By Monday morning, Jules had decided that the greatest danger of having sixty times more time than everyone else was the temptation to use every minute of it.
She had gone to bed the previous night with a reasonable plan: wake up, prepare breakfast, check on the garden, and spend the afternoon organizing the supplies arriving for her cottage. Somewhere between brushing her teeth and opening her gardening notebook, that plan had expanded to include installing a chicken enclosure, preparing another planting bed, and researching whether a small greenhouse would be useful inside the dimension.
She stared at the growing list, then crossed out everything except the first three tasks.
Her shoulders were finally beginning to feel normal again, and she needed them functioning properly. Injuring herself over something as ordinary as gardening would be ridiculous, particularly when she had access to equipment that could make the work easier.
She had survived situations where a sprained ankle could mean death. She wasn't about to create unnecessary problems for herself while the world was still peaceful.
Downstairs, the kitchen was already occupied. Serina stood near the coffee machine, reviewing something on her phone, while Kaelith sat at the table with his stuffed rabbit propped beside his cereal bowl.
"Morning," Jules greeted them.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Serina looked up. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. I actually slept."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Kaelith raised his spoon. "Bunny hungry."
Jules glanced at the rabbit. "What does Bunny want?"
"Pancakes."
"Bunny had pancakes yesterday."
"He hungry again."
"That makes two of us."
Kaelith giggled as Jules opened the refrigerator. She had prepared several breakfast portions the previous evening and placed them in timeless storage, but she still preferred cooking something fresh when everyone was home. This morning, she settled on eggs, toast, and fruit, with a smaller pancake for Kaelith after he insisted his rabbit couldn't possibly survive on cereal alone.
Serina watched her daughter move around the kitchen. Jules looked less exhausted than she had the day before, although there was still a faint stiffness in the way she reached for things above shoulder height.
"Are you planning to spend the whole day gardening again?" she asked.
"No. I've got some deliveries coming, and I want to organize the cottage."
"Good. You need a change of activity."
"Moving furniture isn't exactly resting, Mom."
"Then perhaps you should let someone else move it."
Jules smiled faintly as she cracked another egg into the pan. She didn't need anyone to move her furniture into storage, and most of what she'd ordered was ready-made. The only real work would be arranging it inside the cottage.
Still, she understood why her mother was concerned. Serina could see the physical consequences of her work, but not the reasoning behind it. Jules couldn't explain how difficult it was to sit comfortably in a house filled with food and electricity when she remembered entire winters spent wondering whether the next meal would be her last.
"It's nothing I can't handle," she replied.
Serina didn't look entirely convinced, but she allowed the subject to drop.
By the time the rest of the family joined them, breakfast had become its usual noisy affair. Jorin complained that Daric had used his charger without asking, Daric insisted he'd only borrowed it because Jorin had taken his, and Tavian attempted to convince Amira that rabbits preferred scrambled eggs.
Kaelith immediately offered his stuffed rabbit a spoonful.
Jules intercepted it before the eggs reached the toy's face.
"Bunny can have pretend eggs."
Kaelith considered this, then held out the empty spoon.
"Here, Bunny."
Tavian nodded approvingly. "Excellent service."
Across the table, Selina shook her head at her twin. "Please don't encourage him."
"I'm supporting his hospitality skills."
"You're supporting a stuffed rabbit."
"Everybody needs somebody."
Jules laughed as she placed another plate on the table. She enjoyed the familiar arguments and ridiculous conversations, but even while listening, part of her attention remained on the day's schedule.
She needed to confirm her deliveries, inspect the garden, and check the equipment she'd ordered. The dimension gave her an extraordinary advantage, but that advantage would mean very little if she failed to prepare it properly.
The third warehouse was larger than Kaelen had expected.
It stood in a commercial district on the outskirts of Clearwater, with a broad paved loading area and enough clearance for heavy vehicles to maneuver without blocking the entrance. Inside, the main storage floor stretched between rows of steel support columns, while a smaller section of offices occupied the front of the building.
Lira walked slowly along one wall, studying the condition of the concrete floor and the overhead lighting. Daric followed with a measuring device, while Jorin recorded the dimensions in their shared spreadsheet.
Adrian stood beside Kaelen near the loading dock.
"The owner is willing to offer a three-year lease," he explained. "The building was previously used for furniture distribution, so the loading equipment is already installed."
