry his legacy. The son who beat him half to death and left him in the dirt.
Theresa, meanwhile, stood beside Lucas, scanning the stalls of K1 Camp’s marketplace.
“Mr. Keaton, how does your camp usually handle this kind of thing?” she asked casually, as though she hadn’t just walked past her dying father.
“I don’t handle internal discipline,” Lucas replied. “But if someone’s killed, then the killer dies. Plain and simple.”
Theresa smiled, lips curling with wicked amusement.
In a world where medical supplies were more precious than gold, where antibiotics were rarer than rain, Howard and Elizabeth—already riddled with illness-had been beaten beyond saving. They were as good as dead.
And the irony? They were dying because of the son they’d cherished above all else.
A perfect, brutal symmetry. Karma, delivered by apocalypse.
Theresa, ever the righteous citizen, widened her eyes and let out a concerned breath. “Mr. Keaton, shouldn’t you lock that guy up now? Poor couple like that… won’t last long. If anything happens before you arrest him, you’ll have no one to answer for their deaths. Can’t have victims dying in vain, now can we?”
Lucas nodded, appreciating her logic. “Bring the attacker to the victims’ quarters. If either one of them dies, he dies immediately.”
“Yes, sir!” the guards responded.
Theresa beamed. Look at her, standing up for justice. Such a good person.
Other people would’ve walked right by, maybe even laughed at their suffering. But not her. No, Theresa cared. She helped.
Honestly, she was starting to impress even herself with how kindhearted she was.
If anyone ever dared call her a bad person again, she’d be the first to object.
After touring the marketplace and talking with key staff, Theresa had formed a clear picture of Kl Camp- and it wasn’t a good one. In a word: disaster.
The only thing keeping the place from collapsing was the military presence.
They’d been taking in refugees without limit, while the camp’s resources were stretched paper-thin. Most people sat idle all day, unemployed and growing desperate. Job opportunities were scarce, and supplies
even scarcer.
If it weren’t for those few soldiers risking their necks scavenging for goods, the entire place would’ve imploded by now.
In the end, it came down to one brutal truth. They were running out of everything.
No wonder Lucas was so obsessed with that far-off provision depot. It might be the only hope left. Thıs text ıs hosted at ͟.net