Reborn to Bury Them at Sea

A push alert from the National Hurricane Center popped up on my phone.

"Hurricane Rosalind: sustained winds of 130 mph."

"23 hours until landfall at Tampa Bay."

"Babe, I heard you had a catamaran converted into a storm shelter at a Miami shipyard last month.

"The National Hurricane Center just upgraded Rosalind to a Category 4 hurricane. It's supposed to hit Tampa Bay tomorrow morning, and the storm surge could flood the whole area. I was thinking I'd bring Mom, Dad, and Lily aboard for a few days until it blows over. You don't mind, do you?

"Besides, you wouldn't want to make a bad impression on your future in-laws by turning them away the first time they visit, would you?"

Paul's warm, deep voice came through my Bluetooth earpiece. He sounded as caring as ever, though he clearly expected me to say yes.

I gripped the steering wheel of my SUV and watched the first raindrop hit the windshield. Deep in my right ear, I could almost hear the roar from the day he ruptured my eardrum in my past life.

Long lines stretched outside the supermarkets, and the interstate was packed with cars heading north.

"Are you listening, Susie? Are you still upset about dinner last week?

"My Mom might've gone a little overboard throwing that soup in your face, but you know she has a sensitive stomach. You put black pepper in her cream soup anyway. What did you expect?

"And Lily even defended you yesterday. She told everyone you were just clumsy, not that you meant to disrespect Mom.

"I've already smoothed things over with them. Just let them stay on the yacht until the storm passes and get on their good side. Then we can forget this whole thing ever happened, okay?"

Paul gave a soft laugh on the other end, as if he were coaxing a sulking pet.

In my last life, I'd fallen for his routine of cruelty followed by affection, and it had kept me trapped for three years.

My parents ran an international cargo fleet out of Singapore. I grew up alone on our estate in Palm Beach, and I had always longed for a warm, noisy family.

Paul knew exactly where my soft spot was. When he was courting me, he brought me breakfast every single day. When it rained, he tilted his whole umbrella over me. I thought I'd found a safe harbor for the rest of my life.

No matter how much his parents criticised me or how often Lily schemed against me behind my back, all Paul had to do was take my hand and say, "We've always thought of you as family."

And just like that, I'd give in to their every demand.

When the hurricane came, I even let his entire family take shelter aboard the ocean-going yacht I'd spent nearly $7 million converting into a storm shelter.

And how did they repay me? By cutting up my life jacket, rupturing my eardrum, and leaving me to drown in filthy water crawling with parasites.

"Susie? Is the signal bad?"

"I'm listening, Paul."

I swallowed my anger and kept my voice perfectly calm.

"Where are you guys now? Do you want me to send a car to pick you up?"

"No need. I just pulled out of the neighborhood. We're headed to the Palm Beach marina now.

"Oh, and make sure the primary suite is ready for my parents. Lily's a light sleeper, she can have the guest room upstairs with the panoramic terrace.

"There's a crew cabin down in the hold that used to be a storage room, right? You can stay there for a few days. It's not ideal, but you'll manage. And you can cook while you're down there.

"Mom and Dad like their beef bone broth made fresh, so stop by the supermarket before it closes and pick up some ribs and organic vegetables.

"And whatever you do, don't get any peanut butter this time. Vivian's severely allergic. Even the smell makes her break out in hives."

My fingers went still on the steering wheel.

Vivian was my college roommate and the person I'd trusted most in my previous life.

I was severely allergic to shellfish, but whenever I cooked at Paul's house, his mother made me peel shrimp with my bare hands.

Even when my hands were swollen and covered in sores, Paul would just shrug it off. "Peel a few more and you'll build up a tolerance."

Yet Vivian only had to mention her peanut allergy once, and Paul was already policing what I could keep on my own yacht.

"Vivian's with you guys too?"

"No. She lives alone in an apartment in a flood-prone part of West Palm Beach. It's not safe for her to stay there, so I'll pick her up on the way. We can even play bridge once we're all aboard.

"You've always been such a good friend. Surely you won't mind one more person, right?"

"Of course not. The more the merrier."

"That's my girl. Once the storm blows over, I'll get you that Tiffany diamond ring you've always wanted and pop the question."

The call ended. I hit the gas and turned my black SUV onto the road to the private marina, driving into the thickening rain.

Half an hour later, I pulled into the Palm Beach marina and boarded the Noah at slip three.

I hadn't bought a single beef rib. Instead, I went straight to the bridge on the third deck and hit the switch for the titanium blast door that sealed off the luxury living quarters on the top deck.

The hydraulic lock engaged with a heavy clunk, and a red light flashed on.

Built to meet SOLAS international maritime safety standards, the blast door could withstand several tons of water pressure and external impact. I'd sealed it shut from the inside.