The Scorch had arrived. Surface temperatures soared past 150 degrees Fahrenheit, and the first wave of humanity was preparing to evacuate to the Arctic Citadel. As a leading scientist, my husband, David, was granted a priority ticket that included a spot for his spouse. Everyone assumed he would take me without a second thought. But the name he wrote on the application form wasn't mine. It was his graduate student's. "She's a young girl I've mentored," he'd said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. "She has no family, no one to look after her. I can't just leave her here to burn." He submitted the form without a single glance my way, his words a shard of ice in my heart. "June, you're different," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "You've always been tough. I have faith you can survive until the second transport wave." A bitter smile tightened my lips. I said nothing. That night, as the temperature climbed ever higher on the global feed, I calmly made a phone call. "You once told me you'd grant me one wish, no questions asked," I said, my voice steady. "Does that offer still stand?" 1 There was no hesitation on the other end. "Always." I took a breath, my voice barely a whisper. "Can you get me two tickets for the Ark? For my mother and me. On the first transport." A chance at survival. A ticket was a prayer answered. He couldn't make a firm promise, but his words were a lifeline. "I'll do everything I can." Just as I hung up, David walked in, his eyes still glued to his phone. "Who were you calling?" he asked. I was too tired to even invent a lie. "Someone about tickets," I said, my voice flat. He didn't even look up. "There are only a few hundred tickets for the first wave. You won't get one. If it were possible, I would have already arranged it for you." My fingers tightened around my phone. Of course, he knew how priceless they were. And still, he had cast me aside for his student without a moment's hesitation. When I didn't respond, he finally lifted his head. "June, don't worry. I've already put your name down for the second wave. You're not going to die." I listened to the radio announcer's grim report of the rising heat and let out a silent, scornful laugh. Everyone knew that in the Scorch, every day you waited was another tick down on your chances of survival. The apocalypse loomed, and perhaps it was the suffocating anxiety, but a desperate sliver of hope made me ask, "David, for the sake of my mother—the woman who sponsored your education for six years—can't you at least take her? She's old, her health is failing. She won't last long here." A heavy, unbearable silence filled the room. We hadn't turned on the lights, and in the gloom, I couldn't make out the expression on his face. We had been married for seven years, but we had known each other for far longer. We grew up on the same street, childhood friends who became inseparable. Then, the summer before high school, David's parents were killed in a car accident. My mother, her heart aching for the lonely boy, took him in. In an era of scarcity, where every grain of rice was counted, she somehow managed to put two of us through college. The summer after we graduated, David, who had always been a man of few words, made me a promise. He swore that if the world ended, he would die by my side. The summer air back then wasn't nearly as hot as it was now, but the heat of his palm against mine had been enough to set my entire world ablaze. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the memory dissolve like smoke. David was silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "June, Chloe is my most valuable assistant. I need her with me. It's not up for discussion." He paused, his voice dropping. "And… don't take the things we said as kids so seriously." A bitter laugh escaped my lips, and I swayed, nearly losing my balance. It was the Scorch, the air thick enough to cook a man alive, yet his words chilled me to the bone. Soon, the clouds parted, and a sliver of moonlight illuminated his sharp, detached features. He nudged a file folder toward me. "Here. This is for you." I opened it. It was a divorce agreement. 