So that meant we would have at least three engagement parties and two weddings within a year. As I lay in bed pretending to be asleep, this thought rattled around in my head.

My engagement party was going to happen when I was sixteen. Regina's party was happening this week to make the wedding happen before her belly started to show. And my father found himself a soft-spoken hussy to marry just to shut me up.

I forgot to tell him I had accepted the engagement, but it was too late.

Why did my life feel like a romance novel all of a sudden? This world was supposed to be a horror zombie slasher-type film about a regular Joe protagonist who strives for power. Everyone was partnering up, though, and preparing for their adulthood as if the end of the world wasn't within our horizon.

"I guess it's time to grow up," I mumbled into my pillow.

Regina's engagement party ended up becoming her wedding rehearsal. Surprisingly, she picked me as her maid of honor. We did most of the planning together since Graham and I were officially together, and he was picked as Saul's right-hand man. I relied heavily on Clara's social grasp as her taste and connections would always be superior to mine.

I thought she would be disappointed about not being picked up by Regina, but she was okay with it. Maybe because I essentially gave it to her, and we became co-maids of honor.

"Found you." An all too familiar voice spoke in my ear, and I jumped like a guilty thief.

I couldn't speak because I had stuffed five tiny tarts in my mouth and was chewing my way through them. I shot Graham a sharp look as my jaws worked overtime to chew and swallow. When my mouth was finally empty, I hissed at him. "Be quiet, or else we'll be found." I was tucked away in a little corner that no one would think to find me. We were above the grand stage where the rehearsal was going on. It was dark, quiet, and secretive…well, at least until now.

I wasn't exactly shy in crowds, but I did not want to be in the center of all those people being directed. It wasn't a complete shitshow, thanks to Clara, but it was too much noise for me to enjoy.

"You have the best hiding spots," Graham said, not all phased by my venom. This boy was either far too used to it or just insanely pure.

"We all have our talents."

"I suppose mine is finding you," Graham said with a bright smile.

I handed him a tart to shut him up, and he nibbled on it as we listened to the people below us.

"Wait, how do you always find me? Is it my aura?"

Graham smiled and gave a nod as he chewed the tart.

"That's not fair," I said with a pout.

"We all have our talents." He said, copying my words.

I gave him a look as I tried to ignore a memory that tickled my brain. Sometimes, Graham reminded me of more than just Adam… To distract this line of thinking, I turned away and pulled out two bottles of water for both of us. The tarts weren't dry, but I needed something for my throat.

"Are you going to be okay though?" Graham's question drew my attention to him, and I blinked.

His red eyes shined in the darkness, and I felt strange momentarily. Something was rubbing across my skin, but clearly nothing was. Could he be scanning my aura?

"Why wouldn't I be?" I said, dodging the question and the weird feeling. Maybe my powers were finally growing enough to sense such a thing, or perhaps I'd just ignored it all this time.

"I heard your father is getting married."

"I forgot to tell him I agreed to marry you, and he took my words too seriously." At Graham's blank expression, I told him about my conversation with my father and his new bride, Elena. There was no going back when I told him because my father had already signed the paperwork with her.

Graham was chuckling when I finished, and I had no energy to shoot him a dirty look. Besides, life was better with humor; at least, that's what I told myself to soothe my ego.

"Your father never does anything halfway, does he," Graham said.

I shook my head. "He seems happy with his future bride. Maybe I'll get a younger sibling out of this, so it won't be too bad."

"Your hand…" Graham's words drew my attention to my right hand. At some point, it had wrapped around my abdomen. It was white with tightness. Graham grabbed my hand, and I flinched. There was blood on my palm. "Dolyn…"

"I'm fine. This has nothing to do with my father." And everything to do with my joy and aversion to babies. My mind was silent for once, with thoughts better left hidden. And so it was with a numb brain that I watched Graham wrap my hand in a handkerchief.

"They're looking for us," Graham said, and I peered down to see that my name was being spoken.

"We better head down then and make what's about to happen next worth it," I said, dusting off my face. It was best to hide the evidence.

One of the funny customs this world had was that they didn't celebrate birthdays. Oh, they kept track of when people were born, but it wasn't a big deal in this society. Being alive wasn't an achievement. Your accomplishments, like a new job, a degree, and a marriage, were. In fact, it was frowned upon to celebrate birthdays as it was believed to be bad luck to celebrate a false achievement. It was hard to appreciate being born in this world when no one said anything about it. New parents were allowed a private celebration once their baby reached the two-year mark, but that was not the same.

You have to work hard to exist and then go to work.

It was a good deal for the most productive members of society. Take my father, for example; he rose to wealth by never taking a day off.

This is why I was almost speechless as I stared at my father feeding his bride at the dining room table.

