Hot! Why is it so hot? I vaguely remember that before I lost consciousness, the temperature on Earth had plummeted to minus 80 degrees Fahrenheit. There’s a saying that right before someone freezes to death, they feel a strange warmth. Was I already dead? No! I can’t die just like this! Those three despicable people are still alive, so how could I die before them? Suddenly, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was my husband, Lucas Johnson, standing beside the couch. He was wearing a thin t-shirt, his face glowing with warmth, clearly enjoying life without a care. He looked down at me and said casually, “Since you’re awake, go ahead and make dinner. My parents will be home soon.” The scene was so familiar, almost identical to the moment a month ago when I had slipped while mopping the floor, hit my head on the corner of the table, and passed out. And Lucas’s expression right now—it was the exact same as it had been back then! “Hey!” Lucas, seeing that I hadn’t moved, yanked me up forcefully, pulling me off the couch. “Faye, it’s already 5:15! Mom and Dad will be here by 5:30. What are you standing around for?” With that, he turned and walked back into his room to play his game, leaving me standing there with my heart racing. Lucas’s well-toned arm had gripped me so tightly that the pain in my arm was real. My heart pounded as I quickly grabbed my phone. The screen showed the date—it really was a month before that fateful day! Just then, a news alert popped up on my phone, reporting a conflict in some region. It was eerily similar to the chaos that had erupted just before the apocalypse in my previous life. Those painful memories came rushing back. In my past life, Lucas had been laid off. After that, he struggled to find a job, meeting failure after failure. As the only son of a rural family, his parents had moved in with us when they heard he’d lost his job. They were furious that as his wife, I wasn’t catering to his every need—especially that I wasn’t cooking for him every day. So, they decided to move in under the pretense of helping us. But instead of helping, they turned Lucas into a lazy, good-for-nothing man. Back then, I was trapped by “years of love” and couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I didn’t divorce him when I should have. But now—I’ve come back to the past! God finally heard my cry of frustration and gave me another chance! With gratitude filling my heart, I glanced around the room. The family heirloom furniture my parents left behind was still intact, and the sunlight was pouring in through the windows. I checked the weather forecast: it was 116°F (47°C)—even for a scorching summer, this was unusual heat. This extreme heat is why, when the Great Freeze hit half a month later, people didn’t see it coming. They felt too comfortable to notice. The temperature would drop rapidly—first by 9 or 18 degrees each day—until one day people would wake up to find it snowing in the middle of summer, with the temperature plunging to -30°F. That’s when the panic would finally set in. At first, you could still buy food if you had money, but before long, people would realize the danger, and everyone would have to fend for themselves. I remember suggesting to Lucas that we should stock up while we could still go to Costco Warehouse Store. But my in-laws overheard this from outside the room. They stormed in, hands around my throat, accusing me of trying to kill their son. “Don’t you know how deadly it is to go out in this cold?! You go if you want to die!” They yanked me roughly out of bed. “Let’s see how you like freezing to death, you wicked woman!” I was devastated, but Lucas remained silent. His mother’s grip on my throat tightened. I scratched at her hands in desperation, but Lucas stopped me cold. “That’s my mom! How could you lay a hand on her?” At that moment, I was shocked, but I finally understood. He had changed long ago. The moment I agreed to let his country-bumpkin parents move in with us, I had made a mistake. Maybe even marrying him had been the wrong decision from the start. In the days that followed, they dropped the masks they wore and became like demons. They hoarded all the warm clothes, forcing me to go out in -40°F weather to scavenge for food while they burned my family’s heirloom furniture for warmth. My hands were covered in frostbite, my exposed skin cracked from the cold. If I didn’t bring back enough food, I was met with scorn or beaten. If I tried to explain myself, they would strip off my down jacket and lock me outside until I begged for forgiveness. When there was no more food to find, they made a deal with the local gang to trade me for supplies. I fought back with all my strength, but I was left locked out on the freezing balcony. That’s how I froze to death. The humiliation and agony of those final moments felt as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, and tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. Just then, the sound of keys turning in the lock reached my ears—Lucas’s parents had come home.
