Chapter 1

I saw it all on an earthquake rescue livestream—my husband, Brian Miller, and my best friend, Sandra Young, hardly wearing a thing.

Before I could call them out, Brian used the earthquake as an excuse to bring her home.

I was ready to confront them with proof, but when I tried, Sandra, embarrassed and furious, shoved me down the stairs.

While I was lying there, broken and helpless, Brian carried me outside and dumped me in the ruins. He tried to make it look like I'd died in the quake.

No one realized the earthquake was just the beginning. A scorching apocalypse was coming next. And there I was, trapped and helpless, slowly burning to death beneath the ruins.

But then I opened my eyes. And I was back—one day before the earthquake.

This time, I'd be lounging in the AC, sipping on cold drinks, and watching from the window as the sun turns them to ash.

*****

"Sorry, honey. A work trip came up. I'll have to miss our anniversary tomorrow. I'll make it up to you when I get back," Brian said, his voice soft and full of affection.

He gently stroked my face, his touch warm.

But even in the summer heat, the gesture sent a cold shiver through me.

He didn't notice anything was off and kept talking, "I found a job for Sandra. Don't worry. I'll look after her."

Those familiar words brought back a flood of painful memories.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from Sandra: [Thanks, Linda. Once I make it big, I'll definitely pay you both back.]

A bitter smile touched my lips. Pay us back? By sleeping with him?

In my previous life, Sandra lost her job. She was broke and desperate.

I asked Brian to help. He owned a small company.

I didn't expect him to make her his personal assistant. They were together constantly.

I just stumbled onto their affair by chance.

During a live earthquake rescue stream, I saw the two of them barely covered by the same bath towel.

Sandra faced the camera, awkwardly trying to hide the red marks on her collarbone, but her efforts only made them more obvious.

Then she tilted her head and buried it in Brian's neck, perfectly covering up the pink lipstick stains on his skin.

In the background, other survivors couldn't stop saying how perfect they looked together, even jokingly calling them the "Rubble Lovers."

Right after, Brian used the disaster as a cover to bring Sandra into our house.

I called them out with hard evidence, showing everyone what they really were.

But Sandra, humiliated and furious, shoved me down the stairs. I hit the floor, broken and unable to move.

Without a second thought, Brian helped her drag my helpless body out and dump it into the ruins, leaving me there to die.

The rubble trapped me inside, but nothing could keep the heat out.

The world was turning into a furnace. The scorching apocalypse had just begun.

With my spine shattered, I couldn't move at all. No way could I survive when the temperature shot up to 158°F. My arms and legs were practically roasted, and heatstroke and dehydration finished me off.

Maybe even God took pity on me, giving me a second chance at life.

Now, just five days left until the heatwave apocalypse.

And the earthquake? That was just the prelude. The real end starts tomorrow.

I cranked the AC down another five degrees.

Brian shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

But inside, I was burning up with rage.

This time, I was going to make them taste every bit of the pain and torment I'd gone through last time.