Chapter 1

The quake hit, and my husband left me, fever-burning, our son with a broken leg, behind.

He cradled the neighbor's little boy in one arm and clasped the widowed mother's hand with the other, sprinting over us toward the exit.

I watched his back disappear, my heart caving in.

Ten years of marriage, leveled in sixty seconds of shaking earth.

But the real aftershock, the one that would tear everything apart, hadn't even started.

*****

I was sprawled on the couch, forehead on fire, eyelids sagging like they'd been glued shut with quarters.

Three-year-old Lucas was sprawled across my lap, his little face flushed with fever, just like me.

Five-year-old Sophie sat nearby, mimicking me with her tiny hands as she gently placed a wet towel on Lucas's forehead.

"Mommy, you need one too," Sophie said, clumsily pressing another small towel to my forehead.

I managed a weak smile.

"Thank you, sweetheart," I said, my voice so hoarse it was barely audible.

My phone screen lit up with a message from David Bennett: [Working late tonight, not coming home for dinner.]

I stared at the message for a few seconds, not bothering to reply.

This was already the third time this week he'd "worked late."

I reached up to touch my burning forehead, guessing I must have a fever of at least 102°F.

Both kids were burning up, too, but David always had something more important going on than his own family.

"Mommy, I want some water." Lucas's weak voice pulled me back to reality.

I struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness hitting me hard.

I shuffled to the water cooler and gave the tap a crank. There was nothing but a hollow glug and a whole lotta air.

I swore under my breath, snatched the empty jug, and lumbered toward the kitchen to swap it out, but nearly face-planting over my own two left feet.

"Mommy, be careful!" Sophie cried out.

Right then, a weird rumble shook up from below, and the whole house started rocking like crazy.

Earthquake!

"Under the table, now!" I lunged for the kids, but the fever turned my limbs to wet cement and the room into slow-motion fog.

Sophie had already crawled under the dining table, but Lucas just stood there, lost and sobbing.

The whole house bucked like a rodeo bull, chandelier whipping overhead, frames cannonballing off the walls in a one-two-three drumbeat of glass.

I stumbled, scooped Lucas up in my arms, and was just about to head for the table when I heard the front door burst open.

"David?" I turned and saw my husband at the door, panic written all over his face.

"Earthquake! Run!" he yelled, not even glancing at the kids or me before rushing out the door.

In that moment, it was like someone had grabbed my heart and crushed it.

With everything falling apart, I didn't have a second to think. I scooped Lucas up and dragged Sophie by the hand, bolting out the door.

The hallway was total mayhem, neighbors screaming and pushing, shoving their way toward the stairs.

My head was spinning so bad my arms felt like jelly holding Lucas, while Sophie clung to my shirt, crying her eyes out. "Mommy, I'm scared!" she sobbed.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart, just hold on to me!" I gritted my teeth, trying not to pass out, forcing myself to move one shaky step at a time down the stairs.

Just as we were struggling to make it around the corner on the fifth floor, someone came barreling down the stairs and slammed right into me.

I lost my balance, Lucas slipped from my arms, and I crashed hard onto the landing.

"Emily?" a familiar voice called out from the top of the stairs.

I looked up and saw David, clutching Linda Lane from upstairs by the hand, with her four-year-old son in his arms.

Linda was in a white dress, looking like a damsel in distress, while her son clung to David's neck for dear life.

"Daddy!" Sophie sobbed, reaching out for him.

David's face flashed with embarrassment, but before he could react, Linda interrupted with a panicked shout, "David, the aftershock!"

Sure enough, the building started shaking again, the lights in the stairwell flickering, and plaster dust raining down from the ceiling.

"Honey, be brave, I'll come back for you later," David shouted, not even turning his head as he bolted down the stairs, clutching Linda's son in one arm and dragging her by the hand.

"Daddy, up!" Lucas wailed, flat on the tiles, arms stretched high.

He caught David's jeans in a death-grip, but David only looked down ice-cold, then jerked his leg free, leaving Lucas holding empty denim and a mouthful of sobs.

Lucas was sent sprawling forward by the sudden movement, right into the path of the panicked crowd rushing down the stairs.

I heard a scream as I saw an adult stomp hard on Lucas's leg.

"Lucas!" I screamed, crawling toward my son, but the stampede kept pushing me away, no matter how hard I tried.

Sophie stood frozen in terror, tears streaming down her face.