In my last life, Perry was a menace. He couldn't sleep at night and insisted on having someone play with him.

That noise attracted zombies to where we were staying.

I had to risk my neck clearing the safe zone—again.

Meanwhile, Willa wouldn't shut up about the noise wrecking her nerves. Worried it'd "stress out" her and the baby, I went to shut things down.

Didn't expect just calling out Perry would make Miranda lose it. She started flailing and screeching.

And right on cue, Willa stepped into the spotlight—telling me to let it go.

She'd been whining nonstop, but now she wanted to play the saint.

"Zombies can be killed again, but a child's only childhood should be cherished."

Please. What a steaming pile of crap.

Miranda ate that line up. After that, she was on me nonstop, always poking, always whining.

And just like that, I became the group's official villain—selfish, disruptive, the so-called threat to "group harmony."

Too bad for them, I wasn't playing nice this time.

I grabbed Perry and shoved his head deep into the couch cushions.

Instant volume drop.

"Stop it! Bullying a helpless grandma and her grandson—have you no shame?!" Miranda shrieked, flapping her arms.

I held up a finger. "Shh. Listen."

The growling outside? Way louder now.

Took them long enough to notice.

"What's going on?" the woman from the couple whispered.

The howls in the stairwell echoed loud and clear.

"S-Sounds like they're coming up..."

Silence dropped like a weight. Everyone went ghost-pale.

All eyes landed on me, waiting for answers.

I let Perry go. He bolted to Miranda, shaking like a leaf.

I shrugged, nodded at Willa. "Ask her. She wanted to play hero, so I ran for backup. Locked the door behind me..."

I turned to her. "So not only did you flop the rescue, you forgot to lock the main door?"

Heads swiveled. Willa started shaking, furious. "You're horrible! I was trying to save someone! You could've helped—he died because of you!"

I stared like she'd lost her mind. "You're giving me way too much credit. You dragged a whole horde over here and thought what, I'd solo them? I figured you had some hidden power, the way you charged in. But that was it?"

Zombies hit the sixth floor, clawing at the door.

Everyone froze.

I didn't. I looked straight at Willa. "You made this mess. Clean it up."

"Selene?!" Willa gawked like I'd slapped her. "How can you treat me like this? Aren't you my sister?"

I laughed. "Oh, now I'm your sister? I'm the older one, not your maid. You're dead weight. Can't lift, can't carry, just eat and whine. And now you've got a baby? Be real. If we weren't related, you think I'd have kept you around?"

I grabbed a big bag, dropped a smaller one on the floor.

"Guess I spoiled you too much. That's why you forgot your lane. These people? You dragged them in. Not my problem."

I nudged the bag toward her. "Enough for you and the kid. Whether you share it? Up to you."

Then I looked around.

"The rest of you? Don't bother me. I don't owe you anything."

In my last life, they called me selfish for not sharing supplies.

I didn't care. I nearly died getting those rations—for my family.

Turns out, Willa had been handing them out behind my back. Just to hear a few thank-yous. Then she flipped it on me, said I never comforted her, never cared about her feelings. Claimed I was always breathing fire, scaring everyone off.

They ate my food, used my stuff, clung to me to stay alive.

But when things went south? They were the first to throw me under.

Whatever. Let Saint Willa deal with them.

***

Willa looked wrecked—just stood there like some sad statue.

Head tilted at the perfect angle, of course. Tears rolled down her flawless cheeks in slow motion.

Stubborn. Haloed. All tragic-heroine vibes without saying a word.

Red eyes. Pouty lips.

Total drama queen.

Made my flatbread taste amazing.

I kept chewing, soaking it in.

No wonder she was the female lead. Girl weaponized beauty.

The chat feed lit up:

[Wait, is the plot kinda off?]

["Kinda off"? It's in another galaxy.]

[Selene dipped without blinking—I nearly choked laughing.]

[What about the baby? Tristan's dead, Willa's alone—Selene's a monster.]

The bedroom door creaked.

Cough, cough.

Enzo staggered out, face burning with fever.

He clocked Miranda pocketing supplies but stayed quiet, dragging himself over to sit next to me.

"Don't be mad." He patted my head.