2 My head snapped up, my eyes wide with disbelief. David took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea. "The first wave transport requires proof of kinship," he explained calmly. "Chloe is only my student. That's not enough." My hand trembled as I picked up the paper, my teeth clenched. "So?" He adjusted his glasses, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but his voice remained as clinical and detached as ever. "So, I need you to sign this. To divorce me. You'll give her your status as Mrs. Blackwood, and then Chloe can board the Ark without any issues." He finally looked at me, attempting a reassuring tone. "June, it's just a fake divorce. A temporary marriage for the paperwork. You know you're the only one for me. It's just a title, it means nothing." I lowered my gaze, a hollow laugh catching in my throat. I couldn't remember when our conversations had shifted from the thrilling frontiers of science to the mundane grind of groceries and bills. Maybe it was a few years into our marriage. Or maybe it was the day Chloe became his graduate student. I couldn't be sure. This was the most he had said to me in one stretch in years. And it was all to convince me to divorce him. A bitter cocktail of emotions churned in my gut. I sniffled, took the pen, and signed my name without a moment's hesitation. Seeing my decisiveness, David's brow furrowed, a hint of irritation in his voice. "June, once the Scorch passes, we'll remarry." I turned my head away, waving a dismissive hand. "You said it yourself, David. It's the end of the world. A piece of paper doesn't mean anything. Who knows if we'll even be alive next month?" I met his gaze, my own cold and hard. "Maybe you should focus on saving the continent, Dr. Blackwood." His voice grew heavy. "That's not what I meant. Don't throw a fit over a young girl." I ignored him, crawling into bed and pulling the covers over my head. Thank God for the darkness. It hid the tears streaming down my face, the utter devastation that was breaking me apart. Soon, David lay down beside me, his back to mine. The familiar distance, the chilling indifference. We were inches apart, yet a universe of cold stretched between us. I silently wiped my eyes. In this heat, air conditioning units were failing everywhere, their circuits fried. No one could guarantee ours wouldn't be next. The thought of being slowly cooked alive kept me awake for hours. Then, a sudden, jarring ringtone pierced the silence. It was David's phone. The special tone he'd set just for Chloe. I heard a frantic fumbling as he silenced it. He must have thought I was asleep, but I could feel his tense gaze on me, even through the blanket. He tiptoed out of the room and into the living room, cracking the front door open. His voice was a low whisper. "Chloe? What are you doing here so late?" Chloe’s voice was thick with manufactured tears. "Dr. Blackwood, my AC broke… It's so hot, I can't stand it. I had nowhere else to go, I just… I…" I could hear the wheels of her luggage. She sounded so pitiful, so helpless. "Could I… could I please stay here for a few days?" My hand clenched the corner of the sheet. We were both waiting for his answer. Chloe and I. But just like with the Ark ticket, I already knew I would lose. The door creaked open wider. "Come in," David said. "But be quiet. June's a light sleeper." Chloe's feigned sobs turned into a relieved giggle. "Oh, Dr. Blackwood, you're the best!" She paused at the threshold, then seemed to reconsider. "But… if you let me stay, won't your wife mind?" David was silent for a moment, as if contemplating the profound nobility of his actions. "Don't worry about her. You're my student. It's perfectly fine for you to stay for a few days." Separated by a single door, my heart turned to ice. After settling Chloe on the couch, David started back toward the bedroom. But Chloe stopped him, her voice a soft, careful murmur. "Dr. Blackwood… you gave me the family ticket. Is… is your wife okay with that?" David's reply was laced with a gentleness I hadn't heard in years. "Chloe, you're my most brilliant protégé. I need you for my research. June understands. Everything we do is for the greater good of humanity." A cold, mirthless laugh escaped me in the dark. Once again, he had elevated his selfish desires to a noble cause I couldn't argue against. Always so rational, so objective. It was the same way he'd always met my anger and accusations—with a calm silence that made my hysteria feel like a childish tantrum. My pillow was soaked through with tears. Just then, my phone screen lit up. It was a text message, sent silently so as not to disturb me. June, tickets secured. A private transport will pick you and your mother up in three days. 3 A massive weight lifted from my shoulders. But that night, the bedroom door never opened again. David stayed in the living room, talking with Chloe late into the night about the challenges of the Scorch. I could already imagine his excuses if I were to walk out there. Academic discussion. A mentor-mentee exchange. I'd heard it all before. It was his tired, old refrain. I no longer had the energy to push open that door. What was the point? In this heat, every burst of anger felt like it was burning a hole through my chest. I needed to conserve my strength. For my mother. For our escape. Besides, in the face of