Chapter 4

"Alright," I said to Michael, my mind already racing, cataloging, prioritizing. "We have no time to waste."

The fear for Lily, the vivid horror of my "memory," had lit a fire under him. His skepticism was still there, a shadow in his eyes, but my conviction, my terror, was overriding it.

"You believe me?" I had to ask.

"I believe you're terrified," he said, his voice grim. "And if there's even a one percent chance... for Lily... I'm in. Tell me what we need."

"Everything," I said. "We need to turn this house into a fortress. And we need supplies to last weeks, maybe longer."

I grabbed my purse and car keys. "I'll handle the supplies. You handle the house."

I gave him a list. "Storm shutters on all windows. Reinforced doors, especially the front and back. And the basement, Michael. We need to convert the basement. A secure safe room."

His eyes widened. "A safe room?"

"A steel door, insulated if possible. We need to be able to lock ourselves in and survive down there."

While I headed out for the most intense shopping trip of my life, Michael got on the phone. His architectural background gave him the contacts. He started calling emergency contractors, handymen, anyone who could work fast and discreetly. He' d pay any price.

The supermarkets were already buzzing with people stocking up for the predicted storm, but I was on a different level.

Carts, plural. Bulk non-perishable food: canned goods by the case – vegetables, fruits, meats, soups. Bags of rice, pasta, beans, flour, sugar. MREs – Meals Ready to Eat – as many as I could find. Powdered milk, coffee, tea.

Bottled water, gallons upon gallons. Water purification tablets.

A massive first-aid kit, then more: bandages, antiseptics, pain relievers, fever reducers, antibiotics I had from a previous prescription I never finished.

Batteries, all sizes. Flashlights, lanterns. Warm blankets, sleeping bags, thermal underwear.

Sanitation supplies: toilet paper, paper towels, trash bags, bleach, hand sanitizer.

And for Lily: coloring books, crayons, small toys, her favorite snacks, children's pain and fever medicine. Comfort items.

The checkout lines were long, but I paid in cash, avoiding any digital trail where possible. Multiple trips to the car, loading it to the brim.

The sky was darkening, the wind picking up. The radio confirmed it: an unprecedented blizzard was bearing down on us, expected to hit full force by late afternoon.

I had to hurry.