The woman before her had lost all trace of her former, delicate appearance.
Not only were her clothes a filthy mess, but her face was also caked with grime and blood.
The Yara Sterling of the past had always been meticulous about her appearance, especially her face.
She had spent a fortune maintaining it.
Now? If it weren't for a vague sense of familiarity, Stella wouldn't have even recognized her. If she had passed this woman on the street, she would never have believed it was Yara Sterling.
The difference was staggering!
The two words that came to mind—'how pathetic'—deeply stung Yara Sterling's pride.
Of course, she knew how wretched she looked. She hadn't cared before. In this apocalypse, wasn't everyone struggling just as hard to survive?
Plenty of people were worse off than her. The fact that she was still alive was, in her opinion, a remarkable achievement.
But of all people, Stella Sterling had to be living so well.
