The first drop of rain hit my bedroom window with a soft tap, and I jolted awake, my chest heaving like I'd just run a marathon, cold sweat soaking through the neckline of my pajamas.
The dim yellow light of the bedroom lamp flickered, casting shaky shadows on the peeling walls of this cramped Chicago rental apartment—walls that felt like a cage, even now, when I knew I was free from the hell I'd endured.
For a split second, I wasn't here; I was back there, trapped in that flooded basement on the outskirts of the city, the stench of mold and rot clogging my nose, cold water seeping into my bones until I couldn't feel my fingers or toes.
And there they were—Ethan and Sarah, standing at the top of the basement stairs, out of reach of the rising water, holding up Grandma's jade pendant.
The pendant glowed faintly with a warm light, the same light that had comforted me every night since Grandma gave it to me on her deathbed, six months before the world ended.
She'd pressed it into my trembling hand, her voice weak but firm, whispering that it would "keep me safe when the sky breaks."
I'd never understood what she meant, not until that moment—when the sky had indeed broken, and the two people I loved most had become my executioners.
"Rosie, you're such a fool,"
Sarah said, her voice sickeningly sweet, the same tone she used when she'd pretend to commiserate with me about missing my family, when she'd accept my designer bags and expensive dinners like they were nothing more than cheap trinkets.
She leaned against Ethan's shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes glinting with disdain and greed.
"Did you really think Ethan loved you?"
"That he'd stay with you, even when you cut off your family, even when you gave up your trust fund to live in this dump with him?"
"You're so naive—so wrapped up in your little love bubble that you never noticed we've been together for months. We've been laughing at you this whole time."
Ethan smirked, his blue eyes—once my favorite color, the color I'd painted my nails for, the color I'd daydreamed about when I thought of our future—cold as ice, no trace of the gentle, devoted man he'd pretended to be for a year.
He reached out and tucked a strand of Sarah's hair behind her ear, his touch tender, a touch he'd never given me unless there was someone watching.
"The space inside this thing? It's a goldmine, baby,"
he said, tapping the pendant with his finger, his voice cruel.
"Infinite storage, no weight, no limits. Too bad you were too busy mooning over me, too busy being my little lapdog, to figure out how to use it. All that Carter family money, all that privilege, and you wasted it on us."
"Thanks for keeping the pendant safe for us, though. It'll be way more useful in our hands."
I screamed at them, begged them to help me, to give back the pendant—to give back the last piece of my family.
But they just laughed, their laughter echoing off the basement walls, mixing with the sound of the rising water.
Ethan grabbed Sarah's hand, and they turned to leave, slamming the basement door shut behind them. The sound of the door slamming was a death knell, and I watched in horror as the water crept higher and higher—up my legs, my chest, my chin, until it filled my mouth and nose.
I could still see the pendant's warm glow fading as they walked away, could still hear their mocking words.
I drowned knowing that the man I'd planned to marry, the man I'd turned my back on my family for, and the best friend I'd trusted with every secret had betrayed me.
They'd used me for my money, my status, and my grandmother's legacy—and then they'd murdered me without a second thought.
Their betrayal hurt more than the cold water filling my lungs, more than the darkness closing in around me.
I jolted again, gasping for air, and this time, I was back in the present—in this cramped 600-square-foot studio in Chicago, the rain tapping louder against the window, the heater creaking softly in the corner.
My hand flew to my neck, and there it was—Grandma's jade pendant, cool against my skin, its intricate carvings digging slightly into my collarbone. It was still mine.
They hadn't taken it yet.
I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers shaking, and unlocked it.
The date stared back at me: March 15th, 3:17 AM.
Three months.
I had three whole months before the endless rain started, before the world descended into chaos, before Ethan and Sarah could betray me again.
I'm not just alive—I'm reborn. And this time, I won't be a fool. This time, I'll be ready. This time, they'll pay.
My heavy breathing and the faint whimper I'd let out in my panic must have been too loud—suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door of my tiny bedroom, followed by Sarah's sickeningly sweet voice, laced with fake concern.
"Rosie?
"Are you okay? I heard you wake up screaming… did you have a bad dream?"
I froze, my fingers tightening around the jade pendant until its edges dug into my palm, a sharp pain that grounded me, reminding me to stay in character. I quickly wiped the cold sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, ruffled my hair to make it look messy, and forced a shaky, vulnerable tone into my voice.
"Y-yeah… just a nightmare," I mumbled, pulling the thin blanket up to my chin, hunched over like a scared child. The door creaked open slowly, and Sarah stepped in, wearing a baggy sweatshirt that I'd bought her last month (a cheap one, to fit my "cash-strapped" act), her eyes darting around the room subtly—checking to see if I was hiding anything, if I was onto her. She sat down on the edge of my bed, her hand reaching out to pat my shoulder lightly, a touch that made my skin crawl, memories of her standing above me in the flooded basement flashing through my mind.
"Aww, baby, it's okay," she cooed, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, the same gentle gesture Ethan had given her in my memories. I forced myself not to flinch, to lean into her touch slightly, to let my lower lip tremble. "It was just a dream, right? Nothing real. I'm here, Ethan's here… we won't let anything happen to you." I nodded, blinking hard to fake tears, my gaze dropping to my lap so she wouldn't see the hatred burning in my eyes—the same hatred that had drowned me last time, now fueling my resolve. I reached up and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, pretending to find comfort in her presence.
"Thanks, Sarah,"
I whispered, my voice cracking, still squeezing her hand, my thumb brushing over her knuckles in a fake, comforting motion—motion that made me want to gag.
"You're the best friend I could ever ask for." She smiled, that fake, sugary smile that had fooled me for so long, and squeezed my hand back.
"Of course, Rosie. What are friends for? Now go back to sleep, okay? I'll be right outside if you need me."
She stood up, patted my head one last time, and turned to leave, closing the door softly behind her. As soon as her footsteps faded, my smile dropped instantly, wiping my hand roughly on the blanket as if cleansing it of her taint.
I stared at the closed door, my jaw clamped so tight my teeth throbbed, my hand flying back to the jade pendant—now stained with the tiny pinprick of my blood—its warmth seeping into my skin, a silent, bloodied promise of revenge.
She thought she was comforting a vulnerable fool. Little did she know, she was talking to her executioner.