CHAPTER FIVE

"Where have you been?!" Eleanor’s voice shrieked down the quiet hallway the moment Betony stepped off the stairs.

Her mother marched toward her, her face flushed with fury, while James stood awkwardly behind her, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

"I've been calling your phone for four hours, Betony!" Eleanor snapped, coming to a halt two feet in front of her. "You blocked my number! You blocked James! What kind of sick game are you playing?"

Betony stood her ground, her face an unreadable mask of ice. "What are you doing at my door, Eleanor?"

"Don't you 'Eleanor' me!" her mother barked, raising a finger to poke Betony's chest, though Betony slapped her hand away with a swift, sharp flick of her wrist. Eleanor gasped in shock. "Saskia spent her entire birthday crying because of you. You didn't transfer the money for her cake, you didn't buy her present, and you didn't even show up!"

"Saskia is twenty-five years old and has a full-time PR job," Betony said, her tone deadpan and completely devoid of warmth. "Why should I spend a single cent of my hard-earned money on her cake?"

"Because she's family!" James cut in, taking a step forward, his brow furrowed with righteous indignation. "Betony, seriously, what is wrong with you lately? Saskia cried her eyes out today. You’ve been bitter ever since Saskia and I got together, but holding a grudge for this long is just pathetic."

Betony turned her gaze toward James. Looking at him now without the rose-tinted glasses of her past life she saw nothing more than a spineless, weak-willed boy.

"You cheated on me in my own apartment, James," Betony said smoothly. "And now you're standing in my hallway demanding I buy your mistress a leather handbag. You have an incredible amount of nerve."

"She is not a mistress, she is going to be his wife!" Eleanor yelled. "Saskia and James are planning their future together. They need to save their money for a real estate investment! The absolute least you could do as a supportive sister is assist them with small expenses!"

"Assist them?" Betony let out a cold, sharp laugh. "With my money?"

"It’s family money!" Eleanor insisted, pulling her phone from her purse and waving it in Betony's face. "I had to go into that emergency savings account you opened for me just to pay for Saskia’s cake and her birthday dinner! Two thousand dollars, gone. Because of your selfishness."

Betony’s blood spiked, a sudden, searing rage threatening to crack her icy exterior.

That emergency account was money Betony had deposited over three years of grueling freelance work—a fund meant strictly for her mother's medical emergencies. And Eleanor was burning it on Saskia’s birthday parties.

Without a word, Betony stepped forward, her movement so fast and decisive that Eleanor didn't even have time to react. Betony snatched the unlocked phone straight out of her mother's hand.

"Hey! Give that back!" Eleanor yelled.

Betony ignored her, her fingers flying across the banking application screen. Because the account was tied to her primary master profile, Betony initiated an immediate liquid transfer.

Transferring remaining balance: $10,450.00 -> 

Transaction Complete.

"What did you just do?!" Eleanor shrieked, lunging forward.

SLAP.

Eleanor’s open palm struck Betony across her right cheek. The loud crack echoed through the narrow, carpeted corridor.

Betony’s head snapped to the side. The sting was sharp, hot, and sudden.

James gasped, stepping back.

Eleanor stood panting, her eyes wide with shock at her own actions, her hand still raised in the air. "I... Betony, you forced my hand...."

Betony slowly turned her head back. She didn't cry. She didn't press a hand to her swollen cheek. She didn't plead for an apology like she would have done in the past.

Instead, Betony tilted her head back and laughed.

It was a low, chilling, melodic sound that sent a visible shudder down James' spine.

"You really think the world is going to stay sweet and comfortable for you, don't you?" Betony whispered, her dark eyes locking onto her mother's pale face with a ruthless intensity. "You just spent two thousand dollars on a cake. Remember this moment, Eleanor. Because when you're starving, freezing, and begging on your knees, I won't give you a single crumb."

She shoved the phone back into Eleanor's trembling hands and pointed toward the stairs.

"Get out of my building," Betony commanded softly. "Before I have the landlord haul you both out for trespassing."

Eleanor opened her mouth to scream again, but looking at Betony's pitch-black, lifeless eyes, the words caught in her throat. She gripped James’ arm, shivering, and pulled him down the hallway.

Betony unlocked her door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut, sliding the deadbolt home.

