"Lesley was pregnant with my child when she died! I've been waiting for this day! You and your brat can burn in hell together!"

I felt my baby kicking inside me as I was roasted alive in the desert. The searing pain of my skin blistering made me shudder.

"What's with that look on your face?!"

Maybe the memories from my past life had left my expression a little grim. Owen's tone sharpened with impatience. He grabbed the bag of Lesley's clothes and shoved it into my arms.

"Let me make this clear, Wanda. Don't pull that pathetic face on me. We're about to get married. This is my home too. Lesley is moving in today. And if you won't let her stay, then I'm leaving too!"

Using my feelings for him as leverage?

How laughable. I wasn't the same Wanda from my last life anymore.

A cold smile curled across my lips. I lifted Lesley's bag and hurled it straight into Owen's face.

"Then leave. I'd love nothing more. Get out of my house!"

I kicked every last piece of Lesley's luggage that Owen had dragged to the doorway out into the hall. Then I slammed the door shut so hard the frame rattled.

I deleted Owen's fingerprint from the lock immediately.

The door lock beeped several times: "Fingerprint not recognized. Fingerprint not recognized."

Then Lesley's sugary little voice drifted in from the other side.

"Owen, honey, don't be upset. When you told me about that whole 'Frost System' thing, I didn't believe it for a second. Wanda probably learned some cheap parlor trick to get your attention..."

"Besides, it's just a heat advisory. What's the big deal? We're in the south, and it's the middle of summer. Didn't we get one of those warnings last year too? It was over in three days. Life went on."

Owen gradually calmed down under Lesley's cooing, completely forgetting the grim prediction he'd made just last night.

Owen was a meteorology graduate student. He'd been poring over satellite cloud maps yesterday, his face drawn tight with worry.

"Wanda, this heat event is no joke. It could last a long time, and temperatures might blow past last year's hundred-and-thirteen-degree record..."

That brilliance was exactly what had drawn me to him in the first place. Who could have guessed he'd turn out to be so rotten and so stupid when it came to love?

A shrill ringtone cut through my thoughts.

Owen.

His voice oozed smugness from the other end.

"Wanda, if it weren't for Lesley talking some sense into me, you almost had me fooled! Go ahead and spend the rest of your life alone if you've got the guts! You and your little 'Frost System' deserve each other!"

He hung up before I could say a word.

Through the door, I heard his voice go soft and tender.

"Come on, Lesley. Let's go back to my place. Let that idiot sit here with her little freezer trick for the rest of her life."

I glanced at the clock and sank back onto the couch, a cold laugh escaping my lips.

Little freezer trick? Give it twenty-four hours. You'll all be on your knees begging me.

Of course, I had no intention of riding out the apocalypse alone with the Frost System.

Because in my past life, midway through the disaster, people had started noticing something was off about my home. The door was ice-cold to the touch. No one in the household had ever died. And there was always fresh trash outside the front door.

They didn't know why, but they knew we had a way to survive.

That led to dozens of incidents where mobs surrounded our house. If it hadn't been for a few men in the family, we never would have held them off.

The thought sent me digging through my memories, searching desperately until I finally recalled that phone number.

I grabbed my phone and dialed.

The call connected almost immediately. I rubbed the hem of my shirt between my fingers, nerves twisting in my stomach, and spoke softly.

"Hi, is this Clay Sanchez? I'm the owner of unit 1201, Building 8, Entrance 3..."

A low voice came through the other end.

"What is it?"

"Um... are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if you'd like to... marry me."

In my previous life, when the mob had surrounded our home, Owen had already fled to the basement like a coward. Inside the apartment, it was just my dad and Herbert fighting alongside us, desperately trying to hold them off. But outside, Clay had been the one keeping us alive.

At first, I'd assumed it was just neighborly goodwill.

But the day Owen abandoned me in the desert—left me to bake alive under that merciless sun—Clay went out alone. He searched for an entire day and night until he found my body. He buried me with his own hands.

I heard him weeping at my grave, and that was when I finally understood.

He'd been in love with me for years.

He'd never said a word because I'd been so wrapped up in Owen that there was never any room for anyone else. After I died, he took care of my parents as if they were his own. And in the end, he used every ounce of his influence in Capital City to drive Owen's company into bankruptcy.

That was when I learned the truth—Clay Sanchez was the head of the Capital City Syndicate. The only reason he'd ever lived in our modest little neighborhood was because he wanted to be close to me.

"Hello? Are you going to answer me or not?"

Silence on the other end. My cheeks burned.

"If you don't say something, I'm hanging up!"

What is wrong with this man...

My thumb hovered over the end-call button when that low voice finally came through again.

"I'm already at your door. Don't wait until this afternoon. I want to go now."

We walked out of City Hall with our marriage certificate, and Clay was immediately called away by one of his men—something urgent at the company. I watched him go, then checked the time.

