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... hope this isn't a trap," Kaden said the moment he joined him.

"I doubt it," Luke replied, offering a calm assurance as he watched Kaden take a seat in the chair beside him at the broad table. "There's no way our intel would feed us false information."

A large computer screen stood before them, lines of data scrolling steadily alongside a series of photographs.

Kaden's eyes darkened as he studied the images intently.

"These are from years ago, back when Jeremy and ...

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You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

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At the age of ten, Jiang Qi had black hair, shallow pupils, and a pale, delicate appearance. He often got injured, with blood flowing from his head. He was the son of a ‘notorious’ mu*derer in Chen Kong Alley, and people cursed him, saying that he had vile blood running in his veins. Except for Zhi Qi, no one paid him any attention.Zhi Qi often cried while bandaging his wounds, her voice soft as she asked, “Why do you always get hurt? Does it hurt a lot?”Jiang Qi smiled, the cold and rebellious boy appearing particularly obedient in front of her: “If you comfort me, it won’t hurt anymore.”By the time he reached high school, he had become the most famous madman, cold and ruthless in all Lin Lan. Zhi Qi remembered Jiang Qi once saying that most of his life was lived like a dog. He would rather have everyone fear him than let anyone bully him.Even though everyone feared him, Zhi Qi was not afraid.Unfortunate people spend their entire lives healing from childhood, and Zhi Qi wanted to heal Jiang Qi with her own efforts. She would make a promise to him on the rooftop of the school, where he brought her to the top: “Jiang Qi, take care. When I reach the legal age, I can marry you.”The boy’s response was a faint smile, his gaze clear and clean like the stars in the sky, filled with rare yearning for the future.Zhi Qi didn’t know that a simple promise saved Jiang Qi’s life, pulling him out of hell.Unfortunately, ‘redemption’ has an expiration date. When the clock strikes twelve for Cinderella, he remains the sick dog with nothing.A crazy boy, and all the sweet names in his obscure life are called ‘Zhi Qi’.

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She remembers him because of the mole at the corner of his eyebrow;He remembers her simply because she is her.Every passing encounter becomes a story in the memory,And you are the ending of my story.