Then glanced at Willa—still crying like she trained for it—and sighed. "You two've been at it since forever. Isn't it time to stop? I heard everything. Don't talk to Willa like that. She's just... too nice. So nice it's stupid. You're the older one—can't you cut her some slack?"

He gave me that soft, pitying look like I was some brat who didn't know better.

I finished my flatbread, looked up. "Hm? When'd your hands come loose? Turn around."

I grabbed a rope and tied him back up quick.

"Whew. Close one."

Enzo had a sketchy little wound and a fever that wouldn't quit. For safety, he agreed to be tied up—just in case things went sideways.

Last time, I couldn't bring myself to restrain him. Locked him in my room instead.

Bad call. The bite was real.

He didn't turn zombie—ended up with a Power instead—but nothing's guaranteed now. I wasn't taking any chances.

"Selene, I know you're upset. I'm your boyfriend. I just want you to be happy. You care so much about Willa... and the baby. I'm scared you'll regret this."

Tch. What a buzzkill.

I smacked him. Hard.

His gold-rimmed glasses slipped sideways.

Then I gave his cheek a light pat. "Shut up, trash."

***

I dragged him back into the bedroom.

"Selene, untie me. Let's just talk." He flopped onto the bed, shirt bunched up, skin flushed and sweaty.

"Enzo." I brushed his face. "You're dying or what?"

"What are you even saying?" He gave a shaky laugh. "Don't jinx me."

"If you're dying, and we've never done it after all this time... kinda sad, right? I'm curious what feverish Enzo feels like." I leaned in, voice low.

"You—" He jerked, face twisted. "That's not funny, haha..."

I didn't answer. My hand was already sliding down.

"Wait!" he blurted, full panic now. "Okay, fine! I was bitten. If you sleep with me... you'll get infected."

I laughed softly, pulling my hand back. "So that's the truth."

Never actually planned to sleep with him. Just wanted to see if he'd crack.

Sure enough, the chat feed went wild:

[Shameless tramp! Still clinging to Willa's leftovers!]

[Even if he's just one of her simps, he belongs to Willa!]

[Omg Selene's smile is fire—literally gasped.]

[Hands off! He's not yours!]

...

A few backed me up, but most were straight-up hate.

Guess Enzo never really liked me after all.

Last time, he died protecting Willa. I didn't think twice—figured he cared because I did.

But the chat feed clued me in.

The Palmers lived next door. Enzo grew up with us. He'd always been into Willa.

When he finally confessed, she said, "Sorry, Selene likes you... I can't..."

She didn't want him, but she didn't want to lose his loyalty either. So, as usual, she threw me under the bus.

Enzo blamed me for getting in the way. But sticking with me let him stay close to her. He was fine with that.

He even made some dramatic vow as a kid—said he'd never touch any girl but Willa. Saving himself for her.

We were together eight years. He never laid a finger on me.

I remembered when we were little—Willa snatched my pendant.

That emerald pendant had been mine for as long as I could remember. When Willa snatched it, my gut reaction was to snatch it right back.

Before I could, Enzo showed up with a cheap plastic hairclip and that fake sunshine smile.

"Be good, Selene. Give Willa the pendant and she'll trade you this 'crystal' clip. You two need to get along. You're older—let her have it, okay?"

A busted hairclip... for my heirloom pendant.

He was five years older and still pulled that con with a straight face.

He said I was the one he valued most—because I "knew how to take responsibility." Said he admired girls with that quality.

It stung. I knew something was off, but still—his words made me feel seen.

Enzo always played the calm, mature type.

He clearly had a soft spot for Willa, but he masked it behind fake neutrality. Always telling me not to "hold grudges." Always nudging me to keep shielding her.

I let out a cold laugh. What a warped kind of love.

I stood and cracked the door, letting him watch the mess unfold in the living room with me.

***

The banging on the door kept getting louder.

A young couple and two middle-aged spouses were bracing it with all they had.

Miranda? Completely useless. She just sat there, snacking and doting on her pudgy grandson like they weren't seconds from death.

"Oh, my sweet baby. You must've been terrified. Here, have some milk to calm down."

Perry took one sip—and spit it everywhere.