Thirty days into the deep freeze apocalypse, Scott asked me to marry him. I said yes. We had been together for five years, and with the world freezing to death around us, I wanted one thing before the end came. I wanted God to recognize us as husband and wife before we took our last breaths. But on our wedding day, Scott arrived with a group of men. Then he tore away my veil, stripped me naked in front of them, and traded me for a few drums of diesel fuel. Was that really how my life was supposed to end? When I opened my eyes again, I found myself ninety days before the deep freeze apocalypse began. I had been given a second chance. And so had Scott. The difference was that he still thought I was the same Sandy he had known before. The woman who gave him everything she had and still worried she wasn't doing enough. So I let him sweet-talk me out of my savings. I watched him gamble everything on stockpiling supplies until an entire warehouse was filled to the ceiling. And while he was busy preparing for the future he thought belonged to him, all I had to do was wait until the day before the apocalypse arrived and sign my own name on every delivery receipt.