As soon as they stepped inside, their eyes immediately went to the dining table. Seeing nothing, their faces darkened. I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears, and put on a cheerful smile to greet them. It wasn’t time to reveal my hand yet. I had to bide my time. I flashed my phone at them as I spoke. “Dad, Mom, something urgent came up at the factory, and I completely lost track of time. Why don’t I give you some money, and you can take Lucas out to eat something nice? I still need to go back to the factory to handle some things.” Right then, Mr. Johnson’s phone chimed with a notification. He unlocked it, and the amount he saw made him smile. “I’ll be back late tonight. Enjoy your dinner.” Ever since my parents passed away in that tragic accident, I had been running the furniture factory they left me, fresh out of college. It took countless sleepless nights, but eventually, I managed to bring that dormant production line back to life. Good thing I had been smart enough to never transfer ownership of the factory to Lucas. Now, the factory’s profits were my strongest leverage. Sure, it hurt a little to hand over $10,000 just like that, but to catch a big fish, you have to be willing to sacrifice some bait. I calculated the liquid cash I had left—just over a million dollars. Before Lucas lost his job, we had been pretty comfortable. But this past year, we had nearly eaten through all our savings. Still, between the property, the car, the stocks, and the debts the factory was owed, I could piece together enough to stay afloat for now. With that sorted, I rushed out the door, ready to get down to business. The elevator doors slid open, and standing inside was a young man. He had short hair, wore a black t-shirt, and his skin was a deep bronze. He stood quietly in the corner. If you didn’t know him, his presence might feel intimidating, unsettling even. But I knew he was a kind man. In my past life, when I was locked out on the balcony, it was him who dropped a heat pack down to me from above. But my mother-in-law had seen it, snatched it up, and gave it to Lucas instead. The three of them then conspired to frame me, accusing me of having an affair with him. That one small act of kindness had meant more to me than all the years of what I thought was an unbreakable marriage. I gave him a small smile and pressed the button for the basement. As the elevator descended, I casually remarked, “Seems like the weather’s been pretty weird this year, huh?” He glanced at me in surprise before nodding. “It sure has.” I feigned nonchalance. “I read an article recently about how this heat is just a backlash from rising global temperatures. Environmental damage is causing strange fluctuations in the weather, and they think it might lead to a sudden and drastic drop in temperatures.” He shot me a puzzled look and responded with a simple, “Oh.” I gave him one last glance before stepping out of the elevator. Ignoring the curious stares from others, I headed straight for a rental service and picked up a spacious old van. After that, I drove to Hillcrest Realty to rent a secluded private estate that I could move into right away. I wanted somewhere remote, with strong security. The agent looked out the window at the beat-up van I had rented, clear skepticism in his eyes. How could someone who was about to rent a luxury estate be driving such a rundown vehicle? I handed him an envelope stuffed with cash. “Relax, it’s all above board. You get your cut , I handle my business.” The agent’s expression shifted to one of sharp understanding. “Actually, I do have a place. It’s nearby.” I nodded, signaling him to lead the way. Sure enough, the agent brought me to an upscale neighborhood. I knew this area well—it wasn’t far from my home, but due to some silly superstitions about bad feng shui, hardly anyone had moved in. Rich people were obsessed with such nonsense, and it had turned this into a notorious money-losing project. And because of that, during the apocalypse, it had become an untouched safe haven. Though I was on a budget, I was still determined to haggle. “This place has quite the reputation as a ‘ghost town,’ so the price better reflect that.” The agent gave me a sideways look before forcing a smile. “You know your stuff. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of overcharging you.” When we arrived, he pulled out the keys and opened the door, stepping aside to let me in. “The owner moved overseas, barely lived here. Fully furnished, with a private yard. The neighbors are far apart—very quiet.” Before stepping inside, I took a moment to survey the yard. The soil was rich and fertile—ideal for building a greenhouse to grow my own food. Inside, I inspected every corner, knocking and testing for durability. The solid wood furniture was well-built, and the windows were top-quality. But what delighted me the most was the enormous fireplace. The previous owner clearly had excellent taste. As the sun began to set, I stood on the terrace, looking out at the darkened windows of my current house in the distance, squinting my eyes thoughtfully. Turning to the agent, I said, “Let’s sign the lease for five years.” His eyes lit up with excitement. After paying the deposit and seeing him off, I took my time examining every inch of this soon-to-be apocalypse refuge. I mapped out where I would