"Any history of flooding?"
"Nothing reported in the inspection records. The drainage system was serviced earlier this year, but I've arranged for an independent inspection before we sign."
Kaelen nodded. He wasn't particularly concerned about the building's suitability several years from now, but the family's purchases would be arriving over the coming weeks, and he wanted everything protected until it could be moved elsewhere.
Lira approached them with her notes.
"The layout is workable. We can dedicate one section to beds and mattresses, another to clothing and textiles, and keep the larger equipment closer to the loading dock. I'd recommend installing additional shelving along the eastern wall, but we shouldn't stack mattresses directly against it."
"Moisture?" Kaelen asked.
"Among other things. We need airflow, protective wrapping, and a clear inspection route. Whatever your company intends to do with this inventory, it'll be much easier if we can locate and move things without unpacking half the building."
Daric looked up from his measurements. "There's enough room for the folding beds and cots without stacking them too high."
"And the air mattresses?" Jorin asked.
"Those can stay boxed," Lira replied. "Provided we track the pumps and repair kits separately."
Jorin entered another note.
Kaelen glanced toward the loading entrance. "What about the boats?"
Lira looked at him with mild amusement. "You're planning to store boats here too?"
"We're considering expanding into marine equipment," Kaelen answered smoothly.
Adrian, who had been reviewing the property's specifications, nodded. He'd handled enough unusual business acquisitions for Kaelen over the years that another expansion didn't particularly surprise him.
Lira studied the available floor space. "Well, that depends on their dimensions and how they're transported. Smaller craft on trailers might fit along the rear section, but anything larger should have a separate covered area. You'll also need to account for the trailers themselves."
Adrian checked his tablet. "The marine suppliers sent their preliminary recommendations this morning. One has an enclosed utility boat available for inspection, and another can source a shallow-draft workboat with a reinforced hull. Neither is ready for immediate delivery."
"Good," Kaelen said. "I'd rather choose the right equipment than rush into purchasing something unsuitable."
Jorin glanced up. "Does Jules know what kind of boat she wants?"
"Something sturdy enough to carry people and supplies," Kaelen replied. "Preferably with an enclosed cabin."
"Then we should check the draft," Daric said. "If the streets flood, there might not be enough clearance everywhere."
The words left his mouth before he considered who was standing nearby.
Lira turned toward him.
"The streets?"
Daric paused.
Jorin stopped typing.
For a brief moment, the warehouse seemed unusually quiet.
"During flooding," Daric clarified. "You know, if the roads get flooded."
Lira raised an eyebrow. "Are you boys planning some kind of disaster-relief operation?"
Kaelen answered before either twin could elaborate.
"We've discussed several possible applications for the equipment. Emergency transport is one of them."
"That makes sense," Lira replied. "In that case, submerged obstacles would be a concern. But you should consult someone experienced with flood-response vessels before purchasing anything."
Daric nodded, grateful that she hadn't pursued the subject further.
Once Lira returned to examining the storage layout, Jorin leaned toward his brother.
"Nice one," he muttered.
"Shut up."
"You might as well have brought a map."
Daric gave him a warning look, and Jorin wisely returned to his spreadsheet.
Kaelen watched the exchange without commenting. He would speak to the boys later about being careful with what they revealed, but he was pleased that Daric had thought about the practical limitations of navigating flooded streets.
They were beginning to understand that purchasing equipment was only one part of preparing to survive.
"Let's proceed with the inspection," Kaelen told Adrian. "If everything checks out, we'll take it."
Jules's first furniture delivery arrived shortly before noon.
She had ordered a bed frame, mattress, small dining table, two chairs, a couch, and several shelving units. Most of the furniture came fully assembled, while the larger pieces were packaged for easier transportation.
The delivery workers carried everything into the ground-floor sitting room she'd cleared for the purpose. One of them glanced around at the growing collection of furniture.
"Are you renovating?"
"Something like that," Jules replied.
Once they had finished, she signed the delivery receipt and waited until their truck had disappeared down the driveway before inspecting the purchases.
Everything appeared to be accounted for.
Jules reviewed the receipt one final time, then focused on the furniture.
With a single thought, the bed frame, mattress, couch, table, chairs, and shelving units vanished into her dimensional storage.
The room was empty again.
