Caleb bristled with unspoken fury. Without a word, he hoisted a heavy crate of cabbage onto his shoulder and marched away, his head down and his jaw set in a hard line.

Seraphina watched him go, stunned into a sullen silence. Fine, she thought bitterly. They let Evelyn humiliate them, and then they bring all that pent-up resentment back to me. How utterly pathetic.

Evelyn, meanwhile, was done with the formalities. She funneled the weighed white radishes into heavy-duty sacks and hauled them onto the flatbed. Four bulging bags of radishes and two large crates of pumpkins were soon lashed down with thick twine, secured for the journey.

"Sister Evelyn! Let my brother pull that for you!" Tess chirped, cutting her eyes toward Frank as if commanding him to show some initiative.

"You guys aren't even finished with your own haul," Evelyn replied, wiping her brow. "I’ve only got this one load. I can handle it." She threw the harness rope over her shoulder and leaned into the weight, the cart groaning as she began to pull it away, step by grueling step.

Tess stamped her foot in frustration. She turned on Frank, her voice a sharp whisper. "Look at you! Are you even a man? Have you no idea how to court a girl? You’re supposed to sweep her off her feet, not watch her do the heavy lifting!"

Frank hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "In front of everyone? It’ll cause a scene. It doesn't look right."

Tess didn't care for optics. she delivered a swift, sharp kick to his shin. "Go! Do I have to beg you?"

Frank sighed, rubbing his leg. His sister was as fierce as a cornered cat. He shook his head and took off after the cart.

Evelyn hadn't gone far before the exertion began to take its toll. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and every step required the full force of her strength. At times, the weight of the cart threatened to drag her backward down the slight incline.

Dominic, seeing her struggle, quickened his pace. He planned to drop his own load of cabbage at the dormitory and sprint back to help her push. He felt a desperate need to bridge the distance between them.

But Frank reached her first. A powerful arm slammed against the back of the cart, providing a sudden, massive surge of momentum. Evelyn felt the burden on her shoulders vanish instantly; the searing friction of the rope against her skin eased.

"Frank! I told you, I’ve got this," Evelyn said, glancing back and wiping sweat from her eyes. "Tess still needs you back there."

She wasn't the frail girl who had first arrived in the countryside. Between the high-quality food and the Spirit Spring water, she had actually managed to grow a fraction taller. More importantly, she had used her time within the spatial dimension—where time stood still—to train. She spent hours lifting heavy rice bags to build her strength. She knew that in this lawless backwater, relying on a magical space wasn't enough; she needed to be able to protect herself. After every grueling session, she would soak in a bath of Spirit Spring water, a ritual that left her limbs aching but her spirit iron-clad.

"My brother and sister-in-law are with her," Frank said. He was a man of few words, and he didn't feel the need to elaborate. He simply leaned his weight into the cart and kept pushing.

Evelyn gave in. She would just have to find a way to repay the Barretts later. As they walked, Frank’s gaze occasionally drifted to the girl in front of him. A stray sunlight caught the dark, lustrous coil of her hair and the elegant line of her neck. Her profile was delicate, her nose fine and straight—she looked utterly out of place against the harsh, dusty backdrop of the village. Frank had never seen anyone quite like her.

Dominic arrived at a jog, breathless and ready to help. When he saw someone already at the cart, he didn't falter; he moved to grab the other side of the frame. The moment he added his strength, Evelyn felt the shift. She turned and saw his face.

"What are you doing here? I don't need your help," she said coldly.

Dominic didn't argue. He simply lowered his head and pushed. Frank, however, narrowed his eyes. With a sudden, forceful shove, Frank accelerated his pace. Dominic, caught off guard by the abrupt change in speed, lost his grip and stumbled, nearly face-planting into the dirt.

As Dominic moved to snap at him, Frank cut him off with a steady, commanding look. "Dominic, we’ve got this. Your help isn't required."

Frank knew exactly who he was. In Tess’s colorful descriptions, Dominic was the "traitorous brother" who favored outsiders over his own blood. In the Barrett household, such behavior would have earned a man a broken leg from his father.

Dominic’s face darkened. "I’m her brother. Helping her is my responsibility."

"Frank, let’s go. Faster," Evelyn called out, ignoring the exchange.

Frank put his shoulder into it, his long strides eating up the ground. Dominic stood in the road, his face a mask of gloom. Since she had arrived in the village, Evelyn hadn't called him "Brother" once. By the time he found his voice, they were already far ahead, moving with a synchronized speed that made it look like they were fleeing a plague.

A plague? he thought. Is that what I am to her?

"Dominic!" Seraphina’s voice shrieked from the fields. "Everyone else is almost done! We still have a mountain of cabbage left!"

He watched the distant figures disappear around a bend, a hollow, drifting sensation settling in his chest.

To ensure she had truly shaken Dominic, Evelyn and Frank hauled the cart all the way back to her house in one go. As she unhitched the ropes, she let out a long, ragged breath. "Frank, come inside. I’ll get you some water."

Frank opened his mouth to decline, but the way she said "Frank" reached a part of him that his sister’s screeching never touched. It was a soft, clear sound. "Alright," he conceded. "One glass."

Inside, Evelyn added a drop of Spirit Spring water to a cup of boiled water, ensuring it was the perfect temperature. When she handed it to him, Frank took it, his eyes lingering on her. He remembered when he was digging her cellar; the water she brought him then had been lukewarm, too.

He had grown up drinking cold water straight from the well. In the army, he’d survived by shoving handfuls of snow into his mouth. The only time anyone had ever served him warm water was when he was too sick to stand. This small, quiet attention to his comfort felt strangely intimate.

"I’m coming back to help your family now," Evelyn said as he finished.

"No," Frank said firmly. "You have your own stores to organize. We have enough hands. If you show up, they'll just send you back."

Seeing he wouldn't budge, Evelyn stayed behind to tend to her cellar.

Back at the threshing floor, the village was still a hive of activity. Suddenly, the rhythmic chug of a tractor engine cut through the air, drawing every eye toward the village entrance.

The Village Head, Barrett, went pale. He broke into a jog toward the vehicle, his expression grim. "It’s the Revolutionary Committee," he muttered to those nearby.

His face was like stone. In these times, those men never brought anything but trouble.