install security grilles and where to fortify weak points, planning everything meticulously. Just as I was about to explore the space under the stairs, an inconspicuous door caught my attention. My mind began to race with ideas… I pushed the door open. As the hinges turned, lights along the walls flickered to life, illuminating a path downward. To my amazement, this mansion had a hidden basement! It was clear that the previous owner had some foresight, creating this secret space during construction as a bunker of sorts. The agent hadn’t even known about it, which meant I now had a secret base—a valuable asset, especially with the apocalypse looming. The basement was roughly 1,300 square feet, fully furnished, and equipped with a state-of-the-art ventilation system. The air circulated freely, without any oppressive feeling. All it needed was enhanced insulation, and it would be the perfect shelter. Now, it was time to start stockpiling supplies. Carefully locking the basement door, I moved an old metal cabinet in front of it to keep it hidden. Then I pulled the curtains tightly shut and drove off to the nearest Costco Warehouse Store.
As soon as I entered the store, memories of hunger and freezing from my previous life flooded back, making my eyes gleam with a ravenous desire as I stared at the shelves of food. The key to preparing for the apocalypse was choosing items with a long shelf life that were easy to eat. So, instant meals like mac and cheese, turkey-flavored ramen, and various heat-and-eat meals were my top picks. I headed straight for the bulk section and, posing as a small-scale retailer, I ordered large quantities—ten cases of mac and cheese, ten cases of turkey-flavored ramen, and ten cases of heat-and-eat meals. Of course, a balanced diet was important, too. Fresh fruits and vegetables were a luxury I couldn’t afford or easily store. Growing them myself would be tricky. So, I focused on vacuum-packed, high-protein options and added twenty cases of preserved goods—chicken wings, chicken legs, jerky, duck products, and hard-boiled eggs. Next, I had to stock up on water. In my previous life, after Lucas and his family had betrayed me and left me trapped in the snow, the thirst I felt was indescribable. This time, I was ready. I reached out to Samantha Foster, my factory’s secretary, and had her connect me with a German company that made custom water barrels, designed to store as much water as possible in a compact space. The barrels would line the walls of the basement, and with the addition of a greenhouse and a water collection system I planned to install in the yard, I could survive for at least a year on my own. If worst came to worst, I could always melt and purify snow. Beyond food and water, medical supplies were critical. I drove around the city, visiting every 24-hour pharmacy. Every time I tried to buy ten boxes of medicine, I had to endure the suspicious or even alarmed looks from the clerks. One time, someone almost called the cops, thinking I was a drug dealer. I had to come up with an excuse, telling them I was part of a nonprofit organization collecting emergency supplies for a small town hit by a car accident. After much explaining, they reluctantly sold me what I needed. I left each store with a mountain of antibiotics, wound powder, vitamins, disinfectants, bandages, and antidotes. As I stared at the pile of medical supplies, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. In my previous life, Lucas and I had met during a volunteer relief mission. Back then, he wasn’t the selfish and cold person he later became. But people change. Fear of the apocalypse and his parents’ toxic influence had twisted him, turning his once kind heart into something ugly and greedy. This time around, I could have faced the apocalypse with him by my side, but… The me that had once cared for him was long gone. He had killed that part of me with his own hands. After gathering all the medical supplies, I picked up a few fire extinguishers and some emergency escape gear, preparing for any situation that might arise. Before long, my old van was packed to the brim. Since the estate’s storage space was limited, I decided to stop my first round of shopping here. Feeling worn out, I grabbed a few bags of long-lasting pastries and bread to fill the remaining space in the van. Then, I stopped at a late-night diner for a hearty meal before heading back home. The van was full, not just of supplies but also of a cautious optimism for the future. Even though tonight seemed normal, and the apocalypse was on its way, as long as I lived for today, I could find hope. Humming a little tune, I drove through the quiet streets, cherishing this seemingly ordinary, yet precious, night. Driving back to the Private Estate in Rural Georgia, I hauled load after load of supplies down to the basement. