The next week passed in a nightmarish blur. I didn’t go to school, I barely ate, and I slept in snatches.

I remember a knock coming at the front door one day. Peeking out the blinds, I saw news van parked by the picket fence and a perky reporter and a heavyset cameraman waiting out the door. I didn’t answer, and eventually they left.

No bodies had been recovered, so there was a mass memorial held for the crew. Asher received a flag, folded in a ceremonial style, and I received the condolences from Dad’s coworkers and friends—all coast guard. Except for his kids, he didn’t have a life outside his job.

While I smiled graciously and listened to people’s charming anecdotes about Dad, Asher spun up a tale of our “aunt” taking care of us back at the house. Listening, I realized he was really good. He could fabricate details on the fly. Not too many to make it obvious he was lying, but just enough to give our story authenticity.

I think if the world weren’t falling apart, we wouldn’t have gotten away with it. Someone official would have insisted on checking in on us, or some bureaucratic stopgap would have tripped us up.

But the world was slowly falling to pieces. Riots and food shortages were spreading across the world like a giant fungus, and every day Betty drew closer. Apparently, if you had a powerful enough telescope at home you could even see her. No one had time to worry about two orphan teenagers who would be legal adults in a few months, anyway.

We got out of the memorial service unscathed. I didn’t know if Dad would have been proud that we were so independent, or annoyed that the service he’d lived and died for had let us go without double-checking to make sure we were okay.

The week wore on, and the house was empty, save for Asher and I. It should have felt weird, but Dad had been gone so often that it didn’t. Maybe he had already been in the process of leaving.

On Thursday night, I tiptoed into my dad’s bedroom, feeling like I was trespassing. His bed was made to his rigid standards. Everything was left in its place, which made it easy for me to find his laptop.

“What are you doing?” Asher asked as I set it up in the living room.

“Dad has been using the same password for years, right?” I didn’t wait for an answer as I typed it in. Sure enough, I was able to log in on the first try. Looked like he had his browser automatically save his passwords, too. Thanks, Dad.

“What are you doing?” Asher repeated, more cautiously as he took a seat next to me.

I turned the screen and typed the link to our bank. The password auto-filled, and with a few clicks, I was in.

“Figuring out how we’re going to pay bills and stuff until…until we get to the SAFEsite.”

“We’re still doing that?”

I looked at him. “Yes, why?”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to be that into Connor.” He held up his hand as if he expected me to object. I didn’t. “You haven’t texted him or anything. He’s…sort of been asking me how you were holding up.”

“Oh.” I didn’t even have my phone on me. Was it charged anymore? I winced. “I guess I could do better…”

Asher sighed and leaned back. “I don’t know, Astrid. Love isn’t something you should have to force yourself to do.”

“This isn’t love. It’s a business arrangement.”

It was as if the words had come from my heart, bypassing my common sense completely. I wanted to take them back, but why? It was the truth.

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“That’s…really messed up,” Asher said.

I raised my chin and stared at my brother, daring him to judge me. “Do you want into the SAFEsite or not?”

Asher let out a breath and looked away, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Does Connor know how you feel?”

“I’m not going to hurt him. I’m not some cold, unfeeling bitch. Damn it,” I cursed and reached up to push away leaking tears. I was so sick of crying. “The world is ending. Dad’s gone—I don’t know why everyone expects me to fall in love right this second. We’ll have time for that, later.”

“When? After you have kids?”

“Connor will be a great father.”

His jaw dropped. “That was a joke.”

“It’s not to me!” I spat. “It’s expected. You have no idea—I don’t have a choice anymore.”

“Astrid…” he muttered, reaching out and then thinking better of it. He ran his hand back through his hair. “Jesus. I didn’t know.”

“Well, you weren’t the one born with a uterus. You aren’t expected to keep the human race going.” Turning from him, I made myself concentrate on the bank info. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about this anymore. My heart couldn’t take it. “I’m going to pay all the bills for the next three months then withdraw the rest.”

Asher was silent, and I could almost hear him debating if he should push me more on the Connor issue or not. With a sigh, he gave in and scooted back over to look over my shoulder.

“Pay the bills for two months. We just need to keep the lights on. I don’t care if his credit is trashed.”

“Good point.” I chewed my lip and as I looked over the options to transfer money. I didn’t have Dad’s debit card, and even if I did, I didn’t know his pin. “Um, remember those savings accounts he had us open when we were like ten?” I think he had the idea of teaching us about money management, but I totally forgot about the twenty-five dollar savings a few months later. With years’ worth of bank interest, there might even be thirty dollars in there.

“Oh yeah…” Asher squinted, thinking back. “I haven’t touched mine.”

“Me neither, but if we can get those account numbers, we can transfer funds.”

He nodded and stood. “I’ll look in the file cabinet.”

But the bank paperwork wasn’t in the file cabinet, or the tiny writing desk he had crammed in a corner. Annoyed, I shoved aside the work boots he kept at the bottom of his closet. This had also been the spot where he kept the locked gun box. Maybe he kept his important paperwork there, too.

I had to duck down to my hands and knees to search the tiny closet, and let out a squeak of surprise when one wooden plank tipped up under my hand.

Why in the world was it so loose?

I had seen enough movies to know a hidey-hole when I saw one. Quickly, I removed the plank.

I had been hoping for another stashed gun, maybe food or cash. Instead, I found the bank paperwork I’d been looking for along with all our birth certificates, and…a map?

It was a map of the continental United States with tiny marks and Dad’s pin-neat handwriting here and there. The light was a little too low to read in the bedroom, so I took it out to the living room.

“Found the bank stuff?” Asher asked. He was still on Dad’s laptop. “I figured out how to transfer money, but they’re only going to limit us to one-fifty a day. I think they’re trying to make people keep their money in the bank—” He glanced up and saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad had a map in his important documents.”

I walked over and spread it on the table. Dad’s marks dotted the US in most states, though they weren’t near major cities. Hardly any on the East Coast.

There were seven in California alone, with one dotted in the coastal mountains which separated the bay from the San Joaquin Valley.

Dad’s notes were dates.

I sucked in a breath. “These are SAFEsites.”

“No, California only has three.”

“We’re only supposed to have three. Dad said there were more, remember?”

Asher opened his mouth, seemed to consider, and then closed it. “What are these dates, then? They’re all at least four months out.”

“Maybe…maybe the times they’re going to let people in? Or completion dates? A few of them are crossed out and Connor’s always taking off to help with tech support out there.”

He studied it for a few more minutes, then shook his head. “Huh, maybe. Too bad it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Um, because we’ve been hung out to dry? However Dad was planning to get us in—that isn’t happening now.”

My gaze fell back down to the map. It felt like a hole had opened up under my feet.

Asher continued, and his voice was more bitter than I had ever heard before. “Everyone was all pretty words at the memorial, but no one contacted us. No one said a damn word about the SAFEsite. He gave up his life for them, and they just…they just…”

Abruptly he pushed the map away and stood, blinking rapidly and turning away.

I got it. It was strange how grief swooped in on you at random times.

He wasn’t wrong, either.

Rising, I reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, shrugging off my touch. “I need some air,” he said roughly and walked away, back to his room.

I thought about going after him—he’d been so strong, over the last few days, but he clearly wanted space. I should give him that.

With a sigh, I folded up the map, making sure to keep the creases even. Then I returned it back to its hiding place under the loose wooden plank. It wasn’t going to do us any good now.