She had long since stopped finding the process remarkable. In previous lives, she'd spent countless hours transporting supplies under dangerous conditions, often risking her life for things as ordinary as bottled water or medicine. Being able to store an entire room's worth of furniture without lifting a finger was convenient, but convenience didn't make her careless.
She still inspected her purchases and maintained records. Having unlimited storage wouldn't help if she couldn't remember what she'd put inside it.
After confirming that everything had transferred successfully, she returned upstairs and locked her bedroom door.
A moment later, she entered the dimension.
The familiar scent of grass and damp earth greeted her. Sunlight poured through the cottage windows, illuminating the empty living room and the kitchen beyond it.
Jules retrieved the furniture from storage and began arranging it.
She placed the bed frame and mattress in the bedroom, positioning them against the wall opposite the window. The small dining table went near the kitchen, where she could look out toward the stream while eating or reviewing her notes.
The couch fit comfortably against the living-room wall, and the shelving units provided enough space for her books, notebooks, and smaller supplies.
She adjusted the furniture several times before settling on a layout she liked.
When she finally stepped back to examine the room, the cottage looked noticeably different.
It was still sparsely furnished, but it no longer resembled an empty model home. There was a place to sit, a table for meals, and shelves waiting to be filled.
More importantly, she now had a comfortable place to sleep during extended stays.
Jules sat on the edge of the mattress and tested its firmness. It was comfortable enough, although she made a mental note to purchase additional bedding and pillows.
She had spent enough nights sleeping on concrete floors, inside abandoned vehicles, and beneath makeshift shelters to appreciate a proper bed.
In the apocalypse, comfort was often dismissed as a luxury. Jules had learned otherwise. A person who couldn't sleep properly eventually made mistakes, and mistakes could get people killed.
Rest wasn't an indulgence. It was maintenance.
After arranging the last of the furniture, she opened her notebook and turned to the section dedicated to livestock.
Her original plan had involved building a chicken enclosure herself, but she'd abandoned that idea after considering the time and effort required. There was no reason to construct something from scratch when she could purchase a properly designed enclosure.
She had already found several prefabricated chicken coops with enclosed runs, along with modular fencing panels that could be installed around a larger area.
She reviewed the dimensions once more before placing the order.
The enclosure needed to be secure, easy to clean, and large enough to accommodate the chickens she intended to raise. She also wanted room for expansion, since she had no idea how animal reproduction might be affected by the dimension's accelerated passage of time.
That was another variable she would need to observe carefully.
She hadn't purchased any animals yet. Until she understood the environment better, introducing livestock would be an unnecessary risk.
Jules added feed containers, automatic waterers, cleaning supplies, and spare enclosure components to her shopping list.
Then she headed outside to inspect the garden.
In Selina's bedroom, the first episode of Don't Die Today was beginning to resemble an actual video.
Tavian had recorded several narration attempts, and Selina was choosing between them while adjusting the animation. The cartoon girl now had a name—Penny—and an unfortunate tendency to pack entirely too much into her emergency backpack.
"Play the second one," Tavian said.
Selina clicked the audio file.
His voice filled the room.
"Congratulations! You've packed enough canned food to survive three months. Unfortunately, you forgot a can opener."
The animation showed Penny staring at a mountain of cans before slowly looking toward the camera.
Tavian laughed. "That's the one."
"You sound too happy about her suffering."
"It's educational suffering."
Selina replayed the scene, checking whether the character's expression matched the narration. She had spent the previous evening refining the timing, and the result was much smoother than her first attempt.
"I still think we should add something about water," she said.
"We already have the water bottle scene."
"That's about packing water. I mean safe drinking water."
Tavian leaned against the side of the bed. "Like not drinking random floodwater?"
"Exactly."
He considered that for a moment. "We could make Penny find a puddle and think it's a free drink."
Selina grimaced. "That's disgusting."
"Which is why she shouldn't drink it."
She opened her notebook and began sketching another scene. Penny stood beside a suspicious-looking puddle, holding an empty bottle while a warning symbol appeared above her head.
They could explain that floodwater might contain sewage, chemicals, and other contaminants. It was ordinary emergency advice, the kind anyone could find in a preparedness guide, but presenting it through Penny's mistakes made the information easier to remember.
"Don't make it too scary," Tavian said after watching her draw a particularly unpleasant puddle.
Selina looked up. "You just suggested she drink it."
