Chapter 4

The days bled together in a haze of dust, sweat, and the constant drone of heavy machinery. The hole in the ground slowly took the shape of a bunker, walls of rebar and concrete rising from the red earth.

I supervised every detail, ensuring the construction was flawless, but I also made sure our progress was just a little too slow.

"The concrete needs more time to cure properly, Ethan. We can't rush this part."

"This custom wiring for the security system is complex, honey. It has to be perfect."

Five days before the flare. The air was already tense. News reports were talking about unusual solar activity, but the public hadn't panicked yet.

Ethan had.

He stormed onto the site, his face tight with anxiety.

"Molly, what is taking so long? This should have been done days ago!"

I could hear the frantic drumbeat of his thoughts.

I put on my best distressed face, letting my shoulders slump.

"Honey, I'm trying. But the crew... they need to get paid for the custom blast door. It's the last major piece. The manufacturers won't release it until the invoice is paid in full. We can't install it without paying them first."

It was a lie, of course. My dad's company had an excellent line of credit. But Ethan didn't know that.

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up. "Paid? I've already given you so much money!"

He fumed, his jaw clenched, but desperation won. He pulled out his phone, his thumbs jabbing at the screen.

"Fine! How much?"

I told him the amount. It was inflated, enough to cover my crew's bonuses and then some.

His eyes bulged, but he made the transfer. A notification pinged on my phone a moment later.

"There," he snarled. "Now get that door here. Today."

I gave him a grateful, watery smile. "Thank you, honey. I knew I could count on you."

As soon as he left, I gathered my crew. I transferred them their pay, plus a significant bonus.

"That's for your hard work," I told them. "And for what's coming. I'm telling you all this because I respect you. In a few days, things are going to get bad. Use this money. Go home, stock up on everything you can, and stay with your families. Don't leave your homes."

They looked at me, confusion and concern in their eyes. They knew my dad. They knew our family wasn't prone to crazy talk.

One of the older guys, a man named Dave who' d worked for my dad for twenty years, just nodded slowly. "We trust you, Molly."

They finished the blast door installation in record time.