Chapter 1
Right before a monster hurricane was about to hit, I called in some favors and snagged the last four spots at an exclusive private shelter.
But my dad's face went grim, and he started laying down the law.
"Charlotte," he said, "your brother's girlfriend is pregnant. She needs extra care right now, so you have to give up your spot in the shelter for her.
"You're in emergency rescue, tough as nails. You can make it anywhere, anyway."
A smile touched my lips, but it never reached my eyes.
"Don't worry, Dad," I said. "I'll get everyone squared away."
He looked convinced I'd caved again, strutting off to my brother like he'd just scored some big win.
My younger brother, Michael Walsh, just snorted at me. "See, Charlotte? It would've been easier if you'd just said yes. But no, you had to make Mom and Dad go through all that trouble. You just had to make it this ugly."
My mom was even worse, practically hissing her venom at me.
She said to Michael, "Charlotte is just being selfish. She knew damn well Evelyn is carrying your baby, but she still tried to fight her for a spot. She almost kept our family from sticking together. How heartless."
I didn't say a word, just watching their greedy, twisted faces.
In my previous life, I smiled and gave in, just like this. And for that, they ditched me without a second thought. In the end, I lost my life to the hurricane.
This time, I pulled out my phone right in front of their faces and canceled every single one of their shelter spots.
They would be stuck in the eye of the hurricane. I would make sure their whole "family of four" stayed together, for good.
*****
"Charlotte is nice, huh?" my dad said.
He looked incredibly smug. He clapped Michael on the shoulder, then turned to his sickeningly sweet girlfriend, Evelyn Chapman, to fish for praise.
"Oh, Mr. Walsh, you're a lifesaver," Evelyn cooed.
She stroked her totally flat stomach with a shy, triumphant smile on her face, then shot me a dirty look.
My mom came out of the kitchen with a plate of cut-up fruit. She blew right past me like I wasn't even there and forced the plate into Evelyn's hands.
"Here, eat up," she said. "I bought these just for you. See the grapes? They're imported. Cost 100 dollars a pound, you know."
Then, she whipped her head around and glared at me.
"What are you still doing here? You're a damn eyesore," she spat. "Go pack your things and get lost. We don't need you bringing your bad luck to the shelter."
I just nodded and went to my room without a word.
The door clicked shut, blocking out the fake, sickening laughter from the living room.
With a blank face, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop.
The cold glow of the screen lit up my face, which was terrifyingly calm.
In my previous life, I'd forced a smile and given in just like that. I quietly packed up all my rescue gear and headed out alone into the dark, stormy night.
I had been willing to give up my spot—my chance to live—because I thought they were my family.
Back then, I was trying to save a kid when the floodwaters smashed me up against the shelter window.
My family stood on the other side of the glass, safe in the bright light.
They saw me, but they didn't look relieved. They looked horrified. They looked away and scurried deeper into the shelter like I was some piece of trash.
Right before I passed out, I saw a notification from the family group chat. My mom had just posted a photo of them all raising their glasses for a toast.
Under it, she wrote a caption: [Finally, peace and quiet. The whole family, all together for Thanksgiving.]
In the picture, they were all smiling, radiant. And right outside their window, the flood was tearing me to pieces.
That was when I realized I was never really one of them. I was just something they used to get their comfortable life.
Now that I was back, there was no way in hell I would sacrifice myself for those monsters again.
I opened my browser and went to the shelter's encrypted booking site.
The Arcadia Shelter page loaded, showing the four spots registered to my family.
I tapped the touchpad, and the "Cancel Reservation" button popped up.
A warning flashed on the screen: [Hurricane Neptune is forecast to be a record-breaking superstorm. All cancellations are final and can not be reversed.]
Without a second thought, I just smashed that confirm button.
Then I opened a new tab and typed in a much longer, more complex password.
A new page loaded, displaying a single, private reservation.
It read: [Welcome, Administrator Ms. Charlotte Walsh. Your private suite in Fortress One is confirmed. We await your arrival.]
Once it was all done, I slumped back in my chair and let out a huge sigh of relief.
In my previous life, I'd traded away my own spot in Fortress One for four standard slots in another shelter, just so my family could live.
It never even occurred to me that they'd actually ditch me at the very end.
So, I was done with the whole "family" thing this time.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Michael.
Michael: [Hey, that bag you bought on your last trip? Evelyn used it once and liked it. Give it to me. She needs something for her makeup at the shelter and says it's perfect.]
I stared at the text and let out a cold, silent laugh.
That was Michael, always bleeding me dry like he owned me.
I got up and grabbed the bag from my closet. It was practically brand new.
Then, I walked over to the window and yanked it open.
Down below was the building's trash area, with a few giant dumpsters just sitting there, stinking.
Without any hesitation, I chucked the bag out the window.
The white bag sailed through the air in a perfect curve. It landed with a gross thud right in a dumpster overflowing with rotting vegetables and nasty leftovers.
It wouldn't take long for it to dissolve into the nasty gunk, becoming just another piece of reeking trash.
I was done dealing with things that were already filthy. My "family" was no exception—they were just another pile of garbage I'd left behind.