"I suggested she think about drinking it. Big difference."
She laughed and erased part of the sketch.
Neither twin considered telling their family about the project. They were enjoying having something that belonged entirely to them, especially when so much of their lives had suddenly become centered on warehouses, emergency supplies, and preparations they barely understood.
Selina wanted to finish the video before anyone could offer suggestions or turn it into another family assignment.
Tavian, meanwhile, had already begun planning a second episode.
By late afternoon, Jules had finished arranging the cottage furniture and returned to the garden.
The lettuce seedlings had grown noticeably since her previous visit. Several bean plants had developed stronger stems, and the tomato trays showed their first signs of germination. She examined each section carefully, recording the changes before checking the moisture in the soil.
The results were encouraging, but she knew better than to assume every crop would grow equally well.
She had spent enough time watching farming tutorials to understand that successful planting was only the beginning. The seedlings would need continued care, and she'd have to learn how to recognize problems before they became serious.
She was inspecting the bean plants when she noticed something unusual.
One of the leaves was considerably larger than she expected.
Jules crouched beside it and compared the plant with a photograph in her gardening book. The shape was familiar, but the growth seemed unusually vigorous for such a young seedling.
She checked another plant, then another, and discovered similar changes across the row.
The soil was exceptionally fertile, and the plants appeared healthy, but she couldn't determine whether the unusual growth came from the soil, the dimension itself, or simply the amount of time that had passed.
She resisted the urge to draw conclusions.
Instead, she recorded the measurements and marked the plants she wanted to monitor.
If the crops continued growing at this rate, she would have more than enough work harvesting them. Fortunately, dimensional storage would allow her to keep the produce fresh without worrying about spoilage, but she still needed to learn how to grow it properly.
The possibility of unusually large harvests was encouraging. Food production had been one of the greatest challenges in her previous lives, particularly after the environment began changing and ordinary farmland became increasingly unreliable.
She remembered settlements where people had fought over bags of grain and children had grown accustomed to going hungry. She remembered how quickly desperation could turn an otherwise reasonable person into a threat.
Those memories were part of the reason she refused to depend entirely on purchased supplies.
Warehouses could be emptied. Vehicles could break down. Roads could become impassable, and even the strongest shelter would eventually face problems if its inhabitants couldn't produce anything for themselves.
A renewable food supply was worth more than a mountain of canned goods.
Jules stood and brushed the soil from her knees.
Her shoulders had begun aching again, but she didn't reach for another tool. She had already accomplished what she'd intended, and pushing herself further would serve no useful purpose.
Instead, she returned to the cottage, prepared a simple meal, and sat at her new dining table with her notebook open beside her plate.
After eating, she reviewed the next several days of work. The prefabricated chicken enclosure would arrive later in the week, and she still needed to select an appropriate location for it. She wanted the animals close enough to the cottage for convenient care but far enough away to avoid unpleasant odors and sanitation problems.
She also needed to test the irrigation equipment once it arrived.
The list continued growing, but Jules wasn't particularly troubled by that. She was accustomed to managing multiple problems at once, and unlike the years she'd spent surviving the apocalypse, she currently had access to functioning businesses, transportation networks, and reliable suppliers.
It would be foolish not to use those advantages while they remained available.
Eventually, she closed her notebook and stretched out on the couch.
She intended to rest for a short while.
When she woke, nearly two hours had passed inside the dimension.
Outside, that meant only a couple of minutes.
Jules sat up, checked the time, and added another note to her schedule. She would need to account for the accelerated passage of time when planning extended stays, particularly if she began spending several days inside at once.
Her body still experienced those hours, even if the outside world barely noticed her absence.
She had no intention of repeating the mistake of treating additional time as unlimited energy.
Serina was in the hallway when Jules emerged from her bedroom.
Her mother had been carrying a basket of folded laundry toward the bedrooms, but she stopped when she saw Jules step out.
"There you are."
Jules smiled. "Hi, Mom."
"I was about to ask whether you wanted to help me with dinner."
"Of course. What are we making?"
"I was thinking chicken and rice, unless you had something else planned."
"That sounds good."
Serina studied her daughter as they walked toward the stairs. Jules looked more rested than she had that morning, although Serina couldn't remember hearing her leave the bedroom all afternoon.
"Did you get everything organized?"
"Most of it. The cottage actually looks like somewhere a person could live now."