survival, love and betrayal suddenly seemed so trivial. With that thought, I finally drifted into a deep sleep. To my surprise, however, Chloe was still there the next morning. She sat at our dining table, brazenly using my plate for her breakfast. When she saw me, she gave a timid little bow, her manners impeccable. "Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood. My AC is still out… I hope you don't mind me being here. I apologize for the intrusion." I gave her a sarcastic smile. The blanket on the sofa was still unfolded. They weren't even going to bother with an explanation. Or rather, they were too lazy to invent one for me. "June, come eat," David said. He had actually cooked, playing the part of the perfect, caring husband for Chloe's benefit. As Chloe picked up her knife and fork, my eyes locked onto the plate in front of her. We had made it ourselves at a pottery class, five years ago, for our anniversary. Etched into the bottom, almost invisible, was the promise of a lifetime he had sworn to me when we were young. That plate was a symbol of our love. And now, it was being used by another woman. Noticing my stare, David said casually, "Oh, the girl likes it. Just let her use it." My appetite vanished. I grabbed my car keys, intending to go pick up my mother. David shot up and grabbed my arm, his voice sharp. "Where are you going? It's 150 degrees out there. If you want to throw a tantrum, don't risk your life to do it." Chloe's eyes welled up with tears. "She's right, Mrs. Blackwood. The asphalt is melting. It's dangerous even in a car…" I let out a heavy breath. "I'm getting my mother. Let go of me!" In the scuffle, my arm knocked against the table. The plate in front of Chloe slid to the floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces, taking the vow etched into its surface with it. David froze, a strange tightness seizing his chest. I shoved him away and walked out into the oppressive, searing heat. The streets were dead. The stray cats and dogs that once roamed the neighborhood were long gone. A blanket of silence hung over the world. I rushed to my mother's small house in the countryside. Any later, and her old air conditioner would surely fail. But when we returned home, I was met with a scrutinizing glare. David quickly masked his expression, taking my mother's luggage with a respectful nod. "Mrs. Lane." My mother smiled warmly at him. After she was settled, David pulled me aside. His face was a thundercloud. "June, I need to remind you of something. This is an apocalypse. Resources are scarce. Our food supply won't last forever with an extra person." His voice was low, but every word was a blow. "Four mouths to feed is… a lot." I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. He… how could he? He was complaining that my mother was a burden. Disappointment twisted into a sharp pain in my chest. "David, she's my MOTHER! She's the woman who sponsored you for six years, who treated you like a son!" My voice cracked. "How could you say something so heartless?" He adjusted his glasses, his face a mask of cold logic. "June, I've calculated every single ration. I'm just stating a fact." There it was again. That infuriatingly calm, rational expression. My anger felt like punching a pillow. But I couldn't take it anymore. "David! Then tell Chloe to leave! Why is my mother the 'extra' one? Have you lost your conscience?!" At the mention of Chloe, his voice suddenly rose. "THAT'S WHY I'M TRYING TO DISCUSS IT WITH YOU!" He thrust a piece of paper at me—a schedule. "Smaller meals, stretched out over the next three days. After Chloe and I leave, you and your mother can figure out the rest on your own." I didn't even look at it. I snatched the paper from his hand and ripped it to shreds. In the other room, my mother was looking at Chloe with a puzzled expression. "Honey," she asked me, her voice laced with uncertainty. "Who is this young lady?" David’s posture tensed. He instinctively moved to stand slightly in front of Chloe, a silent, protective gesture. I watched them, a profound weariness settling over me. To me, David had always been a distant star—cold, remote, and untouchable. But now I saw the truth. His light just wasn't meant to shine on me. Not wanting to worry my mother, I forced a smile. "Mom, she's one of David's students." My mother visibly relaxed, her face breaking into a relieved grin. "Oh, what a lovely girl." She looked from me to David. "So, in three days, we're all leaving together, right?" Her question, so innocent, hung in the air. I saw David's expression freeze for a fraction of a second. I answered for him. "Mom, go pack your things. Don't bring too much. Ten kilograms per person is the limit." My mother beamed, patting my hand. "Alright, alright. You should get packing too, dear. I'm so glad we can all go together. That's just wonderful." "Yeah," I mumbled, turning toward my bedroom. David followed me in, closing the door heavily behind us. