Novel Full Chapter 1136 Boxes
Chapter 1136: Chapter 1136 Boxes
More laughter followed, mixed with embarrassed shrieks and breathless confessions.
Their imaginations spiraled, some whispering about what it must be like to have Ross’s attention solely on them.
Others fantasized about him walking into their room at night, choosing them out of the five hundred people in the shelter.
Their words grew more playful, more daring, as the group huddled closer, caught between their fears of the outside world and their admiration for the man who protected them from it.
But the woman Ross was truly interested in stayed silent.
She watched the others with a small, polite smile, but she didn’t join their wild chatter.
Instead, her gaze drifted toward where Ross had walked off.
She didn’t blush or giggle—yet something in her eyes softened, just for a moment.
A spark of curiosity.
A hint of interest.
A flicker she didn’t dare show openly.
And though she didn’t know it yet, Ross had already noticed.
"How about you, Sabrina? What do you think of Ross?" one of the women asked suddenly, her tone light but edged with curiosity—and maybe a little challenge.
At once, the entire group fell silent.
All eyes turned toward Sabrina, and a few of the women couldn’t stop their quiet flicker of envy. It wasn’t intentional, but it was undeniable.
Sabrina was simply... stunning.
She stood a little taller than most of them, her posture naturally elegant even when she tried to appear casual.
Her long blonde hair, which she often tied loosely behind her back, still managed to look flawless, catching the soft light of the makeshift shelter and giving her an almost ethereal glow.
Her face was the kind that could stop someone mid-sentence—delicate features balanced perfectly with a quiet confidence, like she had walked straight out of a magazine into the apocalypse without losing any of her beauty to the world’s chaos.
And then there was her body.
Even in the baggy, worn clothes she chose specifically to hide her figure, her curves were impossible to conceal.
Her hoodie failed spectacularly at hiding the generous fullness of her breasts, and the loose sweatpants did very little to disguise her narrow waist and shapely hips.
Most women would have killed for her proportions—before the apocalypse, at least.
Now, they simply admired... and compared themselves involuntarily.
Some of them wondered, secretly, if Ross had noticed her yet.
Others feared he had.
Sabrina tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear when she noticed everyone staring.
"I... think he’s doing a good thing here," she said softly.
Her answer was simple—almost disarmingly so—but the tone carried sincerity.
No fangirling, no breathless excitement, no bold declarations like the others had made.
Just a calm, thoughtful response.
A few women exchanged looks, surprised.
They had been expecting something else: a blush, a flustered smile, maybe even a confession.
Instead, Sabrina remained composed, almost unreadable.
She came here alone—no family, no friends, no one to watch her back.
She’d survived through caution, discipline, and by trusting no one.
This place... these women... even Ross... they were the first stability she’d had in months.
And as grateful as she was, she wasn’t someone who opened up easily.
"I mean it," she added quietly, glancing around at them with a gentle smile. "Without him, none of this would be possible. We wouldn’t even be standing here."
Her words softened the room. Some nodded. Some still stared, trying to interpret her expression.
A few wondered if maybe Sabrina was hiding something more behind her calm tone.
Meanwhile, deep inside, Sabrina felt a faint warmth as she recalled Ross’s earlier smile—unexpected, subtle, but strangely reassuring.
She didn’t show it.
But something inside her had stirred.
Something she couldn’t quite put into words yet.
***
Night came, and Sabrina still couldn’t sleep.
No matter how many times she adjusted her blanket or shifted positions on the thin mattress, her mind refused to rest.
The faces of the people she’d lost—or feared she had lost—kept returning to her again and again.
She missed her boyfriend terribly.
His voice, his warmth, the way he always held her hand when she felt anxious.
Every night since arriving here, she whispered a prayer that he was still out there somewhere, alive, safe, maybe searching for her too.
But the silence that followed was suffocating.
Sabrina reached for her cellphone, the screen cracked but still functional.
She opened her messages and typed another long text to his number, her fingers hesitating before pressing send.
Then she opened his social media accounts and sent more messages—short, desperate, hopeful.
Just like before, there was nothing.
No reply.
No checkmark.
No sign he had seen anything.
Her chest tightened.
She switched to her parents next—her only family, since she was an only child.
She typed carefully, trying to sound strong so they wouldn’t worry... even though she knew they might never see her messages.
Again, nothing.
No replies.
No updates.
Only the same heavy, suffocating silence.
Sabrina closed her eyes and took a long, steady breath, forcing back the tears burning behind her eyelids.
Crying wouldn’t help. She had learned that lesson early in the apocalypse.
She had to stay strong—because no one else would do it for her.
Very carefully, Sabrina pushed aside her blanket and stood up, moving slowly so she wouldn’t disturb the women sleeping beside her.
Supplies were limited, so most of the survivors shared tents.
Soft breathing and faint rustles filled the cramped space, the only signs of life in the otherwise quiet shelter.
She stepped outside.
The air was cool, slightly damp, and the supermarket’s sprawling interior was dimly lit by a few overhead emergency lamps.
Rows of tents stretched out in every direction, their shadows long and soft.
Some people murmured in their sleep; others curled tightly under their blankets, trying to conserve warmth.
Sabrina checked her watch.
3:03 a.m.
No wonder everything felt so still.
She walked slowly, letting the quiet soothe her.
She didn’t have a clear destination—she just wanted fresh air, space to think, space to breathe without feeling like she was going to break.
But as she rounded a corner between two stacks of supply crates, she stopped in surprise.
Someone else was awake.
Someone working... silently, efficiently... even at this hour.
A familiar silhouette.
Broad shoulders.
Steady movements.
Focused despite the hour.
Ross.