She spent the rest of the night at her desk, working under the pale glow of her desk lamp until three in the morning, compiling her definitive master survival inventory:

```

            MASTER HOARDING INVENTORY

==================================

[1. STAPLES & GRAINS]

- 3 Tons Premium White Rice (Moisture-sealed)

- 2 Tons Dried Black/P***o Beans

- 500 lbs Rolled Oats & Whole Wheat Flour

- 100 Gallons Bulk Cooking Oils & Ghee

- 200 lbs Iodized Salt & Granulated Sugar

[2. PROTEIN & PRESERVES]

- 150 Cases Canned Tuna, Salmon, & Chicken

- 100 Cases Spam & Vienna Sausages

- 80 Jars Bulk Peanut Butter

- Freeze-Dried Ready-to-Eat Emergency Meals (1,000 Servings)

[3. POWER, UTILITIES & FUEL]

- 4x Industrial Solar Generator Stations (5,000W)

- 10x Heavy-Duty Foldable Solar Panels

- 20x 5-Gallon Heavy Duty Fuel Cans (Stabilized Diesel)

- 500 Gallons Clean Water Storage Drums + 10,000 Purification Tablets

[4. MEDICAL & SURVIVAL GEAR]

- Broad-Spectrum Antibiotics (Amoxicillin, Ciprofloxacin)

- Trauma Kits, Sutures, Tactical Bandages, Alcohol

- 10x Industrial Grade Chemical Gas Masks + Filters

```

By six-thirty the next morning, Betony was back in her heavy matte-black 4x4 truck, driving toward the western outskirts to meet her security technician at The Apex Ridge.

As she pulled into the quiet, pristine drive of the high-rise, a sleek, matte-black SUV pulled smoothly into the restricted executive parking space right ahead of her.

The driver's door opened, and Warrant Officer Zaid Macaulay stepped out into the early morning light.

He wore dark tactical trousers, an unbranded fitted black jacket, and combat boots. His posture was imposing, his broad shoulders easily filling out the silhouette of his jacket.

Zaid paused as her heavy diesel truck rumbled to a stop beside him. He looked up, his sharp hazel eyes narrowing in surprise, before a subtle, intriguing smirk touched his lips.

"Miss Betony?" Zaid said, walking over as she stepped down from the cab. "What is an editorial journalist doing at an exclusive outskirts residential high-rise at seven in the morning?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Officer," Betony said, smoothing her blazer as she met his intense gaze.

"I live here," Zaid replied smoothly, gesturing toward the top floor. "Penthouse suite. What's your excuse?"

"Unit 28B," Betony answered directly. "I just bought the lease. I'm waiting for my security technician to reinforce the door."

Zaid raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "28B? That’s right below me. And you're reinforcing the entrance before you even move furniture in?"

"I like my privacy," Betony said.

"Smart," Zaid murmured, stepping closer, his presence commanding and magnetic. "Mind if I walk up with you? The technician hasn't arrived yet, and I'd like to see my new neighbor's taste in real estate."

Betony looked into his sharp eyes, feeling that same unscripted electric pull between them. "Lead the way, Officer."

They rode the private elevator up to the twenty-eighth floor in comfortable, charged silence.

Betony unlocked the heavy door to Unit 28B, stepping out onto the expansive concrete living area. The floor-to-ceiling panoramic glass windows showed the entire city stretching out toward the ocean coastline miles away.

"Great vantage point," Zaid remarked, walking toward the window, his hands resting on his hips as he looked out over the skyline. "Highest granite elevation in the county. If the city ever faced a major infrastructure failure or coastal rise, this floor would be one of the few places above the line."

Betony looked at his tall, disciplined back. "You talk like a man who expects something to happen."

Zaid turned around, his hazel eyes locking onto hers with terrifying sharpness. "In my line of work, you learn to read the signs before the storm breaks."

Before Betony could respond, a deep, muted tremor shuddered through the floor.

It wasn't a sharp shockwave like a normal earthquake. It was a massive, low-frequency subterranean rumble that vibrated straight through the concrete beneath their boots.

BZZZZT.

Across the entire city below, every streetlamp, commercial billboard, and skyscraper light flickered violently—and went pitch black. A massive blackout swept through the urban grid in a single second.

Betony rushed to the window, her heart dropping into her stomach.

Miles out in the bay, under the morning sun, the ocean water was rapidly, unnaturally pulling away from the coastline, receding hundreds of yards into the deep trench, exposing bare seabed and stranded ships.

A precursor surge. The 30-day timeline hadn't just begun—the earth was destabilizing far faster than it had in her previous life.

Beside her, Zaid didn't flinch. He slowly reached into his tactical jacket, pulling out a heavy military satellite communicator.

He didn't look at the blacked-out city below. He turned his head and looked directly at Betony, his hazel eyes burning with dark, calm resolve.

"The ocean just pulled back two miles, Betony," Zaid said softly, his voice dead steady in the dark, silent apartment. "That wasn't in any weather forecast."