The Family Survival Fund and Apocalypse Revenge

I had just gotten off work when my father, Stanley Reily, came looking for me.

He didn't bother with small talk, asking anxiously, "Amelia, I heard through some back channels that an extreme-heat apocalypse is coming. You work at the National Weather Service—you should know best. Is that true?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "I can't be certain either, but we can start preparing ahead of time."

The moment the words left my mouth, my mother's face drained of color. She grabbed my arm. "Then what are we supposed to do? You're the expert—think of something, quick."

My father looked at me, his expression heavy. "Amelia, why don't we set up a family survival fund? We'll put you fully in charge. If the apocalypse really comes, at least we'll be ready."

I agreed without hesitation. "All right."

He continued, "You've been working for years since graduating. You've saved up quite a bit, so naturally you'll be contributing the largest share—"

Before he could finish, I took out my salary card and placed it on the table. "That's fine. This is my entire income. I'll put all of it in."

The three of them lit up instantly.

Then I changed the subject. "Hand over everything valuable you own as well— including all the jewelry you're wearing."

"What?" Daisy Mitchell shrieked first, reflexively clutching her necklace.

"Amelia, what do you mean by that? Your dad gave me these for our wedding. How could you—"

"Mom," I cut her off coldly, my gaze utterly calm, "in the apocalypse, jewelry can't be eaten, and they won't protect you from eighty-degree heat."

Denise Reily's expression shifted too. She stroked her pink diamond ring like a treasured possession and forced a smile. "Sis, aren't you being a little extreme? It wouldn't hurt to keep one or two pieces, right? What if we need them later…"

"There is no 'what if,'" I said flatly, leaving no room for negotiation.

I turned to my father. "Dad, you decide. In my plan, there is no allowance for private stashes. Any amount of hidden reserves could be the last straw that crushes our chances of survival. After all, we're facing a global disaster."

"Listen to Amelia!" he barked, making his decision.

Daisy and Denise looked pained and unwilling, but in the end, they obediently handed everything over.

I scanned the pile and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now, write down the passwords to all your bank cards."

The next day, I received a bank card holding all of their savings—280 thousand dollars.

Daisy took my hand, her voice earnest. "Amelia, this is our family's entire hope. You need to spend it carefully."

I accepted the cards and nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Mom. I will."

Next, I turned on my computer, logged into a professional asset valuation website, and entered the information for the apartment we were currently living in.

A number quickly popped up on the screen.

Market valuation: 450 thousand dollars.

The corners of my lips curved slightly.

Relying on their savings alone wouldn't be nearly enough. This house, too, was about to make its contribution to the "family survival fund."