Chapter 4: Uninvited Guests

POV: Avery

For the next three days I turned the warehouse into a home. I paid contractors double to fix the heater in two days. I put heavy locks on every door and cameras around the building.

One corner had a bed, a small kitchen and a desk. I even set a small heater by the bed. The rest was shelves full of canned food, water, medicine, batteries and fuel. 

On the fourth day, I was checking the new heater when the security monitor beeped.

I had called that woman's number again and again, and it never went through. In the end I gave up and pushed it aside. Maybe I shouldn't have.

A black sedan was parked outside my door. My mother stepped out of the driver's seat, and my father got out from the other side. 

Then the back doors opened, and Chloe climbed out with her hand on her belly, and Damien came out last in a long, expensive coat.

All four of them walked toward the door together. My blood ran cold. I hadn't told a single person where I was. How did they know?

I stood frozen in front of the monitor, trying to understand how they found me. I had been careful. 

My heart was racing. In my last life, these four people watched me freeze. Now they were standing at my door, smiling.

I walked to the window and slide it open. "What do you want?" I asked through the window.

"Avery," my mother said. Her voice was softer than I had ever heard it. "Please, we need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about." I responded sternly.

"Just five minutes. That's all we're asking." She clapped her hands together pleadingly.

"How did you find me?" I asked. There was a pause.

"Walter called me," my mother said. "The real estate agent. We are old acquaintances, and we don't talk often. But he said someone who used to be in our family just bought a three million dollar warehouse. He thought it was strange, and so did I."

I cursed under my breath. Of course the man couldn't keep his mouth shut about a cash sale that big.

"So you came to see if it's true?" I asked.

"We came to apologize," my father said. "And to help."

Chloe stepped forward with her hand on her belly and tears in her eyes. "Avery, I'm so sorry. We never wanted to hurt you." She was crying so well, it was almost funny.

"We just want us to be one family again," Chloe said softly. "My baby needs an aunty." I wanted to slap her so badly, but I was still inside. "I'm sure your baby will be fine," I said coldly.

My mother smiled. It looked rehearsed, like she practiced it in the mirror. "Avery, we know you must have gotten money somehow. And that is wonderful. But you are only twenty six, and you don't know how to manage wealth on…m"

"I'm fine on my own." I cut her off.

"Are you?" My father pointed at the warehouse. "You bought this place for three million dollars. Do you have a plan? Or did you buy it on impulse?"

"What I do with my money is none of your business."

"It becomes our business when we care about you," my mother said. "We raised you, Avery. We made mistakes, but that doesn't mean we stopped caring."

I almost laughed in her face. "You abused me, and even gave my husband to Chloe. That is not caring."

"We handled that badly," my father said. "But families make mistakes. We work through it together."

"We are not family anymore. We made that official at city hall."

My mother's face tightened, but she kept her voice gentle. "That was a mistake. We acted too fast, but it can be reversed if everyone agrees. We can bring back the adoption, and you will be our daughter again."

"And the divorce isn't final yet," Damien said. It was the first time he spoke. "We can pull the papers back and start over." He stood there in his long coat, looking at the warehouse like he was pricing it.

There it was. They wanted me back now that I had money.

"Let me guess," I said. "You will help me manage my money, make sure I don't waste it, and in return I come back to the family."

"We would want to rebuild our relationship," my mother said carefully. "The financial guidance would just be us helping you."

"And you want what? A management f*e? Control of my accounts?"

My father stepped forward. "Avery, you're young. Money disappears fast when you are careless. We have experience and connections, and we can turn what you have into generational wealth."

"I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do." My mother's gentle voice started to crack. "You're buying warehouses and hoarding supplies like a paranoid survivalist. That's not normal. That's someone who doesn't know what to do with sudden money."

I looked at her through the window. In my last life, this woman laughed while her daughter froze. Now she was standing here pretending to care because I had money.

"The adoption has ended," I said. "Legally and permanently. I'm not your daughter, and I don't owe you anything."

Her mask finally broke. "After everything we did for you? We took you in when nobody wanted you. We fed you and clothed you for twenty years plus, and this is how you pay us back?"

"You took me in because you couldn't have your own child. The moment Chloe was born, I became nothing to you."

"Ungrateful!" my mother shouted. "You are a selfish child. Keep your money and waste it. When it finishes, don't come crawling back to us."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Damien leaned in, his voice low so the others couldn't hear. "You think you've won, Avery. You have no idea what you're doing." 

I looked straight at him. "Yes I have, so do your worst Damien."

My father pulled my mother's arm. "Let's go. She won't listen." She jerked free but walked to the car, and at the door she turned back. "You will regret this, Avery. When you need help, and you will, we won't be there."

They drove off. And I scoffed. Why should I regret it. I was about closing my window when my phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number.

    *I already told you that you are not the only one who came back. If you want to know the truth and how to know more about the apocalypse, meet me by 8PM tomorrow night in the old factory on the Westside. COME ALONE.*

I stared at it. Was this the same woman who called me four days ago, the one who knew I had been reborn. 

I typed back: *Why should I trust you?* The reply came immediately.

*Because you need allies. And I need someone with resources. Come tomorrow by 8pm. Don't be late.*