In the midst of a war between powerful nations, countless soldiers were sent to the battlefield. These soldiers became the shield of their homelands, offering their flesh and blood as a defense mechanism for their country.

In a village far from the battlefield, an adult man embraced his wife tightly, trying to reassure her of his return once the war was over. Their peaceful life in the village seemed like a distant dream, but he held onto it.

“Your daughter will be turning 11 years old when you come back,” the woman said softly, her voice a delicate blend of gentleness and sadness.

“You’re right, Lilia. She’s growing up so fast. I only wish her the best life,” the man replied, his tone strong and resolute, though the worry of leaving them behind weighed heavily on him.

Lilia cupped his cheek, drawing his gaze to meet hers. “You will come back for sure, darling. Promise me,” she said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

He nodded and smiled warmly. “Of course I will. How could I leave the two of you behind? Watching you enjoy life without me would be unfair,” he joked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

She smiled faintly and playfully smacked his shoulder. “Silly you.”

Their conversation was like a scene from a fairy tale—the princess bidding farewell to her knight in shining armor as he set off to protect their family and their home.

But reality has no place for fairy tales.

When the war ended, her knight, her husband, never came back. Days passed, and the promised reunion she had clung to never came. Panic set in as her hope slowly gave way to fear. She waited anxiously, trying to suppress the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

Then, one day, a letter from the military arrived. Her emotions swirled in a storm of fear and hope as she stared at the envelope. Her hands trembled as she opened it, swallowing hard against the knot in her throat.

She began to read. Each word sank into her mind like stones, dragging her deeper into despair. Her expression shifted, her breath quickened, and her tears began to fall uncontrollably. She gasped, unable to contain the tidal wave of emotions coursing through her.

“...He died in battle... his body... no trace...”

The letter confirmed her worst fears: her husband had died in the war. His body had been obliterated in an explosion, leaving no remains to be buried. The finality of it crushed her, stealing the air from her lungs.

“No... no...” She whispered, her voice barely a sound. She clutched the letter to her chest as if it could somehow bring him back, her whole body trembling. “He promised... He promised he would come back.”

The weight of the words hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her, dragging her under. She let out a guttural cry, the pain too much to bear. Her body crumpled, the letter falling from her hands, forgotten as the grief overtook her. The room seemed to close in on her, suffocating her. Leaving her to lose consciousness.

When she woke, she was no longer the same. The vibrant, loving woman she had been was gone, replaced by a hollow shell. She withdrew from the world, her sense of purpose shattered, and welcomed the idea of death as a release.

But her daughter wouldn’t let her go.

The young girl, only 11 years old, did everything she could to keep her mother alive. She brought her food, cared for her needs, and shielded her from the world, hoping against hope that one day, her mother would return to her senses.

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“Since when did it all start, this unbearable suffering? Ahhh, since she knew her husband died on the battlefield. She couldn’t handle the grief inside her—it was too much for her. Leaving me alone in this world,” Lily murmured, her voice barely audible as she slowly regained consciousness.

Her eyelids fluttered open, the blurry image of a woman coming into focus. A soft warmth rested on her hand, comforting yet unfamiliar. “Mama?” she whispered weakly, her voice trembling with a faint hope.

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“Sorry to say this, but I’m not your mama.”

The voice snapped Lily to full awareness. Her eyes widened, and she forced herself upright despite the weakness in her limbs. Confusion washed over her as she scanned the unfamiliar room. Her gaze landed on the woman sitting beside her—a stranger with a calm yet concerned expression. It was Alice.

Standing near the closet was a man with a firm stance and watchful eyes. Arthur.

“I’m sorry, but... can you tell me what happened?” Lily asked, desperation laced in her voice. Worry flickered across her face as she tried to piece together the events.

Alice leaned closer, her tone gentle yet steady. “We saw you collapse on the road earlier while carrying a huge pile of laundry. We couldn’t just leave you there, so we brought you here to rest.”