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the floor, gazing at my “spoils of victory” with a long sigh of relief. The apocalypse would last a long time, and I urgently needed to gather more resources. But with only myself, my energy was limited, and time was slipping away. This house still needed further modifications. After paying the rent and buying food and medicine, my bank account had dwindled to just over $800,000. To avoid running out of funds for the renovations later, I decided to rely on my family’s factory for production. The first priority was to get some high-quality bows and arrows as weapons. Decent ones only cost a few thousand dollars. As for the arrows, that was simple—my factory specialized in woodworking, and it wouldn’t be hard to whip up a batch of shafts in a pinch. Last month, the factory had bought some bamboo for making chopsticks. I could easily repurpose some of it and combine it with ball bearings to create a makeshift slingshot launcher. For firepower, the garage, which was sealed and secure, could store some fireworks to be used as emergency explosives. In an apocalypse, after all, human nature was often more dangerous than the environment. As for the house modifications: installing steel plates, adding solar panels, and creating indoor insulation—$800,000 would barely cover it all. While pondering this, I drifted off to sleep without realizing it. When I woke, I was drenched in sweat, having forgotten to turn on the basement’s ventilation system. My clothes were soaked through. I glanced at the time—it was already past 2 a.m. Quietly, I slipped out of the basement and peeked out through a small gap in the curtain, seeing that the lights in the house were still on. After freshening up a bit, I drove back home. I could already predict how Lucas and his parents would react. A “submissive housewife” disappearing for half a day with her phone turned off was bound to trigger a round of questioning. But what they didn’t know was that I was no longer the same Faye Johnson they were used to. When I got home, Lucas was glued to his video game, the room filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. I ignored him, took off my coat, and changed my shoes. Interrupted by the noise, Lucas paused the game and angrily threw down the controller. “Where the hell have you been? Coming home this late and not answering your phone?” “Do you even care that Mom and Dad didn’t get dinner tonight?” Without looking at him, I walked straight to the bedroom and tossed out, “I was working late at the factory. There was an emergency.” My father-in-law shuffled out of the adjacent room, letting out a cold snort. “What kind of ‘emergency’ makes you work so late? What, that little wood factory of yours has some earth-shattering business that can’t wait until Monday?” Funny, he didn’t have this attitude when I handed him that money earlier. I rolled my eyes inwardly but didn’t say anything. Lucas suddenly threw his phone onto the table. “You say you were working late, but I called the office so many times—nobody picked up! What kind of work are you doing?” His mother chimed in, raising her voice. “I told you, son, this kind of woman who’s always out and about is no good. Always talking about ‘working late.’ Who knows what kind of people she’s really meeting—men or women.” With her words, Lucas’s expression darkened further. No wonder, in the past, whenever I worked late, he’d ask about it over the phone but never came to pick me up. It was all just surveillance. Looking at the three of them sitting in a row on the couch, their faces made me sick. I chuckled, “It’s business, right? I deal with both men and women. What, Lucas, would you like to go in my place next time?” “And Mom, didn’t you say you were here to take care of the both of us?” “Well, I’ll leave that to you. From now on, when I’m not home, you can cook for your son.” “After all, those hands of his are only good for video games, right?” Since we got married, I had always believed in keeping the peace in the family, treating my in-laws with respect. But now, I was done. If it weren’t for the fact that I needed time to stockpile supplies, I wouldn’t bother dealing with them at all. My mother-in-law, caught off guard by my defiance, shot up from the couch, her finger nearly poking my nose. “So, you think you’ve found some rich sugar daddy, huh? Daring to talk to me like this! You’re finally admitting you’re no good, right? If it wasn’t for my son, who would even care about an orphan like you—Ah!” Her nasty rant was cut short when I threw my bag at her face. My expression was cold and my voice even colder: “Look at yourself before you point fingers at me. Without my parents, your son wouldn’t be living so comfortably.” “Mom!” Lucas rushed over, catching his mother as she collapsed into his arms, trembling. My father-in-law, also shaking, got up and started shouting at me. I ignored their outburst and calmly went to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. There were only 29 days left until the apocalypse. Don’t expect me to tolerate any of you ever again! Lucas’s family raged and cried well into the night, but I put on earplugs and slept soundly.
