We're Leaving

Noah's POV

His eyes swept across the room before finally settling on me. He stepped forward, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air.

"I forgot to confirm the time for tomorrow's inspection. And I don't have your number."

My adoptive father hurried towards him, eagerly extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sinclair."

Josh Sinclair's reputation was formidable enough that even people who had never met him knew better than to provoke him casually.

My family might have considered me their personal source of income, but they weren't stupid enough to assume they could challenge a man like Josh without consequences.

Josh stared at him blankly, his hands remaining tucked into his pockets.

My father's extended hand hung awkwardly between them. His welcoming smile faltered when Josh made no effort to acknowledge it.

"Is there a problem here?" Josh asked.

His voice was calm, but there was something about his expression that made it difficult to mistake the question for casual curiosity.

"N-no problem at all," my father replied, finally withdrawing his hand. He forced out a nervous laugh. "Just a little family disagreement. You know how young people can be. Sometimes they get carried away and…"

"I didn't ask you."

My father's mouth snapped shut.

Josh's attention shifted to me. His gaze briefly lingered on my dishevelled clothes before moving to the hand my brother was still holding.

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

His expression suggested he wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't press me. Instead, he reached into his jacket and retrieved his phone.

"I heard the commotion when I approached the door," he said, glancing at my family. "I started recording before I came inside."

My mother's face paled. Josh tapped his screen, and a recording began playing through the phone's speakers.

My father's furious voice filled the living room. "That's enough! You're going to fix this mess right now!"

Then came the sound of my mother's voice demanding my phone, followed by Ethan shouting at me to stop struggling. The recording continued for a few more seconds before Josh stopped it.

Nobody spoke.

My father looked as though he'd swallowed something from a witch's potion. My mother stared at the phone in his hand, while Ethan's earlier confidence had completely evaporated.

"I believe that gives me a fairly clear picture of what happened here," Josh said.

"Mr. Sinclair, you don't understand," my father began hurriedly. "This is a family matter. Noah has been behaving terribly, and we were only trying to make him understand…"

"By pinning him against a wall?"

My father's expression stiffened.

Josh slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"I suggest you stop making excuses. If Noah decides to take this further, the recording will be made available to the appropriate authorities."

My mother hurried forward. "Please, sir. There's no need to involve outsiders. We're his family. We only want what's best for him."

"That's enough." The words landed with quiet finality.

Josh turned towards me. "Noah. Get your things."

I didn't need to be told twice. I hurried down the hallway to my old bedroom and retrieved the duffel bag I'd left there. It contained a few essentials, but the documents I needed were still in the bottom drawer of my desk.

I pulled out my birth certificate, academic diplomas and the other personal papers I'd kept there. After checking that everything was inside, I zipped the bag and returned to the living room.

My family was still standing in the same positions. My father looked furious, but the presence of Josh Sinclair had clearly robbed him of the confidence to express it. 

Ethan's gaze briefly dropped to my bag before returning to my face.

“You're really going to walk out of here with him?" He scoffed, looking between Josh and me. "You shameless little fag."

My steps faltered. My mother's eyes widened, but she made no effort to stop him.

"Is that how you've been getting everything you've got? Being a fancy toy for older men?" He laughed mockingly. "No wonder you've suddenly grown wings. You've found yourself a rich man to keep you comfortable, so now the rest of us are beneath you?"

I stared silently at him. For a moment, I wasn't standing in that living room anymore. I was back in my old home, listening to my family laugh at the very thing I'd spent years hiding from them.

Apparently, changing worlds hadn't been enough to escape that part of my life.

Then Josh stepped forward.

"Watch your mouth." His voice was quiet, but the warning in it was unmistakable.

Ethan scoffed. "What? Did I hit a nerve? Is that why you're so interested in him?"

Josh looked at him with undisguised contempt. "Your inability to recognise your brother's worth doesn't give you the right to question mine."

“He's not my brother,” Ethan gritted out.

Josh placed a hand lightly against my back.

"Come, Noah. We're leaving.”

I walked past my family without another word. And I didn't look back.

~~~

Josh's car was quiet and comfortable, a welcome contrast to the chaos I'd just left behind. I settled into the passenger seat, resting my hands on my lap as the car pulled away from the building.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Josh kept his attention on the road, occasionally glancing at the side mirrors. He seemed content to let me collect my thoughts rather than bombard me with questions. I appreciated that.

The adrenaline that had carried me through the confrontation was beginning to wear off, leaving behind a dull ache in my shoulders and an heaviness in my chest.

"Thank you," I eventually said.

Josh glanced at me. "For what?"

"For getting me out of there."

"You shouldn't have had to deal with that in the first place."

I gave a humourless laugh. 

"Why do you put up with them?"

His question caught me off guard. I stared through the window, watching the buildings pass by. "I suppose at some point I got used to it."

Josh said nothing, so I continued.

"My parents died when I was young. My adoptive family took me in, and for a long time, I thought I owed them everything because of it."

I paused, trying to organise the memories that weren't entirely mine.

"They paid for some things when I was younger, but I worked hard too.” I smiled softly. "I became responsible for everyone. Whenever I tried to spend money on myself, there was always another bill, another emergency or another reason why I needed to help."

"And you never questioned it?"

I looked down at my hands. "After a while, it became easier to give them what they wanted than to deal with the abuse that followed whenever I refused."

Josh's grip tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

I'd spent so much of my life convincing myself that I was being selfish whenever I wanted something for myself. Even now, a small part of me wondered whether I'd been too harsh.

But then I remembered my father's hands gripping my shoulders and my mother's fingers digging into my pocket. No. I was done making excuses for them.

Josh glanced at me again. "You don't have to go back home yet."

I turned towards him. “Huh?”

"You can stay at my place for as long as you need."

I blinked before shaking my head. "Thank you for the offer, sir. But they don't know where I currently live. I'm perfectly safe there."

Josh studied me briefly before nodding. "As you wish. The offer still stands.”

We drove for several more minutes, the city's evening traffic gradually thinning as we moved towards the quieter outskirts. I was beginning to relax when something caught my attention.

The sky. I leaned closer to the window, frowning.

A strange orange glow stretched across the horizon. It wasn't the usual fading colours of a sunset. The clouds looked unusually thick, their undersides stained a deep copper-red.

I glanced at the dashboard. The external temperature reading made me sit up.

98°F.

I stared at it. That couldn't be right.

I checked the time on my phone. It was already late in the evening, yet the temperature was still climbing.

"Is something wrong?" Josh asked, noticing my sudden movement.

I looked towards him. "What's the temperature outside?"

His eyes flicked briefly to the dashboard.

"Apparently, ninety-eight degrees."

"That's unusually high for this time of night."

"Yes. It is."

I turned back towards the window. Even with the car's air conditioning running, I could feel an uncomfortable warmth creeping through the cabin.

My stomach tightened. According to the system, we still had ninety days before the first phase of the apocalypse. The Great Heat Wave.

That was supposed to be enough time to prepare. Enough time to secure the warehouse, gather supplies and establish a safe place before the world began to collapse.

But the weather outside didn't look normal.

I remembered Ethan's stockpile.His strange urgency when he'd demanded access to my accounts. And now this. 

Was it possible that the timeline had already changed? And was I really the only person who knew what was coming?

I looked at the sky again, my fingers tightening around the edge of my seat.

What if I no longer had three months?

What if the apocalypse was coming much sooner than the novel had predicted?