CHAPTER 2

Violet's entire body trembled with rage and pure, white-hot fury that made her hands shake and her vision blur at the edges.

Of course Harrison didn't believe her, but that wasn't what made anger course through her veins.

No, what made her blood boil was the memory of his face disappearing behind that glass door and the feeling of Alicia's hands shoving her toward the balcony edge.

The sickening drop and the concrete rushing up to meet her before the zombies tore into what was left of her.

Now, she had to look at the man who had murdered her and pretend the memories weren't burning holes through her skull.

"Harrison," Violet said, her voice eerily calm. "I want a divorce."

Harrison froze halfway to the door, his hand on the handle. For a long moment, he didn't move or speak. Then, slowly, he turned around, and the look on his face was almost comical.

His face was filled with complete shock before he began laughing.

"You want a divorce?" He repeated, shaking his head like she had just told him the funniest joke he had ever heard. "Right. You think threatening me with divorce is going to make me take your little breakdown seriously?"

"It's not a threat," Violet said flatly. "It's a statement. I want a divorce, Harrison. I'm done."

"Violet, you need sleep," He waved a hand dismissively, turning back toward the door. "You're clearly exhausted and saying things you don't mean. We'll talk about this when you're thinking clearly."

"I am thinking clearly. Clearer than I have in three years, and I know about Alicia."

Harrison's hand slipped off the door handle. The silence that followed was deafening.

Violet watched his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched. She watched every micro-expression that flickered across his face before he managed to school his features into something neutral.

But it was too late. She had seen the panic.

"What?" He turned slowly, his voice barely controlled. "What are you talking about?"

Violet's voice dropped dangerously low. "Don't insult my intelligence by pretending you don't know exactly what I'm talking about. You and Alicia. How long has it been, Harrison? A year? Two?"

"Violet…"

"Three years?" She took a step toward him, and something in her expression made him take an involuntary step back. "Has it been going on since before we got married? Or did you at least have the decency to wait a few months?"

Harrison's face had gone pale, then flushed with anger. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're paranoid and sleep-deprived and clearly having some kind of mental breakdown."

"I saw you," Violet lied smoothly. Well, not entirely a lie. She had seen them, but just in a different timeline.

"I've known for a while now. I just didn't say anything because I was pathetic enough to hope you would stop and remember you had a wife."

"Nothing is going on with Alicia," Harrison said, but his voice lacked conviction. His eyes darted away from hers. "She's a colleague. That's all."

"You're a terrible liar," Violet crossed her arms, nails digging into her skin hard enough to hurt.

"But it doesn't matter anymore. I don't care who you sleep with. I don't care what you do. I'll be gone by the end of the week, and you'll have divorce papers soon."

Harrison stared at her, and she watched the emotions play across his face. Shock melted into disbelief and then defensive anger.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," He said finally, straightening his tie with sharp, agitated movements.

"So what if I've been close with Alicia? You're never around. You're always locked in that lab, obsessing over work and barely speaking to me for days at a time. What did you expect?"

Violet felt even more anger rush through her veins. The only reason she obsessed over work was because he never gave her any attention and treated her like shit!

"I expected my husband not to cheat on me. Apparently, that was asking too much."

"It's not…" Harrison cut himself off, jaw working as he struggled to find the right words. Words that would make this go away and make her back down like she always did.

"You're overreacting. You don't mean any of this. You're just upset about the project and taking it out on our marriage."

"I mean every word," Violet's voice was cold as ice. "I want a divorce. I'll be out of this house by Friday."

"No, you won't," Harrison's expression shifted, confidence returning onto his face. "You're not going anywhere, Violet. You're upset right now, but you'll calm down. You always do."

"Not this time."

"I know you will," He moved closer, and there was something almost pitiful in his expression. "Where would you even go? You have no money of your own. No friends outside the lab. No family. Everything you have is all because of me."

Each word was designed to hurt her and once upon a time, they would have.

"You need me," Harrison continued, his voice softening into something that might have passed for gentleness and care if it wasn't so condescending.

"I know you're angry right now, but you'll realize I'm right. You can't leave me, Violet. You can't survive without me."

"Watch me." She replied quietly.

Violet saw the first hint of actual concern in his eyes but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same arrogance from before.

"We're done with this conversation," He adjusted his cufflinks, dismissing her entirely.

"I have an investor meeting that's far more important than whatever breakdown you're having. When I get back tonight, you'll have calmed down, and we can discuss this like rational adults."

He walked past her toward the door, and Violet didn't move. She didn't even try to stop him. She just stood there, trembling with barely contained rage as he paused in the doorway.

"Get some sleep, Violet," He said without looking back. "You're not thinking straight."

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

For a long moment, Violet stood frozen in the middle of his spotless bedroom, her hands clenched into fists so tight her nails drew blood.

Then she let out a breath, forcing the rage down and locking it away in a box in her chest where it could burn without consuming her.

Harrison didn't matter right now. What mattered was Project Lazarus and the LZ-7 Strain.

The virus that would break containment in three weeks and tear the world apart. It would turn people into mindless, biting monsters and end civilization as they knew it.

She had to stop it. She needed to find a way to contain it, neutralize it and destroy it before it destroyed everything.

Violet moved quickly, her earlier exhaustion forgotten in the rush of adrenaline and purpose. She left Harrison's room and headed straight for her own, stripping off the silk pajamas and pulling on dark jeans, a black turtleneck and boots.

Her hands were steadier now and her breathing had evened out. The shock of waking up in the past was fading, replaced by cold, hard determination.

She grabbed her bag, checking that her ID badge and phone were inside. Her fingers brushed against something else, a small notebook she kept for jotting down research ideas. She pulled it out, staring at the blank pages.

She flipped open the notebook and started writing, her hand moving rapidly across the page. She wrote down everything she could remember about the outbreak.

The exact day it happened, March 24th. The time, 2:47 PM. The location, Lab Seven, Sub-Level Three, where they kept the high-containment specimens.

She remembered the alarms and the screaming. The scientists that had stumbled out of the lab with blood pouring from their necks.

If she could stop it at the source and prevent the initial breach, maybe…

No. Harrison wouldn't shut down the project. He had made that crystal clear, and she had no authority to do it herself.

As far as the institute was concerned, she was just another researcher. Harrison was the CEO. His word was law, but there had to be another way.

Violet grabbed her phone and pulled up the institute's directory, scrolling through names and faces. Who could she convince? Who would listen?

Her finger hovered over one name. Jude Barnard, Harrison's step-brother. The man everyone avoided because of his sharp tongue and sharper temper.

They hated each other. They spent three years trading barbs and insults across the lab. She couldn't remember a single pleasant conversation they had ever had.

Would he even listen to her? She highly doubted it.

Violet closed the directory and shoved the phone into her bag. She didn't have time to figure out Jude Barnard's motivations.

She had to get to the lab and start working on a solution, even if Harrison wouldn't authorize it. Even if she had to do it in secret.

She grabbed her keys and headed for the door, her jaw set with determination.

Three weeks until the end of the world. The clock was already ticking.