Monday morning dawned, and with it, a new day. I got myself ready and prepared to head out. Lucas was still snoring on the couch, and his parents, having stayed up late after last night’s argument, were also still asleep. Quietly, I slipped out the front door. Another day closer to the end, the tension inside me tightening with each passing hour. First on the agenda was heading to the factory to handle some things—collecting outstanding payments and contacting construction teams. As soon as I walked into the office, I headed straight to my computer. I reviewed yesterday’s shopping list, then carefully categorized everything, making sure to cover every aspect of daily life and ensure I didn’t miss anything. The house renovations would take time, and I needed to lock down the construction teams today. Fortunately, during the factory’s recent renovations, I had kept contact information for a few reliable crews. For security reasons, I decided to hire several different teams to work on separate parts of the project. That way, no one would be able to connect the dots about my “apocalypse shelter.” As long as no one linked the information, my secret would be safe. With that in mind, I made a few calls, explaining that I was helping a friend remodel a workshop, and quickly wired $50,000 in deposits, making sure they started work that very afternoon. For the heavy machinery and specialized materials, I needed a lot of cash, so I sold all my stocks in one go, disregarding the fluctuations in the market. Next, I contacted an agent to sell the factory’s company vehicles and an out-of-town property I had in my name, keeping only an SUV, which I planned to send to the shop for upgrades and modifications. After that, I sent out instructions to the department heads, ordering them to recover all outstanding debts within a week, with a promise to reward 40% of any amounts collected as a bonus. The sales team exploded with excitement. Within minutes, action-oriented staff were already heading out the door. With this careful planning, I expected to recover close to a million dollars—enough to cover the renovation costs. That afternoon, I brought the first construction crew to the estate and discussed the details of the modifications. The top priority was reinforcing the perimeter fence, which would take two days. I explained that the “owner” was planning to raise large dogs, so the wire mesh needed to be extra dense. For the second team, I instructed them to install bulletproof glass, giving them a five-day deadline. The supervisor broke into a sweat. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Bulletproof glass installed in five days? That’s impossible!” “And what’s this friend of yours up to, installing bulletproof glass in their house?” I pulled him aside and spun a story about how my “friend” was a war correspondent with some PTSD from working in conflict zones. He bought it, though it meant double the cost. But if money could solve the problem, then it wasn’t really a problem. I transferred the funds without a second thought. The third and fourth teams were in charge of adding insulation, fireproofing, reinforcing the walls, and upgrading the garage. Even with the minimalist design I wanted, by the time the renovations were finished, my budget would be almost depleted. I rented a warehouse near the estate to serve as a storage hub for supplies and headed straight for the mall with a massive shopping list. Within three days, I needed to have all the goods delivered to the warehouse: high-end winter clothing, heat packs, portable heaters, and more. I had six solar panels installed on the roof in one go. Even if it got unbearably hot, freezing was not an option. By the time I finished, it was 5 p.m., right in the middle of rush hour. I collapsed into the driver’s seat, breathing heavily. Reviewing the checklist, I still felt like something was missing. I had to make sure there were no gaps in my plans. In the rearview mirror, I saw my flushed face, realizing that my health had deteriorated over the years from overworking. That’s it! Fitness equipment! Staying physically strong would be essential to survive the unknown challenges ahead. I headed to a sporting goods store and ordered dumbbells, an elliptical machine, and a multi-functional training rack, requesting delivery to my home. The store even threw in a complimentary guidebook called “Complete Fitness Guide for Women”, which covered exercises for all muscle groups—a very practical gift. This also reminded me that in a future of freezing temperatures and no internet, reading might be my best form of entertainment. So, I went to a bookstore and bought hundreds of books across various genres, having the staff load them all into my trunk. As night fell, I stopped for dinner before finally heading back home. Opening the door, I found Lucas and his parents happily seated at the dining table, enjoying a meal of lobster. His mother peeled a lobster and placed it in Lucas’s bowl. But when they saw me, all three of their smiles froze. “Faye, listen to me…” “Wait. Let me finish first.” I pulled out the divorce papers from my bag and placed them lightly on the dining table. “I’ve done everything I could for you over the years. Let’s get a divorce. You can keep the house, and I’ll just take my parents’ old furniture.” “No way!” Lucas suddenly exploded in anger, snatching up the papers and tearing them into pieces. “Son!” Mrs. Johnson hurriedly stopped Lucas, who was almost out of control. