The first ATM was in a run-down gas station on the edge of the industrial district, its screen cracked, the surrounding area littered with trash. Rosie parked her black unmarked car a block away, walked to the gas station on foot, and slipped into the small booth housing the ATM. She inserted her anonymous card, typed in the PIN, and requested $100,000—only $80,000 dispensed, the machine beeping loudly, a red light flashing. She cursed under her breath, grabbing the cash and yanking her card out, hurrying out of the booth before anyone noticed. As she turned the corner, she spotted a crumpled piece of paper on the ground—same handwriting as the teller's list, but with one extra address scribbled in the margin, circled twice. She frowned, picking it up—she hadn't written that. Who had? And why?
By the time she'd withdrawn the $1.2 million she needed, eight hours had passed. She'd visited seven different ATMs, walked miles in the damp cold, narrowly avoided a group of drifters who'd eyed her suspiciously, and had to abandon one ATM after it malfunctioned, leaving her short $20,000—money she'd had to make up by visiting an eighth location. Her feet ached, her hands were raw from prying open the ATM slot, and her nerves were frayed, but she'd done it: $1.2 million in cash, hidden in her jacket and a small, unmarked duffel bag she'd stashed in her car. The locket at her throat hummed softly, as if reassuring her, and she slid into her car, staring at the list of supply shops on her burner phone. Then her phone vibrated again—not a text from Mr. Henderson, but an unknown number, with only one line: *I know what you're hiding. And so does he.*
The hard part—getting the cash—was over. Now, the real work began: buying supplies, hiding them in the locket's boundless storage, and staying one step ahead of Ethan. She knew he was watching, knew he was tracking her every move through his bank contact, but she didn't care. He could chase her cash withdrawals, could chase her supply runs, could chase every fake clue she left—but he'd never find the money, never find the supplies, never find the secret of her locket. But the text lingered in her mind—who was the unknown sender? Was it the man from the bank alley? Or someone else, someone who knew about her past, about the flood, about everything? She started the car, merging onto the road toward her first supply shop, her gaze cold and determined. The flood was coming, and she was ready to fight—to survive, to outsmart Ethan, to take back everything he'd stolen from her in the last life. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't just running from Ethan. She was running from something else, too—something darker, something she'd thought she'd left behind. As the doomsday downpour looms, a deadly hunt begins. Reborn with the hatred of her flood death, Rosie's only hope is an inconspicuous silver locket—one that hides an eerie, boundless storage power. A secret someone is already hunting for. That someone is Ethan: cruel, calculating, and obsessed. He overheard her secret, planted a bank insider, and lurks like a snake—not for the $1.2 million she withdrew, but to wait until she gathers all supplies, then seize everything in one fell swoop. Last life, he destroyed her; this time, he'll let her do the work first, then take it all and make her suffer. But is his obsession only with her supplies and the locket? Rosie's cash run is littered with his traps—faulty ATMs, prying eyes, a cryptic anonymous text: "I know what you're hiding." He's not stopping her from withdrawing money ; he's letting her play out her plan, biding his time to strike. And Ethan isn't the only shadow haunting her. The locket hums with a secret darker than its storage power, luring unknown figures—including an unmarked black SUV that never strays far. Ethan's hunt is just the start. What else is the locket hiding? And who else is watching? As the flood closes in, Rosie clutches her locket, knowing one wrong move means death. She'll make Ethan pay—but the true danger, the one she can't see, may already be too close.