Chapter 4

I made up an excuse about feeling sick and moved into the guest room, throwing myself completely into finishing the shelter.

By the third day, the temperature jumped from over 86°F to a blistering 104°F.

It was July, the middle of summer, so no one thought much of it.

I just ignored Sandra, who strutted in and out of the master bedroom like she owned it.

But of course, she had to show off. She demanded Brian set up a whole ice cream station for her at home.

With the scorching heat, the government shut down all outdoor jobs. Even food delivery drivers disappeared from the streets.

If one wanted anything, they had to step out into the blazing sun and get it themselves.

"Honey, I'm swamped with work. Can you go out and grab some for us?" Brian asked, acting busy.

He kept his head down, pretending to work, but kept sneaking glances at me from under his brows.

He was clearly trying to stir up drama between me and Sandra, just to show off his charm.

But I wasn't about to play into his hands.

I put on my most obedient act, went out, and came back empty-handed.

Sandra pouted, "I'm your guest, you know. Can't you even do this little thing for me?"

I put on my best pitiful act, whining, "It's scorching out there, and even bottled water is sold out. If you want something cold, you have to buy from scalpers. They're charging 30 dollars for a popsicle! Might as well just mix some sugar with water. It's way cheaper. And honestly, I'm totally broke."

Then I turned to Brian, putting on my most innocent face. "Honey, where did all the money in our account go?"

Brian was visibly anxious, afraid I'd keep pressing and catch him red-handed for siphoning off our savings.

He hurriedly handed me 300 dollars, saying, "I needed the money to keep my business running, so I dipped into our savings. Since Sandra wants some ice cream, just grab ten for her."

I accepted the cash with a cheerful grin, playing along.

Gotta admit, Sandra really knew how to enjoy the good life.

Down in the basement, I set up a luxury ice cream spread—fresh fruit, chocolate sauce, and premium Häagen-Dazs, all laid out in style.

I kicked back and feasted, enjoying every single bite.

Damn, that was good.

Then I grabbed a few of the cheapest popsicles and tossed them to Sandra, just to get her off my back.

She muttered, "Useless."

I shot right back, "If you don't like it, go buy your own."

Sandra glanced at the cracked, sun-baked concrete outside, just huffed and kept quiet.

She demanded gourmet food every single meal.

So I scraped together whatever sad leftovers we had, making a meal that looked closer to slop than food.

Sandra kept picking at her food, tossing half of it aside, and before I knew it, our stash was wiped out.

*****

By the fourth day, the temperature had shot up to 122°F.

Even with the AC blasting nonstop, the front door handle was still so hot that it could burn one's hand.

The tap water was practically steaming when it came out.

The fridge was almost empty—just a few sad veggies and fruits left.

On the news, they said transportation had broken down almost everywhere. Airport runways had warped, grounding all flights. Car engines kept overheating and failing. Food shipments were spoiling before they could be delivered.

Experts warned that the drought would wipe out this year's harvest entirely.

It looked like the world would be facing a food crisis for the next three years.

Meanwhile, Brian and Sandra were too busy tangled up in bed, totally oblivious to what was happening outside.

After their little romp, Sandra, drenched in sweat, said she needed an ice bath.

But just as she was filling up the tub, the power went out.

Both the TV and her phone lit up at the same time with an emergency alert: [Extreme heat has caused a widespread power grid failure. City crews are attempting repairs. Please remain calm. The world is currently experiencing a historic, once-in-a-millennium heatwave. Heatstroke deaths have surpassed 10,000. Everyone, please stay indoors and find shelter nearby.]

I peeked into the fridge—empty.

"Oh my god, there's nothing left to eat! Brian, how about you go out and grab us something?" I asked, playing the damsel in distress.

Brian slammed his laptop shut and started drumming his fingers impatiently on the table. "That's your job. You've been sitting around all day. Figure it out yourself."

I put on my sweetest smile and linked arms with Sandra. "Brian's right. It's boiling out there. Sandra, why don't you come with me?"

But she practically threw me out the door with all her strength.

A wave of scorching heat hit me the second I stepped outside.