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear. “Mom!” Lucas started to speak but stopped when Mrs. Johnson shot him a commanding look, like a general in charge of a battlefield. “Fine, you can get a divorce,” she said with a calm, calculating smile. “But besides the house, we’ll need an extra million dollars in compensation.” Compensation? I let out a cold laugh. I hadn’t even begun to charge them for the emotional damage they had caused me over the years. “You can have the car too, along with the house. That’s it. I’m going away on business, Lucas. You have three days to think it over. Let me know your decision.” Before they could react, I went to the bedroom, packed some clothes and personal items, and left with my suitcase. As I drove out of Greenwood Apartments, I noticed a shadowy figure lurking nearby. Thank goodness I had planned to stop by the grocery store first instead of driving straight to the Private Estate. Otherwise, I might’ve been caught. If they want to play games, I’ll play along. I pulled over and quickly sent out a few texts. The replies came swiftly, with a confirmation emoji. Good thing I’d kept contact information handy for just such an occasion. Watching the figure getting closer through the rearview mirror, I pretended to take a phone call and raised my voice. “Yes… Room 1705 at the Hilton Nashville Downtown? Sure, I’ll be there in half an hour. You go ahead and wait for me.” I hung up the phone, cranked up the music, and sped off, feeling lighthearted. I drove straight to the hotel. After parking, I hurried inside, slipping into a quiet corner of the lobby where I could watch the elevators. Sure enough, Lucas stormed in a few minutes later, his face dark with anger. Hooked! I immediately dialed 911. “Hi, I’d like to report suspicious activity in Room 1705 of the Hilton Nashville Downtown. There might be something illegal going on. Please send someone to check it out. Thank you.” Since the hotel was located in a busy part of the city, and with the local authorities eager to maintain public safety, the police responded quickly. Within the time it took to drink a coffee, Lucas and a woman dressed provocatively were escorted out of the hotel by the police. “Let go of me! I’m here to see my wife!” Lucas protested, struggling against the officers. A young officer sternly questioned him, “Where’s your wife? Is she really your wife? Can you even tell me her name?” Lucas was at a loss for words. An older officer sighed, “Son, just admit your mistake and move on. It’s not that big of a deal.” Then, they were all loaded into the police car and taken away. Problem temporarily solved, I headed to the grocery store, buying whatever I felt like. By the time I checked out, I had two carts full. As I was loading the items into my car, my phone rang. “Hello, is this Lucas Johnson’s family? This is the police department. Your husband has been detained for illegal behavior. Please come down to the station to arrange bail.” “What? Lucas would never do something like that!” I feigned shock. “I’ll be there right away.” Who was I kidding? I quickly hung up and called Mrs. Johnson. “Hi, Mrs. Johnson. The police just called. Your son has been arrested for some misconduct. If you don’t want him to suffer, you’d better bring money to the station!” I hung up before she could respond. As the night settled in, I parked the car in the private garage of the estate and quietly returned to the apartment building. I watched from the shadows as Lucas’s parents hurried out of the building, shouting and cursing the whole way. Once I was sure they were far enough away, I took the elevator back up to the apartment and quickly set up a few hidden cameras in some discreet spots. I wanted to make sure I could catch every humiliating moment of their downfall. My heart pounded. It was my first time doing something like this, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous. Time was ticking. I had to hurry. I took a deep breath to calm myself and connected the cameras to my phone. Even if the internet cut out, I could still monitor them in real-time through the device. Before leaving, I double-checked that the cameras were well hidden. Satisfied, I quietly left the apartment. By the time I returned to the Private Estate, it was late. To avoid disturbing the neighbors, the construction crews had stopped work promptly at 8 p.m., as per regulations. I inspected the progress and was pleased with the results. At this pace, the place would be ready in just ten days. Money, after all, was the ultimate motivator. I had converted most of my remaining cash into gold. As any basic economics course would teach, gold and silver were always the safest currencies. I hid the shiny treasures in the most secret corner of the basement. Unless someone drained the entire three-month water supply, no one would ever find them. After a long bath, I curled up on the couch, snacking and watching TV, savoring the peaceful moment. Looking at myself in the mirror post-shower, I couldn’t help but notice how different I looked. I had money, I had looks—why had I ever settled for a man like Lucas for three whole years? Love really did blind women. We could turn trash into something shiny and clean, fooling ourselves completely. Checking