Less than twelve hours until the end of the world.

I drove straight to the biggest supermarket in Capital City. Maybe because last year's heatwave had only lasted three days, everyone had let their guard down. The store was nearly empty.

I let out a breath of relief.

I grabbed compressed biscuits, instant noodles, pickled vegetables, cured meat—anything that would keep and fill a stomach. Then I made a beeline for the water aisle.

Once the apocalypse actually hit, this water wouldn't just be for drinking. I could freeze it into ice blocks with my system to keep my family cool. Water was the single most important thing for survival, so I needed to take as much as I could carry.

I was loading case after case into my cart when I spotted them across the aisle—Owen and Lesley, arm in arm, walking straight toward me.

I turned to leave.

Owen's hand slammed down on the case of water I'd just picked up.

"Wanda, how can you be this selfish? You're cleaning out the entire store. What about everyone else?"

I gestured at the deserted supermarket around us and stared at him.

"Which eye are you using to see me 'cleaning out' anything? Look around. Do you see a single other customer? Who exactly am I keeping from buying water?" I let the contempt drip from every word. "If your brain's broken, go see a doctor. Don't stand here making me sick."

I had zero interest in wasting time on Owen. I gripped my cart and steered toward the next aisle.

He stepped directly into my path.

"You're keeping me from buying. I just reserved every bottle of water in this store. Without my say-so, you're not walking out of here with a single one."

"Reserved? I don't have time for your jokes."

I shoved him aside, my voice dropping to ice.

"Block me one more time and I'm calling security."

There was almost no time left. I truly could not be bothered with him.

I grabbed my cart and tried to leave.

But Owen seized the handle and held on tight. He looked at me with a vicious smile, then pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Hello, is this the purchasing manager at Lucky Star Supermarket? I want to buy every last bottle of water in your store. The deposit has already been transferred to your company account. Don't sell another drop to anyone else."

It happened in the blink of an eye.

A middle-aged man's voice came through the other end, dripping with eagerness to please. "Of course, of course..."

A moment later, the supermarket's PA system crackled to life with a flat, mechanical announcement:

"Attention, shoppers. All water products in this store have been sold out. Please visit another location for your water needs..."

Owen let out a cold laugh, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he looked at me.

"How about that? I told you—without my say-so, you're not walking out of here with a single bottle. Now put every last one of those back on the shelf where you found them. You hear me?!"

I glanced at the time. Less than five hours until the end of the world.

I still had a mountain of daily necessities to prepare. Rush hour was in full swing. Getting to the next supermarket would take forever. And worse, Owen's phone call had probably already sent shockwaves through the store's internal network. By the time I drove to another location, the shelves would be stripped bare.

Without water, my family wouldn't survive the three months of hell that were coming.

I'd been given a second chance at life, and instead of saving everyone, I'd dragged my family and Clay down with me.

The more I thought about it, the more panic clawed at my chest. Tears burned behind my eyes.

Owen was still running his mouth.

"Wanda, considering you waited on me hand and foot for seven years, I'll make you a deal. If you agree right now to let Lesley and her family move into your place, and then get on your knees and apologize to her, I'll let you take the water. Otherwise, I'm hauling every last bottle out of here myself."

Lesley planted her hands on her hips and sneered at me.

"Go on, sweetie. Kneel. Or we're taking all of it."

"You're not taking anything."

The words came from behind me before Lesley's smirk could settle. A low, familiar voice.

Clay was standing at my back. I had no idea when he'd arrived.

He pointed at Owen and Lesley, his tone ice-cold.

"Get out."

Irritation flashed across Owen's face. He jabbed a finger at Clay.

"Who the hell are you?! This is between me and my girlfriend. What's it got to do with you?!"

Clay grabbed Owen's outstretched finger and bent it backward. Hard.

Over the shrill, ugly sound of Owen's screaming, Clay spoke, his voice steady and low.

"I own this supermarket. So I'm going to need you to get out. Right now."

My mind went blank.

This supermarket was Clay's.

What had I been panicking for?

"And before you leave," Clay continued, "put back every single item you pulled off those shelves. Exactly where you found them."

I looked at Owen's cart, heaped with a chaotic mountain of goods, and couldn't hold back a laugh.

Sorting through that mess and returning everything to its proper place would take at least three hours.

I checked my watch. Four hours until the heat hit.

Owen wouldn't have time to prepare a thing.

"Fine! We'll put it back!"

Lesley planted her hands on her hips, craned her neck at Clay, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Owen scrambled behind her, yanking at her clothes, trying desperately to shut her up. It didn't work.

So Lesley's stupidity wasn't an act after all.

But Owen still had a shred of sense left. He shoved Lesley behind him, pointed at the cart full of goods, and ground out through clenched teeth—