October 26.
A little over a week has passed since Luara decided to take care of C-001, who had broken into her apartment.
During those days, she had gone through hell trying to take care of that child; he was very troublesome, as if he were a wild animal.
Bathing him was a battle.
Feeding him was a nightmare.
And dressing him... well, don't even mention it.
If clothing were a mortal enemy, C-001 would have already earned the title of "T-shirt Killer +10."
Laura swears she has aged about three years in just a few days.
"Now I understand mothers..." she sighs, staring into space like a war veteran. "They should give medals for surviving this."
Raising a child was difficult.
Now, one as special as the one she had decided to care for out of excessive empathy made it extremely difficult; it was as if he had been injected with hyperactivity; it was another level.