I had already turned in my work to my tutors and had scored the rest of the day off. I was going to indulge in taste-testing twenty lemon tarts. Each tart came from a famous chef. Not a single one I'd had so far came close to the ones Adam used to give me. If I could find one that did, I would pin down that baker and have them teach me.

It wasn't exactly for healing, but it was good for coping with my tummy.

What was not good for my digestion was the disgusting scene before me. My carefully planned testing array was pushed to the side so my father could feed his woman some weird fish dish.

What kind of love spell was my father under? He was clearly under a heavy one, given the complete character change.

I scurried away from the scene before either could spot me and headed into my bedroom. I escaped into my locket and entered my sanctuary pocket world.

Mordecai had lengthened the restriction time in the world to a full whopping hour. That wasn't enough to cleanse what I witnessed, but at least I could roll around in the dirt as a palate cleanser.

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It was easier now than before to ignore the big giant countdown in the sky. I pulled out the touchpad and got through my dailys fairly quick. I was stocking up on a decent amount of produce. If I stayed later than planned, I wouldn't starve and could feed hundreds of people for days.

I wouldn't say this was an addiction, but it was with a manic glee that I clicked and clicked and clicked.

Finally, the alarm letting me know I had one minute came to be, and I scowled up at the sky. I wasn't ready to leave my safety net. So I did the next best thing: I entered my Hideaway home in my rose ring.

I wasn't here to relax or take a spa day. I had one big purpose. I needed to finish my final gift to Regina. My green thumb was a bit stronger outside of these pocket dimensions, but I'd already planted and started the sprout.

This world was fascinating in that there were new plants I'd never heard of in it. I experienced some differences when I was Wendy, but this world is unique. There was no such thing as roses here. The universal flower of love was the flower known as Caldasure. This was because in this world, if tended properly, it never died. A flower breeder created it hundreds of years ago, and the world never looked back. It was a strange flower that changed colors with the seasons. Petals might fall, and new ones would grow color depending on the season. The Caldasure starts with five petals, but another petal is added to the total array each year. It symbolized love and status to have a Caldasure with a petal of every season. The initial five stated the same color, symbolizing the start of the love.

I was attempting to become a breeder of Caldasure, but I wanted to change the flower by making it a hybrid with a rose.

The Caldasure smelled like cinnamon, which could be because this world's version of cinnamon was also strange. Cinnamon came from trees, but the flowers they created, on average, looked like paler leaves. I suspect that the Caldasure breeder used the cinnamon tree to make the Caldasure, but that was neither here nor there.

I want to try my hand at creating a new life. If I can give Regina a Caldasure Rose, all of these efforts will be worth it. I wanted her to be happy.

My hideaway home's conservatory went from being a tea spot to a breeding ground of mayhem. I wasn't just attempting to bring the rose into this world but many other mutant variations of plants. The more I worked with plants, the stronger my capabilities became. I wasn't able to experiment too much outside of my pocket dimensions. My father didn't allow plants into his home, and anytime I stepped outside, I became sick, so that, too, was limited.

I inspected my version of the Caldasure. It was in the middle of the room, at the center of the chaos. The pot was handcrafted and one I'd been able to order online.

Caldasures had specific pots, including shelves and openings where you were supposed to insert fertilizer and new soil. It was extremely difficult to repot them because of their picky natures. Most plants loved a new pot but not a Caldasure. So, their pots were intricately designed to ensure they never had to leave it.

"Stubborn like me," I said as I fondled a leaf. If I wasn't given a push, I'd never leave, and yet the universe seemed determined to push me around to new places.

It wasn't time to present this to Regina yet, but it was almost ready. All this flower needed was a bit more time to hibernate, and then it would be prepared to bloom. Every day, I came by to feed the flower just a bit more of my energy; right now, it was on the precipice of flowering.

I left my Hideaway home with a smile that was immediately wiped clean when I saw my room wasn't empty.

There were two people in it, and from the looks on their faces, they were waiting for me.

I knew that my father and Graham were cozying up as future in-laws, but why did I feel guilty when I saw their eyes as I reentered my own room?

The two were looking at me with varying expressions of worry and stoicism.

I turned to leave right away, not willing to endure whatever the heck was coming my way.

Graham caught me sneakily with his aura. It wrapped around my wrist with precision and strength.

"So you can also teleport around like you move things?" Graham's voice broke the silence.

My eyes darted to my father as I wondered how to answer this. There was no way I would spill the details about my pocket dimensions. He was a power-hungry wild horse. He would want to utilize it, and I had my hands full being a plant breeder and business owner.

"Kinda," I said as I poked at the red energy attached to me. It didn't budge, so neither could my feet. Who knew what would happen if I slipped away? Would I drag Graham in with me? Could I even bring people into my dimensions? I had no idea. And I wasn't going to try it out with Graham.

