Chapter One

“Vanessa! Wake up, you lazy slob!”

Veronica’s shrill voice pierced the closed door. Vanessa bolted upright in bed, both hands clamped around her throat. She gasped for air, her pajamas soaked with cold sweat. But beneath her fingertips, there were no wounds—only the pulse still beating in her neck. The hands that had strangled her were gone, yet the suffocating terror of her final moments felt just as real.

“I’m… alive?” Trembling, she raised her head. Faded floral wallpaper, a dark oak dresser, and drawn black curtains slowly came into focus. She was back in her bedroom, and the woman who had watched her being dragged out of her own home was now berating her from the other side of the door.

Vanessa snatched her phone from the nightstand. The date glowed clearly on the screen: July 1. She checked it twice, her fingers barely able to hold the phone.

It wasn’t August. The disaster hadn’t begun. She had really come back. But with that realization, the locked glass door from her previous life flashed before her eyes.

She remembered barely being able to stand when she returned with supplies for the last time. Veronica had taken the food and drinking water, then complained that she stank of sweat and locked her out on the sun-scorched balcony so she wouldn’t dirty the sofa.

At first, Vanessa had genuinely thought she only needed to wait a little while. Then the glass door had been locked from the inside.

She pounded on it, pointing to the water in the bag and begging for a sip. Her mother-in-law immediately pulled the bag behind her. “That water is for Leo. You’re a grown woman. Can’t you wait?”

When Andrew approached, she thought her husband was finally coming to let her in. But Susan caught his arm and complained that the pounding was keeping Leo from resting. Andrew turned, drew his so-called sister into his arms, and kissed her.

“Leo is our son. Mine and Susan’s.” His laughter crackled through the intercom. “My family adopted her. You didn’t honestly think we’d always treated each other like brother and sister, did you?”

Eventually, the balcony door opened. But Andrew dragged her to the front door and handed her over to the men waiting in the hallway.

“Two cans. Hand them over, and she’s yours.” She clung to the doorframe, screaming her husband’s name, but he pried her fingers loose and shoved her out. Rough hands closed around her throat. Susan reached for the cans while Veronica snapped, “Shut the door! You’re letting the heat in!” Only when the door closed did Vanessa finally understand: no matter how much she begged, none of them would save her.

A heavy pounding jolted her out of the memory. Vanessa flinched and touched her throat again, slowly drawing a breath. Only when she felt the air fill her lungs did she look back at her phone.

July 1 to August 10. Forty days. The solar flare had not yet triggered the extreme heat. The power grid hadn’t collapsed. She hadn’t been locked on that balcony.

They were all still here, she realized. And she was back where it had all begun.

“Didn’t you hear me, you useless girl?”

The bedroom door flew open and slammed into the drywall. Veronica, her domineering mother-in-law, stormed inside, one hand beckoning impatiently.

“Do you think money grows on trees? Last month’s electric bill was outrageous, so I turned off the air-conditioning! We can’t keep wasting money, especially when you’ve decided to sleep instead of work—”

Vanessa no longer saw Veronica through the eyes of an abused, obedient daughter-in-law, but as someone who had watched the woman meet her end. An oppressive boredom settled over her. Veronica’s complaints about the electric bill sounded less like a confrontation than a stray dog howling at the moon. They expected her to panic, to look up to them the way she once had. The very assumption was insulting.

“Your company pays you at noon on the first of every month, and it’s already past twelve,” Veronica continued, oblivious to the reason for Vanessa’s silence. “Transfer the money now. We have utility bills to pay, and the kitchen needs restocking!”

Susan followed her into the room, dragging a heavy plastic basket overflowing with dirty laundry. With an exaggerated sigh, she set it at the foot of Vanessa’s bed and fanned herself with one slender hand.

“Vanessa,” she said softly, her voice carrying that innocent sweetness Vanessa had once fallen for. “Leo got his clothes dirty playing outside today. It’s so hot, and my skin is far too sensitive for that harsh detergent… Could you hand-wash them for me now? Oh, and Andrew’s linen shirt needs ironing right away.”

Vanessa regarded the two parasites as if they were stains on the kitchen floor.

“Are you deaf, Vanessa?” Veronica stepped closer and jabbed a finger against her cheek. “Open your banking app and make the transfer, or I’m calling Andrew!”

The sharp jabs only amused her. Vanessa’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.

I’ve been given a second chance, she thought with cold arrogance. I’m not wasting it playing nursemaid to these vermin.

“The transfer?” she asked, her voice unexpectedly light, all trace of her earlier anxiety gone.

She picked up her phone, opened her banking app, and set up a recurring transfer to send her entire paycheck to her mother-in-law’s account within ten minutes of payday.

Then her thumb tapped [Cancel Recurring Transfer].

“What are you doing?” Veronica shrieked when no deposit notification appeared on her own phone. “Where’s the transfer confirmation?”

“It’s gone,” Vanessa said, her voice almost warm, its calm glacial.

She slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, moving without the panic or trembling they expected. Without another word, she extended one foot and shoved the heavy laundry basket toward Susan’s knees.

Thud!

The basket skidded across the floor and tipped over, spilling dirty clothes, soapy water, and wet mud onto Susan’s white designer dress.

“My dress!” Susan screamed, stumbling backward against the stained laundry counter.

“Have you lost your mind?” Veronica gasped. She whipped out her phone, called Andrew, and switched on the speaker. “I’m calling Andrew right now! You’re going to pay for this!”

The phone rang twice before Andrew answered.

“Mom? What’s going on? Why are you calling so early?”

“Andrew!” Veronica shrieked into the microphone, gripping the phone as though it were a weapon. “Your wife has gone completely insane! She won’t hand over her paycheck, and now she’s thrown dirty laundry into Susan’s room!”

“Vanessa! What the hell is wrong with you?” Andrew’s voice turned furious. “I can hear Mom screaming, and you’re acting like a lunatic! You know you can’t survive without my family. Get on your knees and apologize. Now!”

Veronica smiled triumphantly and thrust the glowing screen into Vanessa’s face. “Did you hear him? On your knees!”

“Apologize? You really want me to apologize?” Vanessa asked, her voice calm and measured.

“Yes! Get on your knees!”

Vanessa gave the phone a sweet, obedient smile. She slowly bent her knees, lowering herself as though she were about to bow before them.

Veronica leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.

But Vanessa’s hands moved swiftly and precisely. She reached into the open nightstand drawer and grabbed her handbag and passport.

She straightened in one quick motion, stuffed the passport into her bag, and caught Veronica’s wrist with her other hand, holding the phone steady. Her grip tightened like a steel clamp until the older woman gasped in pain.

Vanessa leaned toward the microphone, her voice chillingly cold.

“Wash them yourself,” she told Veronica softly. “Or let his real mother do it—if she can keep her hands off her brother long enough.”

“What did you just say?” Andrew shouted through the speaker, his voice shaking with shock and panic. “Vanessa, you can’t—”

She bent closer to the phone, contempt clear in every word.

“Never again, Andrew. I want a divorce.”

Without waiting for an answer, Vanessa turned, walked out of the bedroom, and slammed the front door behind her.