"That's good." Serina shifted the laundry basket against her hip. "You've been spending quite a lot of time working on it."
"I know. There's just so much I need to do."
"And you don't have to finish all of it in one day."
Jules glanced toward her mother.
Serina's expression was gentle, but there was a firmness beneath it that Jules recognized.
"I know," she repeated.
She wasn't lying. Jules understood that the preparations couldn't be completed in a single day, and she had no intention of destroying her health trying.
But there was a difference between understanding the need for rest and believing she could afford to waste time.
In her previous lives, the consequences of poor preparation had rarely been immediate. Sometimes the mistake didn't reveal itself until weeks later, when the supplies ran out or a supposedly secure location became impossible to defend.
By then, it was often too late to correct.
That knowledge had become part of how she thought. She didn't need to remind herself to plan for contingencies any more than she needed to remind herself to breathe.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, where Kaelith was sitting on the floor with several toy cars arranged in a line.
He looked up as they approached.
"Jules! Race?"
"After dinner," she promised.
He considered the answer before pushing one of the cars toward her foot.
"Fast car."
Jules crouched and rolled it back to him. "Very fast."
Kaelith laughed and sent it racing across the floor.
Serina watched the exchange, then continued toward the kitchen.
She was glad Jules still found time to smile and joke with her siblings, but the growing pattern of long afternoons behind a closed bedroom door troubled her.
Her daughter had always been responsible, sometimes more than Serina thought was necessary. Recently, however, that responsibility seemed to have become something heavier.
Jules rarely sat down without finding another task to complete. Even during meals, Serina occasionally caught her staring into the distance with an expression that seemed entirely out of place on an eighteen-year-old.
She wasn't ready to confront her daughter about it. Jules had been carrying the burden of knowing about the coming catastrophe, and Serina couldn't begin to imagine how frightening that knowledge must be.
Still, she intended to pay closer attention.
That evening, Kaelen gathered everyone in the living room for a brief update.
The third warehouse had passed its preliminary inspection, although the final lease documents still needed review. The first generator shipment was expected later in the week, and the supplier had confirmed that the initial order of beds and mattresses could be delivered in stages once the new facility was ready.
"The recreational vehicles are still scheduled for Friday," he explained. "The larger utility trucks will arrive separately, and Adrian is arranging inspections for the boats before we commit to purchasing them."
Jules nodded, pleased that the preparations were progressing.
"What about the water tanks?" she asked.
"Delivered and inspected. Lira and the boys have them recorded in the inventory system."
Jorin looked up from his phone. "Every single one."
Daric smirked. "After you entered the wrong quantity."
"I corrected it."
"Because I noticed."
"Because you wouldn't stop looking over my shoulder."
Kaelen raised a hand before the argument could continue.
"The important thing is that the records are accurate."
Serina smiled. "I think we've heard that phrase several times this week."
"Because it's important," Kaelen replied.
Amira, who had been listening quietly, raised her hand.
Kaelen looked at her. "Yes?"
"When are we getting the boats?"
"We haven't bought them yet, sweetheart."
"But when we do, can I name one?"
Jorin immediately sat forward. "Absolutely not. She's going to call it something ridiculous."
Amira frowned. "I was going to call it Princess."
"See?"
"That's a perfectly good name," Serina said.
Tavian grinned. "We should name the other one Captain Disaster."
Selina nearly choked on her water.
Jules glanced at her. "You okay?"
Selina nodded quickly, covering her mouth while Tavian looked away with an expression of exaggerated innocence.
"Fine," she managed.
Nobody thought much of it, and the conversation moved on to the next delivery.
Jules listened as her father explained the remaining purchases and the storage arrangements being finalized. There were still countless things to prepare, but the family was making steady progress.
She was satisfied with the results, although she knew better than to mistake progress for security.
Their warehouses were filling, their transportation plans were developing, and the dimension's farmland was beginning to produce results. Yet none of those preparations would eliminate the dangers ahead.
Even the people they might eventually shelter could become liabilities if they weren't chosen carefully.
Jules had learned long ago that desperation revealed sides of people they often concealed during peaceful times. Some became courageous and generous. Others became selfish, violent, or willing to sacrifice strangers for the smallest advantage.
She had encountered both kinds.
That was why she intended to be selective about who entered their future base.
