The key to Building F's twenty-second floor proved who she was. A little over a thousand dollars hired several guards to help carry her packages.
Enough hands, quick elevator trips. Less than an hour, and everything was upstairs. She thanked them, closed the door, and began opening boxes.
Open one, store it. More than two hours before she finished. Purchases in the space, cardboard on the floor. Kindling for later.
She stored the boxes too, then swept up. Three bedrooms. Hers, a gym, a vegetable-growing room.
Until the government-run base in B City was built, she expected to be here a long time.
Dark outside. She'd showered and was drying her hair when the phone rang again. Taylor.
Short hair washed fast. Dried fast too. She draped a towel around her shoulders and answered. "Hello?"
A surprised pause. Taylor hadn't expected an answer. "Where are you?"
David grabbed the phone. "Emma! Where are you? You sold your shares to Blue Star Technology? Ungrateful girl! Is this how you honor your parents' memory?"
His face twisted. If she were in front of him, he'd wrap his hands around her throat and kill her.
She rubbed her ear. Again. Always her dead parents. David and Robert had used them to make a younger Emma trust them, obey them, again and again.
"What should I have done? Handed them to you for nothing?"
She'd once thought they meant well. Both her uncles.
That Emma was gone. Some pain only needed experiencing once. Going back for more wouldn't be stubbornness. It would be stupidity.
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He faltered. Two seconds, then the shouting resumed. "Ungrateful girl! I'm your uncle. What's wrong with asking you for a little something—"
"Uncle David." She cut straight across him. "Be honest. Was it a little something you wanted?"
Once the shares were theirs in her first life, David and Robert had dropped the act. Taylor had gone from flattering her to bullying her. Then the apocalypse, and everything got worse.
Still swearing. So she thought she could stand on her own now? He'd find her. Beat her to death. She laughed through her nose and hung up.
Mom and Dad would never have let them do this to her.
But picturing their faces now, furious and helpless, felt good. She set an alarm and lay down, her awareness slipping into the space.
The grass was almost gone. She grew more. Then—oh. A sow lying on the ground, belly beginning to swell. Her eyes lit up.
More food reserves. Back outside the space, she searched for litter sizes. "Ten piglets."
She sat bolt upright. All those sows. If they each had ten, how long before she had all the pork she could ever want?
More cabbage for them. She couldn't help herself. "Eat up. Go on." Her gaze made the pigs uneasy. Not uneasy enough to resist the tender leaves. They grunted and ate.
She slept smiling. A good sleep, this time.
Morning. The alarm rang on time. She was washing up when the doorbell sounded. Four contractors on the intercom screen.
Toothbrush in her mouth, she opened the door. Four pairs of eyes turned her way. "Ms. Bennett? We spoke last night. That's you?"
She nodded, rinsed, poured water. Earlier than she'd expected. Barely past seven.
Water finished, they wanted to get started. Finish her job today and they could fit in another that afternoon.
"Everything's here. Tell us how you want it." Two of them carried the materials in. She pointed to the rooms, outlining the work areas.
"Underfloor heating here. Removable. I want to take it if I move. Solar panels on the balcony facing the kitchen. Enclose that balcony. Split the wiring—one run to the kitchen, one to a bedroom.
"Soundproof, blast-resistant glass throughout. Security doors on the inside." It still had to look normal from outside. Two new iron security doors behind the original wooden door—three doors in all.
Outside, they'd attract attention. Inside, no one could see them. She'd feel safer that way.
Four astonished contractors. Strangest client they'd had all year. Was she turning the apartment into a cage?
Then again, a pretty young woman wanting to keep dangerous people out made sense. More to the point, she was paying too much to argue.