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Did you tell your mother she's coming with us? How am I supposed to solve that, June? Where do you expect me to get two more tickets?" His voice rose. "You're lying to her, you know that." I just smiled. It wasn't a lie. We were leaving. And after that, we would have nothing more to do with him. 4 David's brow furrowed. "What are you smiling about, June?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to back me into a corner, to force my hand into taking your mother?" I opened my suitcase on the bed, not sparing him a single glance. "Don't worry," I said, my voice flat. "My mother and I won't interfere with your two spots on the Ark." I began dumping my belongings into the suitcase, then went to the closet and started pulling out old keepsakes—anniversary gifts, photo albums—and tossing them into the trash. In the apocalypse, they were just junk. Including all the sentiments attached to them. David picked up a small, stuffed bear from the trash—our third-anniversary gift. His face darkened. I didn't want to talk to him anymore. I packed my things and moved them into the guest room with my mother. The next three days were tense. Resources were tight, and each meal was just a small cup of water and a protein bar. But on the last night before our departure, I woke up thirsty and saw Chloe in the kitchen, using precious ice cubes from the freezer to soothe her face. I said nothing, but the moment she saw me, her eyes filled with tears. "Mrs. Blackwood… my skin was just so dry… I just wanted a little hydration… I'm sorry, I won't do it again…" David, drawn by the noise, came out and shot a cool look in my direction. "June, she's just a kid. Don't be so hard on her." I was stunned. Just yesterday, he was complaining that my mother was a burden, and now it was clear he was saving our rations for his "kid." My eyes met Chloe's over his shoulder. The feigned vulnerability on her face slowly hardened into a triumphant, knowing smirk. I was too exhausted to fight. I simply collected my and my mother's rations and returned to my room. David started to reach for me, but then let his hand fall, that strange, suffocating feeling returning to his chest. The third day arrived. I hauled our luggage to the designated pickup point, my mother leaning on my arm. When David saw me, he immediately pulled me aside, his voice tight with agitation. "June, do you really have to follow me? Are you this desperate?" "I already told you, you and your mother are on the second transport! Can't you understand plain English?" "Besides," he added, his voice rising in a crescendo of self-righteousness, "even if I didn't take Chloe, and I took you instead, would you really abandon your own mother? I'm doing this for your own good!" Once again, he was launching into a tirade on behalf of Chloe. A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips. "Who's following you? I told you, you don't have to worry about our tickets. I have my own way." David's brow tightened. He grabbed my arm. "June, you haven't worked in years. What 'way' could you possibly have? Can you stop being so stubborn?" His words almost made me laugh. The single research fellowship at the Institute all those years ago… it was mine. I gave it up so David could have his career. I wrenched my arm from his grasp. "David, please don't make me regret every single moment I spent believing I wasn't blind." He stared at his empty hand, his face twisting in anger as he shouted, "June, everything I've done is the result of careful consideration! Why can't you just trust me one more time!" Not wanting my mother to hear, I pulled my luggage away from him. "You don't need to worry about me." David opened his mouth to say more, but just then, a sleek, armored vehicle rolled to a stop in front of us. The Noah's Ark. I helped my mother toward the ramp. David panicked. "June, are you insane? You don't have a spot! Are you planning to storm the vehicle?" He shot a look at Chloe. "Get on, quickly, before someone takes your seat." Chloe flashed a smug smile and hurried forward. But as she stepped onto the ramp, an official in a crisp uniform blocked her path, checking a datapad. "Apologies, ma'am. This transport was chartered by Director Quinn to collect Ms. June Vance and her mother. Please do not interfere with our duties." In an instant, the color drained from David's face. He looked like he'd been struck by lightning.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393663", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel