Chapter 5

Evelyn's POV

The next day, my phone ringing woke me up.

The screen flashed with a name: Hans.

I stared at it for three seconds, then answered.

“Evelyn, it’s my birthday party today. Why aren’t you here yet?”

Hans’s voice sounded as gentle and sunny as ever, with the faint sound of lively laughter in the background.

I sneered inwardly: ‘Of course.’

"Why would I care about your birthday?"

He laughed. "Come on, Evelyn. I know you're mad about the house. Tamara just came back, and she couldn't stand the noisy pack dorms. We're staying on the eighth floor at Skyline Vista for now. Funny, right? You moved here too."

He paused, sounding far too sure of himself. "Everyone's already here. Come join us, and don't forget my present. We can talk this out and move on."

Hearing this, I felt a chill run down my spine.

How did they end up in this building?

In my previous life, I had been a fool to go to Hans, who ignored me the whole time;

But in this life, they followed me to the same building after I sold my old house and moved. There was no way this was a coincidence.

Had Tamara known about the space inside the moonstone pendant all along?

From Hans's attitude, he probably didn't know about this secret. This call was likely orchestrated by Tamara, trying to use it as an opportunity to probe or plot something.

I took a slow breath. "Sure. Wait for me."

But with the key in hand, I left the apartment.

The Category 5 hurricane was approaching, and the howling winds could be heard on the street.

My heart leapt as my phone buzzed with the latest alert: a Category 5 hurricane was expected to make landfall at nine tonight.

How could it be this early?

I rushed to the school library, quickly gathering a stack of medical and psychological books.

When the floodwaters came, the library would be submerged, and countless valuable texts would be lost forever.

Hans called again at this moment, and I immediately blocked his number.

I left campus and went to Harbor Fresh Market, a large grocery store nearby. I took the elevator to the rooftop parking lot, looked around carefully, then headed back down.

I walked past aisle after aisle without buying a thing. I made several trips to the second floor, then drove away.

Mendoza Auto Rentals called, saying they needed the van by three that afternoon because of the incoming hurricane.

I agreed on the phone, but when I finally returned the car, it was nearly four o'clock.

Now, howling winds battered the street, making the tin roofs of nearby buildings rattle loudly.

The owner, Carlos Mendoza, was decent. After a quick inspection, he cheerfully refunded my deposit.

Disasters rarely strike without warning; they usually give people a brief respite. Unfortunately, most people don't pay attention.

Back at the apartment, I grabbed my laptop, tablet, and phone. I downloaded movies, music, survival guides, recipes, offline maps, and first-aid manuals.

Then, suddenly, a logistics message popped up, jolting me back to reality—my polar cold-weather gear had arrived!

It should have arrived yesterday, but the seller shipped it late. Now it was finally at Southline Logistics Hub.

I had to make it to the pickup point by six o'clock.

Outside, the howling winds were terrifying, with palm trees in the community swaying wildly under the force.

I gritted my teeth, pedaling furiously through the rain and wind toward the pickup point.

The 1.2-mile journey felt like an eternity. The wind was so fierce that I couldn't even open my eyes, and trash and billboards were flying everywhere on the street.

Ignoring the sweat dripping down my face, I rolled up my sleeves and dove into the mountain of cardboard boxes, frantically searching.

Finally digging out my package, the leaden gray sky was as dark as night. The storm had intensified.

I fought my way to the corner. A brutal gust hit me without warning and lifted me off the ground.

My wolf roared in my mind, and I quickly shifted my hands.

But even with my claws extended, I still couldn't grab anything.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was tying cargo to a Hummer. He reached out and yanked me back to the vehicle.

He yanked me from the wind and into the safety of the car.

I immediately shifted my arm back to its human form, my voice torn apart by the howling wind as I thanked him.

The man glanced at me. "A hurricane's coming. You shouldn't be out here with that box."

Under the lights, I could see his face: a black T-shirt and jeans, early twenties, clean-cut buzz cut, sharp jawline, and a hard, cold expression.

"I live at Skyline Vista. Could you give me a ride? I'll pay you."

He gave me a quick nod and opened the door.

The rear seat was packed with supplies, so I had to open the front passenger door. To my surprise, there was already a little girl sitting in the passenger seat.

She looked four or five. She wore a pink dress, and her wide eyes watched me with shy curiosity.

The man opened the door. "Giselle, scoot over. She'll hold you."

I quickly scooped Giselle onto my lap and pushed the heavy package box to my feet.

The wind and rain battered the car windows as the Hummer drove into the storm.

In the distance, a girl in a dress clung desperately to a streetlight pole, her mouth forming words of despair...

The apocalypse had begun.