The words hit Lily like a cold gust of wind. Her head lowered, and she frowned deeply. Her hands clenched the blanket tightly as she bit her lip. “Thank you for helping me, but... I don’t have any money to pay you back right now,” she muttered, her voice heavy with shame. “Please give me some time—I promise I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Alice and Arthur exchanged a quick glance, their surprise evident. The room fell silent for a moment before Arthur stepped forward, his hand resting gently on Alice’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry about paying us back,” he said firmly. His tone was calm, yet there was a hint of concern. “But let me ask—have you eaten anything in the past few days?”

Lily’s eyes darted to him, her confusion clear. “I-I have been eating,” she stammered. “Why would you ask that?”

Arthur’s gaze remained steady. “The doctor examined you,” he explained. “He said you fainted because of hunger.”

Her lips quivered as she shook her head in denial. “That’s not true,” she muttered weakly.

Alice, her voice soft yet insistent, chimed in. “Then tell us—how much do you eat each day?”

Lily’s mouth opened as if to respond, but she stopped herself. Her head lowered further, her silence revealing more than words ever could.

Arthur sighed quietly, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Lily,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Lily,” Arthur repeated, his tone softer now. “If you’re struggling with something, you should talk to someone—your parents, maybe a sibling. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Lily slowly lifted her head, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were lifeless, hollow—like the dim reflection of a once-bright soul. Arthur stiffened slightly, caught off guard by the sheer emptiness in her expression.

“Thank you for your advice, Mister,” Lily said finally. Her voice was steady, but it carried a hollow, hopeless tone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Alice and Arthur exchanged another glance, the unspoken worry between them growing. They could see it clearly now—this young girl was battling far more than hunger.

Alice stood up, moved to sit beside Lily, and gently touched her hand. A warm, reassuring smile crossed her face. “Lily, do you want to come with us?” she asked softly.

Lily shook her head twice, her response immediate. “I’m still working—” she began but suddenly froze. A flicker of panic crossed her face as her eyes widened, and she looked directly at Alice. “Wait, do you... do you know where the laundry is?” she asked, her tone rising with worry. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her growing unease.

Alice and Arthur exchanged a glance, sensing the storm of emotions within the girl. Arthur stepped forward and spoke calmly, trying to ease her concern. “While you were still sleeping, I took it to a laundry shop near the clinic.”

Lily’s face fell, her worry deepening. “W-What h-have you done? I-I don’t have money to pay f-for the laundry!” she stammered, her voice trembling. She bit her lip hard, fighting to hold back the frustration and sadness threatening to overwhelm her.

Arthur held up a hand, his tone steady and reassuring. “It’s okay. I already paid for it. You don’t need to worry about that.”

But his words didn’t calm her. Lily immediately tried to stand, determination written across her face, but as soon as she took a step, her body swayed. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she gripped the bedframe for support.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, frustration thick in her voice. “Thank you for helping me. You even spent money on someone like me…” She forced herself upright, her legs unsteady, and began walking toward the door despite her clear exhaustion.

Alice and Arthur watched in silence, their concern growing with every faltering step she took.

“She’s carrying something far too heavy for someone her age,” Alice said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. Her eyes lingered on the door Lily had just exited, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Arthur nodded, his brow furrowed. “Yeah. Whatever it is, it’s consuming her. And it’s made her close herself off completely. She doesn’t trust anyone—not even enough to let us help her.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Alice’s jaw tightened, and she bit her lip, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “But we can’t just leave her like this. It’s painful to see someone so young suffering so much.” Her voice cracked slightly, betraying how deeply it affected her.

Arthur turned to look at her, noting the way her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the fabric of her dress. He saw a depth of care in her eyes. It made him wonder if this hit closer to home for her than she was willing to admit.

“You’re right,” he said after a moment, his tone softening. “We can’t ignore her. If there’s any way we can help, we have to try.”

Alice nodded, a faint glimmer of resolve crossing her face. “Then we’ll figure out a way to reach her. No one should have to face something like this alone.”