"Dolyn, does my getting married make you want to run away?" My father's voice was steady, but there was a touch of something in it that snapped my gaze to him. It wasn't sadness but humor I saw dancing in his eyes.

"I'm preparing gifts. I didn't step out because you were making kissy faces with your wife." I said, attempting to cross my arms but only managing to cross one arm.

"Where did you go?" Graham said, still not releasing me as he walked towards me.

"It's a secret," I said.

They both gave me looks, but I stubbornly jutted out my chin.

"Well, the planner is here for our engagement party," Graham said with a smile that could smooth over any situation.

It worked for the moment, but as I met my father's eyes in passing, I knew this was far from over.

The planner was a pleasantly sweet-looking woman. She was soft-spoken and had a tiny stature that didn't reach five feet. So, color me surprised when the bag she slammed onto the coffee table was almost her height and double her width.

I didn't need to look through the things she prepared for me to know what I wanted. I would make the engagement party look the same as in my dream, from the curtains to the music and the food served.

I rattled off everything, including the venue, which was the hotel banquet hall my father owned next door. She wrote down everything as I listed off what I wanted. I barely had time to sip my tea because she jotted down notes efficiently and quickly.

I sent a worker to help her back down and thanked her for her time. She would get paid for traveling all the way up, even if I just took thirty minutes of her time to list my demands. It would be easier than having her stay for six hours to review everything.

"You really thought of everything." There was wonder in Graham's eyes as he spoke. He seemed shocked that I had spent so much time thinking of what the party would be. It was not in my nature to give a hoot about parties.

I had help, though; my prophetic dreams gave me the answer. "I dreamt it happened," I said, closing my eyes and imagining the grandeur of the party. "So it wasn't me thinking, just repeating how my dreams portrayed it."

Everything needed to look just like my dream. If I nailed down every aspect, what I wanted most could happen. My throat tightened as my heart crashed in my chest. If I did it right, he might appear. Was it foolish? Yes, and even cruel to Graham in some regard, but I desired this more than almost anything.

And that made me a fool.

Regina's wedding was before my engagement party, and I'd managed to avoid my father the two weeks following it. I was actually thankful to my stepmother for distracting him.

Of course, I knew that if my father truly wanted to confront me, no one would stop him. And I'd end up facing him in his private office like I am now.

"Dolyn." My father's stern voice washed over me, giving me comfort and steadiness.

Our relationship was close, but there was a distance that hadn't gone away the day he stopped picking me up.

"I'm preparing for the end of the world, father." I blurted it out quickly before he asked any questions I wasn't prepared for.

"The end of the world?" He said. His face was a mask with no emotion.

"I've seen it. Humans become rabid monsters with a virus. They cannibalize each other, and the world falls into chaos. Some gain abilities and can survive, but the world will forever change."

My father leaned back in his chair as if my words rocked him. Nothing on his face showed a lick of concern.

"You already knew that, though, didn't you?" I said, eyeing him with suspicion. It shouldn't be too surprising that my father did. He managed to gather the elite around him. And all the kids who moved into this building had insanely powerful abilities.

Of course, one condominium was empty, but that could have belonged to the vain flame girl who attacked me.

"Your ability comes from me. The day you were born, I lost my ability to see the future." My father said, "My final vision was the world ending, similarly to what you just said."

I gulped. It was one thing to have conjecture, but to have it confirmed…

"If I have another child, I may lose another power." My father said, but there was something in his eyes.

"What else can you do?" I said.

"What can you do, Dolyn?" He shot back.

I thinned my lips and shook my head. So both of us would keep our secrets. I really am my father's daughter.

"Did you see yourself having another kid in that future?" I said after a prolonged silence. I was curious and unable to stop myself from changing the subject.

"Yes." My father said, and his tone was final. Before I could open my mouth to ask more, he continued speaking. "So promise me you'll look after the child as if he's your own."

Heh. I'm going to have a brother. Joy warred with an intangible feeling of regret. I technically had a brother, Augustus. One I'd done an even better job of forgetting than Adam. In my world, Augustus was more of a decorative statue than a blood relative. He didn't care if I died or disappeared.

My joy beat the regret, and hope soon replaced both emotions. For the moment, it was enough to forget that there was no way I should be able to participate in the future my father had foreseen. After all, I was supposed to leave this world when the zombies appeared.

"So what's your plan to combat this then?" I said. If my carefully methodical father knew this was the future, he already had a plan for everything.

My father pulled out a remote, and I watched as he pointed at a wall. The bookshelf parted to reveal a screen. I was slightly disappointed, thinking there would be a secret back room. Instead, there was a flat screen depicting what the building I called home would become when the world ended.