Chapter 1

In the scorching apocalypse, everyone was on edge.

But my soft-hearted husband, Martin Grace, and his mother, Helen Grace, just wouldn't listen to me. They went ahead and invited our neighbors, Yvette Carter, and her son, Lucas Carter, over to eat and drink their fill.

I watched the weather forecast. The temperature was still sky-high, and something just felt off.

I tried to talk Martin out of inviting them over again.

But to my surprise, Martin, usually so calm, snapped. He pointed right at my face and yelled, "Why are you being so selfish? They're our neighbors. What's wrong with inviting them over for meals?"

Helen jumped up and slapped me hard. "We're running out of food, you good-for-nothing. Can't you just eat less? Lucas is a child. His life means more than yours. You can't even give us a child. Just make sure he's fed."

Before long, they'd eaten almost all the food I'd hoarded.

To save on rations, Martin and Helen, absolutely heartless, actually kicked me out of the house and left me to survive on my own.

I was burning up and dying of thirst.

Less than half an hour after being thrown out, I was cooked alive right there in the hallway.

Helen watched through the peephole as I took my last breath.

Then she clapped her hands in delight. "Perfect. That deadweight is finally gone. Now her house and car belong to my son and my grandson."

That's when it all clicked for me. Lucas was actually Martin's son.

They'd been plotting to get rid of me for ages.

Then, I went back to one day before the heatwave. I stared at the news, the heatwave warning blazing across the screen.

I looked at Martin and Helen and said, "I'm heading out. Won't be back for two weeks."

This time, I'll be kicking back, feasting on barbecue, sitting in the cool air, and watching their whole family burn.

*****

My phone buzzed with an alert: [Today's high is 118.4°F. Stay indoors. Avoid heatstroke.]

As I read it, it slowly dawned on me—I was back—three days before the heatwave hit.

I felt the cold air from the office's central AC blowing over me, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Then, the laughter turned into sobs I couldn't stop.

Thank God for giving me a second chance.

This time, I swore, every single person who had hurt me would pay.

I marched straight up to my boss and requested my annual leave.

Then I hopped in a cab and headed home.

When I got home, I found no one.

Helen, I guessed, was probably still out playing cards.

I gathered up all my important stuff and packed it up.

Then, I gave away all the pasta, canned soup, beans, and cereal I'd stockpiled to the old lady downstairs who scavenged for trash.

Once I was done, it was still early.

But I wasn't in any hurry to leave.

On my way home, I'd already decided. Even if I was leaving, there was no way I was letting Martin and Helen get off easy.

I ordered a few cameras from a local online store and set them up in hidden spots all around the house.

Then I whipped up a feast and just sat back, waiting for Martin and Helen to come home.

They walked in together.

When Helen saw the table loaded with good food, she instantly piped up, "Why don't we invite Yvette and Lucas from next door?"

She sneered, "A woman who can't give her husband a child doesn't deserve a meal like this. Go next door and ask them over."

Then she added, "Yvette gave her husband a kid. She's worth a hundred of you."

She smirked, "I'm inviting her for your own good. Maybe some of her luck will rub off on you."

This time, I didn't fire back at her like I usually did.

Every time we fought about me not having children, I would throw it in her face—how she'd ruined my body with that stuff she fed me.

If she hadn't fed me that pot of bad seafood chowder back then, I wouldn't have lost my baby girl at eight months.

And my womb wouldn't have been wrecked, leaving me unable to ever have kids again.

For years, Helen used that against me. She held it over my head at every turn.

I couldn't have kids, and that guilt ate away at me.

So I put up with all her torment and Martin's gaslighting, never daring to fight back.

I didn't know the truth until I died. Helen had made me lose my baby on purpose.

She'd never liked me and couldn't stand the thought of me having my own kid.

That's why she cooked up that pot of bad seafood chowder. She wanted to end the pregnancy.

Once she had Lucas, her precious grandson, she didn't give a damn about the kid I'd lost.

Thinking about my next move, I had to bite back the urge to rip that old hag apart.

I bowed my head, looking meek and submissive. "You're right, Helen. I really should learn from Yvette."

With that, I eagerly hurried out and knocked on Yvette's door.

Then, together with Helen, I put on my friendliest smile and invited Yvette and Lucas to join us.