Dean came up behind her while she was rinsing Axel's sticky hands.
He slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Morning," he murmured lazily. "I'm gonna head over to your parents' place. Lilith said the twins have a school thing later and she needs help."
Of course she does.
Rosalie smiled.
Warm. Soft. Convincing.
"Have fun," she said lightly. "Tell Chloe and Caleb I said hi."
She didn't let him see the way her eyes iced over.
Didn't let him see the way her fingers curled slightly into Axel's shirt.
Dean grinned, completely oblivious. "You're the best."
She almost laughed.
The best.
If he only knew.
He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. As soon as it shut behind him, Rosalie's smile vanished.
She lifted her hand and wiped her cheek slowly.
Once.
Twice.
As if she could scrub away the feel of him.
Her stomach churned.
It drove her insane pretending.
Pretending she didn't know he'd slept with her sister for years.
Pretending she didn't know he helped sacrifice her children.
Pretending she didn't remember him standing silently in that laboratory hallway while she screamed.
All she wanted was to kill him.
Kill Lilith.
Kill her parents.
Burn their house to the ground and watch it collapse.
But she couldn't.
Not yet.
It was too risky.
Five months before the apocalypse.
If she acted now, she'd be arrested. Charged. Imprisoned.
And when the heat came—
When the power grids failed—
When the green rain fell—
Her children would be alone.
No.
She swallowed the rage and forced her breathing to even out.
She would wait.
She would plan.
She would prepare.
And she would keep every single one of them in the dark.
******************************************
After breakfast and cartoons, once the older kids were distracted, Rosalie slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.
She leaned against the sink and closed her eyes.
Her space hummed beneath her ribs—steady, powerful.
She had food.
Medicine.
Weapons.
Clothing.
Even livestock might already be possible within those endless grasslands.
But there were things she hadn't seen.
Seeds.
She hadn't seen a single seed vault or agricultural storage facility in the building.
The soil outside the white stone structure was rich—dark and fertile—but empty.
If she wanted crops beyond what the grocery floor offered, she'd need variety.
Heirloom seeds.
Grains.
Rice.
Corn.
Wheat.
Medicinal plants.
Fruit trees.
And livestock.
Chickens. Goats. Sheep. Cattle.
In her past life, animals had mutated quickly after the green rain.
Some became monstrous predators.
Others were technically edible—
But the meat tasted foul.
Mutated cow meat had been poisonous in some regions. The milk—while not lethal—tasted like rotten eggs, dirty socks, and lemon juice mixed together.
She shuddered.
Her children would not drink that filth.
Not this time.
Thankfully…
"I have money," she whispered to her reflection.
Almost five million dollars.
Her grandmother's inheritance.
Her paternal grandparents had been extremely wealthy—old money, strategic investors. When they passed, Lilith and Rosalie each received sizable trust funds accessible at eighteen.
In her past life, Rosalie hadn't touched hers.
She'd lived modestly on her own income.
She wanted security.
Stability.
Dean had always pressured her to dip into it.
"Why save it? We could upgrade the car."
"Let's take a vacation."
"You're being paranoid."
Meanwhile Lilith—
Lilith had burned through her inheritance like it was pocket change.
Luxury vacations.
Designer handbags.
Expensive cars she couldn't afford to maintain.
Fine dining.
She paraded around like a princess with endless wealth.
But without that trust fund?
She was a broke, unemployed, wannabe influencer living off their parents' patience.
Rosalie's jaw tightened.
In her past life, three months before the apocalypse, Lilith had come to her crying.
The last hundred thousand gone.
Gambled away.
Rosalie had transferred her entire inheritance to Lilith that same week.
Every dollar.
She remembered Dean's satisfied smile.
She remembered her mother saying, "You're such a good sister."
She had been proud of herself.
Proud.
What a fool.
This time, not a single cent would go to Lilith.
Not one.
******************************************
That afternoon, Rosalie strapped Axel into his car seat and loaded the other kids into the SUV.
"Where are we going?" Liam asked excitedly.
"Adventure," Rosalie replied with a small smile.
First stop—
Seeds.
She drove to three different agricultural supply stores and purchased bulk heirloom seed varieties. She paid in cash where possible and had the rest delivered to a storage unit she'd quietly rented that morning.
From there, it was livestock inquiries.
She contacted small farms within driving distance.
Chickens first. Easy to maintain. Fast reproduction.
Then goats.
She would need milk that wouldn't mutate into something inedible after the rain.
Cattle would come later. Sheep too.
She had five months to space out purchases so nothing looked suspicious.
Next—
Takeout.
Her children's favorite pizza place.
A local Chinese restaurant.
Fried chicken.
Burgers.
She ordered absurd amounts.
Extra portions.
Family trays.
She smiled at confused cashiers and said she was hosting gatherings.
Every single dish disappeared into her space the moment she touched it.
Still hot.
Still fresh.
It would stay that way forever.
Her heart warmed slightly watching Evelyn clutch her milkshake happily.
If the world burned, they would still have this.
She even stopped by three different bakeries.
She ordered custom cakes under different names.
Birthdays.
Graduations.
"Just in case," she told the bakers cheerfully.
While Rosalie could cook well enough—
She could not bake to save her life.
In the apocalypse, trusting someone else with food was dangerous.
Tampering.
Poison.
Theft.
This way, her children would still blow out candles.
Still celebrate milestones.
Even if the sky turned green.
******************************************
That night, after the kids were asleep, Rosalie stood by the window again.
Dean had texted that he was staying for dinner at her parents' house.
Of course he was.
Helping Lilith, no doubt.
Her fingers curled loosely at her sides.
Let them laugh together.
Let them feel secure.
Let them believe she was the same naive woman.
Five months.
By the time the temperature hit 35°C in winter—
By the time society started cracking—
She would be untouchable.
And when the green rain fell…
They would finally understand what it meant to be abandoned.
Just like her children had been.