Chapter 3

Daniel stared at his phone long after the call had ended.

Charity had actually asked him for a divorce.

For a moment, he assumed she was only trying to frighten him. They had argued countless times during their marriage, and every time, she had come back after a while. She had nowhere else to go, and he knew it.

He tossed the phone aside and walked into the living room, where his mother was already waiting for him.

"Well? What did she say?"

He dropped onto the sofa with a sigh. "She's still angry. She says she wants a divorce."

His mother's frown deepened. She didn't look surprised. She looked worried. "A divorce?" she repeated. "And what happens to our household expenses if she really leaves?"

Daniel glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," she said, lowering her voice as though the walls might overhear. "Charity pays for almost everything in this house. The groceries, the electricity, the water. Even the money I spend every month comes from her salary."

She had never liked Charity. She had always believed her son could have married someone better. But she had grown very comfortable with the money Charity brought into the family, and she had no intention of losing it.

From the other side of the room, Vanessa spoke without looking up. She had been listening quietly the entire time. "She won't really leave."

Daniel turned to her. "Why are you so sure?"

A small, knowing smile touched her lips. "Because she has nowhere to go."

To everyone outside the house, Vanessa was Daniel's adopted sister. 

The truth was very different. She and Daniel had been together long before Charity ever entered the picture. 

His parents had taken Vanessa in after her own parents died, and she had grown up as part of the family, but somewhere along the way, the bond between her and Daniel had become something secret.

 It had continued even after he married Charity.

When Vanessa became pregnant, Daniel had been terrified. He knew his parents would never accept it, so he married Charity instead. 

She was kind and hardworking, she had a stable job, and above all, she trusted him. 

It had been easy to convince her that Vanessa was simply his adopted sister who needed the family's support.

 After the baby was born, Charity had willingly helped raise him, never suspecting the truth.

Vanessa had no desire to lose such a perfect arrangement. 

Charity cooked, cleaned, cared for the child and paid the bills, and Vanessa had never needed to worry about any of it.

"I don't want her to leave," she finally admitted, her voice tight.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Who's going to take care of everything?"

His mother nodded firmly. "Exactly. We can't just let her walk away."

Daniel leaned back and scoffed. "She's throwing a tantrum. She'll come back."

Neither woman looked convinced, but Daniel was. He had always been certain that Charity could not live without him. 

She had leaned on him for years, and he couldn't imagine that ever changing.

His mother hesitated. "And what if she actually goes through with it?"

His expression hardened. "Then let her."

He rose from the sofa and strode toward the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Vanessa called after him.

"To get the divorce papers."

His mother hurried behind him, alarm creeping into her voice. "Daniel, don't do anything stupid."

"I'm not," he snapped.

But he was furious now. If Charity wanted to play this game, he would play along. He found the papers she had left behind and flipped through them, and the more he read, the more his lip curled. 

She had asked for almost nothing. No house. No money. No compensation. All she wanted was a clean break.

He almost laughed out loud. She really believed she could survive on her own?

Fine. He would sign. Once she discovered how hard life was without him, she would come crawling back.

He snatched up a pen and scrawled his name across the page, then let the pen fall onto the desk. "There," he said coldly. "Now she can go."

His mother stared at him. "Are you sure about this?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Give her a few days. She'll regret it."

He had no idea how wrong he was.

⸻

The next morning, Charity walked into the law firm, where her lawyer was already waiting.

"Miss Charity."

She looked up at once. "Did he sign?"

"He did," the lawyer confirmed with a nod. "Your husband signed the divorce agreement yesterday."

For the first time since she had opened her eyes in this new life, something deep inside her finally loosened. It was done. She was free.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He handed her the documents. "Once the remaining formalities are completed, the divorce will be finalized."

She nodded. That was all she needed, and she had no reason to linger.

From the firm, she went straight to the office handling her inheritance. 

Her grandparents had left her a fortune. In her previous life, she had been grateful for it, believing it would help her family survive. 

She had never imagined that the money would become one of the reasons they lived long enough to betray her.

This time would be different.

She completed the paperwork and transferred the inheritance into her personal account. 

When the banking app finally refreshed, she stared at the balance, her breath catching. There was enough money there to begin an entirely new life.

For a long while, she simply sat there, letting it sink in. Then her mind drifted back to her past life, and to how carefully she had guarded every coin. 

She had rarely bought new clothes. She had avoided expensive restaurants. 

She had worn the same shoes until the soles wore through, and whenever she wanted something for herself, she had pushed the thought aside and thought of the family first.

Meanwhile, her mother in law had spent without a second thought, and Vanessa had filled her closet with clothes, bags, and cosmetics she never needed. 

Whenever money ran short, it was Charity who was blamed. Why didn't she earn more? Why couldn't she save more? Why was she so selfish?

And Charity had always tried harder. She had worked more, spent less, and given more, until there was nothing left of her to give.

And what had it earned her? Nothing.

She looked at the balance once more, and a small smile curved her lips. She would never live like that again.

 She had spent her previous life worrying about everyone else, but this life belonged to her.

She locked her phone and leaned back in the chair. 

For the first time in years, she allowed herself to ask what she truly wanted. A beautiful home. Good food. Comfortable clothes. 

A safe place to rest. And enough supplies to outlast the disaster racing toward them.

For years, she had denied herself even the smallest pleasures. Now, at last, she had the means to live however she chose.

But before she could enjoy any of it, there was one thing she had to do. She had to prepare for the heatwave.

And she had only seven days left.