She wasn't preparing a sanctuary for everyone who happened to ask for help. Her family's safety came first, and anyone allowed inside would need to contribute to the community rather than endanger it.
Warning the public was a different matter.
The more people who survived the initial catastrophe, the fewer bodies there would be to swell the zombie population. More survivors also meant more people capable of maintaining infrastructure, producing food, and eventually rebuilding.
Children and younger people were especially vulnerable. Many wouldn't have the resources or independence to prepare properly, and Jules knew how quickly they could become casualties when adults failed to protect them.
She wanted to reduce those losses where she could.
But she had no illusions about saving everyone.
The apocalypse had stripped her of that kind of optimism long ago.
After the family finished discussing the deliveries, everyone gradually returned to their own activities.
Kaelen went to his office to review a message from Adrian, while Daric and Jorin resumed arguing over a spreadsheet they had apparently decided needed further improvement.
Selina and Tavian disappeared upstairs together, exchanging the kind of conspiratorial looks that usually meant they were planning something.
Amira settled on the living-room carpet with Kaelith, who had arranged his toy cars into another elaborate line.
Jules checked the time.
She had several things she wanted to review before bed, including the irrigation equipment she'd ordered and the layout of the future chicken enclosure.
She stood and headed toward the stairs.
"Jules!"
Kaelith looked up from the carpet, holding a red toy car in his hand.
"Race?"
Jules paused. She had promised him earlier, but she'd forgotten about it while reviewing the family's preparations.
"Not tonight, sweetheart. I have something to finish."
His face fell slightly.
"Tomorrow?"
Jules hesitated before nodding. "Tomorrow."
Kaelith looked down at his car and pushed it slowly across the carpet.
Amira glanced toward her older sister.
"You're always working."
Jules gave her a small smile. "Someone has to make sure everything gets done."
"But Dad and everyone else are working too."
"I know."
She wasn't annoyed by the observation. Amira was eight, and from her perspective, the adults and older siblings had suddenly become obsessed with buying things and discussing warehouses.
Jules understood why it seemed strange.
"Have fun with Kaelith, okay?" she said.
Amira nodded, although she didn't look particularly satisfied.
Jules continued upstairs.
From the living-room doorway, Serina had watched the entire exchange.
She looked toward Kaelith, who was now attempting to race two cars by himself while Amira provided an enthusiastic commentary.
"Mommy, you race?" he asked when he noticed her.
"Of course, sweetheart."
Serina lowered herself onto the carpet and accepted the blue car he offered her.
As Kaelith explained that the red car was the fastest because it had bigger wheels, Serina found herself thinking about Jules.
Her daughter had always been close to her younger siblings. She used to spend entire afternoons entertaining them, helping Amira with activities, or letting Kaelith follow her around the kitchen.
Recently, those moments had become shorter.
There was always another task waiting.
Another delivery to organize.
Another list to review.
Serina understood that the coming catastrophe had changed their priorities, but she was beginning to worry about how completely it had consumed her daughter.
What troubled her most was that Jules didn't seem to notice anything unusual about her behavior.
Upstairs, Jules entered her bedroom and closed the door.
She opened her notebook, reviewed the measurements she'd taken earlier, and began calculating how much space she would need for the prefabricated chicken enclosure.
The task was straightforward, and she quickly became absorbed in it.
She didn't think about the disappointment on Kaelith's face for very long.
It wasn't because she didn't care.
She cared more than anyone in that house could possibly understand.
She had watched members of her family die. She had buried people she loved, survived disasters that destroyed entire communities, and learned to continue moving even when grief threatened to overwhelm her.
In her eighth life, she had survived for years in a world where hesitation could cost someone their life. She had learned to make decisions quickly, to recognize danger before it became obvious, and to accept that some losses couldn't be prevented.
Those lessons hadn't disappeared simply because she'd awakened in her eighteen-year-old body.
To Jules, spending a few evenings preparing supplies instead of playing games was a small sacrifice.
There would be time for games once the family was secure.
At least, that was what she believed.
She finished the calculations, closed her notebook, and prepared to enter the dimension again.
Downstairs, Kaelith's laughter drifted faintly through the house as Amira declared herself the winner of another race.
Jules heard it, smiled briefly, and continued with her preparations.
She had been given another chance to keep them alive, and she intended to use every advantage available to her.
The thought that surviving together might require more than preparation had not yet occurred to her.