the time, I pulled out my phone and opened my messaging app. The three-person “loving family” had returned home and were sitting in the living room, recounting the events of the evening. Mrs. Johnson flicked Lucas on the forehead. “I told you to keep an eye on her, and instead, you got yourself arrested?” Lucas scratched his head, frustrated. “I really did hear her say she was going to the hotel! Otherwise, why would I have gone there… Mom, I told you this kind of thing isn’t for me. You made me do it!” Mrs. Johnson sighed heavily, clearly disappointed. “I wanted you to catch her cheating so we could get more in the divorce. Do you even know how much money she has? If you let her walk away without giving you anything, all you’ll have left is this old house and that beat-up car. Don’t be stupid, son!” “I’m not getting a divorce!” Lucas shouted. “Yeah, I admit I went after her because of the money at first, but after all this time, I do have feelings for her!” So, it had all been a scheme from the start. I almost felt sorry for my past self. Almost. Mr. Johnson put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “Feelings? What good are feelings? You think she loves you? The house, the car, the money—it’s all in her name. You care about her, but does she care about you? Divorce would be better. At least you’d walk away with something.” “Exactly!” Mrs. Johnson clapped her hands, already imagining their future. “That house is in a prime location. It’s only going to go up in value. And that car is worth tens of thousands. Talk to her, ask for more compensation, and find yourself a better girl.” Mrs. Johnson was practically giddy with excitement. “Besides, do you even know what she’s doing when she’s out? She could’ve been with someone else this whole time. You trust her too much! A woman running her own business? You think that’s easy? Without paying some kind of price, where’d all that money come from?” “Son, the only people who truly care about you are your parents!” “Would we ever steer you wrong?” Watching Lucas waver under their barrage of manipulation, I quietly turned off my phone. A man with no backbone would always be controlled by others. The next day, I went to work with dark circles under my eyes. As I tried to sleep that night, memories of Lucas’s tenderness and the cold reality of his family’s true nature swirled in my mind. Perhaps I hadn’t grown enough, because their words still stung. By the middle of the night, I gave up on sleeping and got out of bed to bury myself in work. The factory workers were my partners, people who had stood by me through thick and thin. With the apocalypse looming, I couldn’t let them down. Carrying a rough draft of my plans, I walked into the office. My assistant, Samantha Foster, immediately brought me a cup of water. “Faye, did you not sleep again? Your dark circles are so bad,” she said with concern. I smiled and asked her to tally up yesterday’s collections and calculate the performance bonuses for each employee as we discussed. By the afternoon, my phone was ringing off the hook—calls from various wholesalers I’d ordered supplies from. I wolfed down my lunch and texted Samantha, letting her know I’d be heading out of town on a business trip to Miami, Florida, and would return in three days. That would be enough time to handle everything. At the warehouse, the delivery trucks were already lined up. I quickly unlocked the doors and directed the workers to unload the goods. One of the truck drivers, eyeing the piles of clothes, food, and electronics, asked curiously, “What’s all this for? Planning something big?” I smiled. “We’re doing a company retreat and taking some supplies to a community in need.” The driver’s expression turned serious, and I felt a bit guilty for lying. Lately, I’d been spinning a lot of these half-truths. Maybe it was time I did something good for a change, to balance things out. Once everything was unloaded, I noticed a few missed calls from Lucas and Samantha. I quickly called Samantha back. “What’s up?” I asked. “Faye, Lucas showed up at the office looking for you. I told him you were on a trip to Miami, but he didn’t believe me. He made quite a scene before finally leaving.” Ugh, what a headache. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I assured her. “Are you two okay?” Samantha asked. “Oh, just the usual marital spat. Nothing serious,” I lied casually. After hanging up, I noticed the trucks were long gone, leaving me alone in the now-empty warehouse. Staring at all the supplies, I realized I couldn’t just leave them scattered everywhere. So, I started organizing, loading up my car with boxes and driving straight to the Private Estate. On the way, I stopped at the hardware store and ordered sturdy shelving units that would fit perfectly in the basement. I paid an extra $10,000 to have them delivered and installed the next afternoon. On the way back, I also stopped at a rental company and secured a small truck, agreeing to park it near the estate at 8 p.m. Once everything was arranged, I drove home, feeling the summer evening’s breeze brush against my face, the future now seeming just a bit brighter.
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