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Sherry's crying acted like a key, unlocking the heavy floodgates of the past for the three adults. The memories of that night—the struggle for survival in Raccoon City, the blood, the death, and the absolute despair—surged out alongside the little girl's tears.
Noah took a deep breath, forcing his voice to remain steady and reliable. "Claire, take Sherry for a hot bath." He looked at the girl's small face, smeared with dust and salt, and softened his tone. "Change into clean clothes. Get some sleep. Let the water wash away all the bad things."
Claire nodded vigorously, her own eyes red as she hoisted Sherry from the floor. The girl was as light as a feather, yet she carried the weight of a world that had ended.
"Let's go, little angel," Claire whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's get you into a nice, fragrant bath."
Noah stood alone in the hallway for a moment, watching them disappear behind the bathroom door. He looked down at himself. His clothes were a mess of Raccoon City dust, dried blood, and the lingering scent of gunpowder and decay. It was the smell of Hell.
He grabbed the trash bag from the entryway and headed downstairs.
The sunlight outside was blinding, and the air smelled of fresh-cut grass. On the street, cars hummed past and pedestrians walked with purpose. The world was alive and orderly. It was such a sharp, cruel contrast to the dead city they had left just hours ago that Noah felt as if he were standing between two different dimensions.
He tossed the trash into the bin with a heavy thud, metaphorically discarding a piece of the nightmare.
When he returned, the sound of rushing water was mixed with Claire's tuneless humming and Sherry's intermittent, timid laughter. That laughter was a ray of sunshine that pierced the gloom in Noah's heart. He leaned against the door, a genuine smile finally reaching his face.
It was good.
Noah sat cross-legged on the floor, turning on the TV. The noisy commercials and the articulate drone of the news anchor—things he used to consider background noise—now sounded like a reassuring choir of civilization.
An hour later, the bathroom door opened. A cloud of steam scented with body wash billowed out. Claire and Sherry emerged in bathrobes, their faces flushed a healthy, ripe-peach pink.
Claire rummaged through her closet and pulled out a set of old childhood clothes: a white T-shirt with a faded Mickey Mouse print and light blue denim overalls.
"Here, Sherry. Try these."
The clothes were a bit large, the denim hanging loose on her slender frame, but when Sherry looked into the full-length mirror, her sapphire eyes lit up. She did a little spin, playfully sticking her tongue out at Claire. The sight nearly melted Claire's heart.
"My turn," Noah said, standing up with a grin.
Ten minutes later, he emerged refreshed, wearing a clean black T-shirt and jeans. The tattered rags of the Raccoon City incident were gone. They were survivors, and now they were starting over.
"Let's go," Noah said, checking the empty fridge. "Our new life begins with a massive grocery run."
He reached out. Claire naturally took his left hand, and with her right, she grasped Sherry's small, warm palm. "To the supermarket!"
The local supermarket was a cathedral of light and abundance. The smell of baked bread, the rumble of shopping carts, the sheer variety of colors—it was routine for Noah and Claire, but for Sherry, it was a miracle.
Her head was on a swivel. She broke free from Claire's hand, running through the aisles like a happy deer. She stopped at the candy section with a gasp, then stood on her tiptoes to peer at the cereal boxes featuring cartoon heroes.
"I've never been to a supermarket before," she said breathlessly, running back to them. "Mom and Dad... they never brought me."
She tilted her head, trying to recall her old life. "Everything was just... there. Nannies brought things. I wasn't allowed out."
The simple statement of fact felt like a needle prick to Noah and Claire's hearts. They could only imagine the cold, magnificent cage she had lived in.
"From now on, we'll bring you here whenever you want," Noah promised, crouching to look her in the eye.
They split up. Noah headed for the fresh produce, his mind already mapping out a menu: tomatoes, onions, ground beef, chicken breast, broccoli.
Claire took Sherry on a 'sweet' adventure.
When Noah pushed his cart to the checkout, he found Claire waiting with a cart that was piled into a mountain of snacks. Sherry sat in the middle of it, her legs swinging happily between bags of potato chips, chocolate, and soda.
"Quite a haul," Noah noted, smiling helplessly. He leaned in to address Sherry. "We can buy all of these, Sherry, but we have a deal: no snacking before dinner. You need the vegetables to grow tall. Too much junk makes you feel like a zombie, and we've seen enough of those."
Sherry nodded vigorously. "Mm! I understand!"
The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of a living home. Noah donned an apron, the sizzle of beef and the glug-glug of simmering sauce radiating warmth. Claire hummed as she meticulously washed the dishes—a task she used to hate back when her kitchen was just a place to store microwave pizza.
Sherry sat on the sofa in her new bear-print pajamas, watching cartoons. The aroma of real food was the best thing she'd ever smelled.
At six sharp, the doorbell rang. It was Leon. He had reported in and changed into clean casual clothes. Though fatigue still lined his eyes, he looked better than he had that afternoon. Apparently, the looming car loan had taken a backseat to the promise of a home-cooked meal.
The dinner was a triumph. Rich tomato meat sauce pasta, creamy corn chowder, and golden roasted chicken cutlets.
"Wow," Leon said, his eyes wide. He twirled a massive forkful of pasta into his mouth like a starving hamster. "Mmm... Noah, this is incredible! I've heard about your cooking, but man... I'm officially jealous."
He looked between Noah and Claire with a teasing smirk. "Claire, admit it. You only kept him around for the pasta, didn't you?"
Claire's cheeks flushed. "Even food can't shut your mouth, Leon." But her eyes were bright with laughter.
Sherry expressed her approval through a ring of orange tomato sauce around her mouth, nodding seriously at everything Leon said.
After dinner, they tidied up together. Sherry returned to her plush toy and the TV, while Noah, Claire, and Leon sat in a circle on the floor with iced sodas.
Leon took a sip, and the humor slowly drained from his face. He became serious, his gaze sweeping over the two of them. He let out a long, heavy sigh.
"What are your plans next?" he asked, his voice low. "Because I heard some news at the station today... and it isn't good."
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