Chapter 130
At Wendy’s single word—"Alright"—Tommy and Fiona’s eyes lit up instantly, blazing with desperate hope.
She agreed. They were saved. For a fleeting moment, relief surged through them... Only to shatter in the very next second.
"Is that what you were hoping I’d say?" Wendy let out a soft laugh. "I’m not that stupid."
The words fell like a hammer. The three of them froze.
Fiona swallowed hard, her mind refusing to accept what she’d just heard.
"W-Wendy... you’re joking, right? Mom knows you’re still angry... I was wrong... just don’t keep this up..."
Her voice sounded forced, fragile. Wendy was their last lifeline. She couldn’t believe her daughter would be this heartless.
"Who’s joking?" Wendy replied coolly. "I’m completely serious."
She paused, then continued, her tone calm and rational to the point of cruelty, "You think a few soft words will make me come back? What would going back even do for me—besides increase my risk? What benefit is there for me?"
Fiona stared, dumbfounded. "Wendy, how can you say something like that? We’re your family!"
A faint scoff came from the other end.
Family?
Wendy didn’t answer directly. At the end of the day, she wasn’t truly of this family.
She had inherited the original Wendy’s memories—and perhaps a trace of her feelings—but those were built on one condition: That the family treated her well.
And they hadn’t.
If anything, she felt she had already been merciful.
She hadn’t abandoned them immediately after the apocalypse began. Instead, she had prepared enough supplies for them to survive.
But that slap—that single slap—had woken her up completely.
The Kales were fools.
No matter how much she prepared, no matter how much she gave, they would never be grateful.
The only one they truly cared about was Tommy.
Not her.
And worse—they couldn’t even tell right from wrong.
Tommy had invited wolves into their home, and instead of stopping him, George and Fiona had supported him—and even blamed her for fighting back.
In a world like this, it wasn’t powerful enemies that were the most dangerous.
It was incompetent allies.
She would have to be out of her mind to go back to them.
The smartest choice was to stay as far away as possible.
Besides, her life now was far better.
With three fewer mouths to feed, her supplies would last longer. She could live however she pleased, do whatever she wanted.
Freedom.
Security.
Why would she give that up?
"You should give up," Wendy said lightly. "I’m not coming back. What’s happening to you now is the result of your own choices."
A slight pause.
"If you had listened to me back then, would things have turned out like this? Isn’t all of this thanks to your precious Tommy?"
"WENDY!!" George roared, finally snapping.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
First Suzy.
Now Wendy.
His two daughters—neither helping, both watching him fall, even mocking him.
Each word they spoke dragged his past mistakes back into the light, grinding his pride into the dirt.
For the first time, even toward Wendy, resentment began to grow.
"You ungrateful brat! You and Suzy are the same—both animals!" he bellowed. "We raised you all these years and this is how you repay us?! You deserve to be struck down by lightning!"
Fiona, hearing this, felt a flicker of bitter satisfaction. For once, she agreed with him.
Wendy... had become just as heartless.
It had only been a slap. Did it really warrant this level of hatred? Especially when she had struck first.
"Suzy?" Wendy paused slightly at the unfamiliar name.
But she didn’t dwell on it.
George had always disliked Suzy. Now that Wendy had turned against him too, it made sense he’d lump them together.
Still, being called an animal didn’t sit well with her.
And what angered her more was his tone—as if he had done nothing wrong.
As if she was the one at fault.
Whatever faint goodwill Wendy once had toward the Kale family was completely worn away by George’s attitude.
They weren’t just foolish—they were self-righteous, incapable of reflection, and utterly blind to their own faults.
This was nothing like the Kale family she had imagined.
Not even close.
"Think whatever you want," Wendy said coldly. "I’m not coming back to save you. You’re begging for help while talking like that—do you think I’m an idiot? With the way you treated me, you still expect me to risk my life for you? What a joke."
Her voice turned sharp, merciless.
"Without me, people like you wouldn’t last a month in this world. You might as well go die."
And with that, she hung up.
George trembled with rage, his entire body shaking.
Tommy’s face shifted between green and white, but when he realized Wendy’s anger had been directed more at George, he felt a twisted sense of relief.
Still clinging to a shred of naïve hope, he dialed again.
The call didn’t go through.
"...She blocked me."
Fiona felt her vision darken, hatred toward Wendy surging uncontrollably.
"You ungrateful monster! How did I give birth to something like you?!"
George was beside himself with fury, chest heaving violently, his bruised face twisted into something almost feral.
He looked as if he wanted to tear Wendy apart—drink her blood, strip her flesh.
Through the hallway feed, Suzy listened to everything unfolding inside.
She nearly burst out laughing.
Wendy really knows how to hit where it hurts.
George must be furious beyond words. After all, this was the daughter he had once truly favored—her betrayal cut far deeper than anything Suzy could say.
Even without seeing his face, she could imagine the expression.
It must be priceless.
"Looks like getting in touch didn’t help much after all." Margaret’s cold voice carried a trace of mockery.
Then suddenly—
"Wait!" Tommy shouted. "Wendy sent me a message—she messaged me on Whatsapp!"
Not long after blocking his number, Wendy had sent several messages.
Five... six in a row.
He didn’t even know what they contained yet—but the mere fact that she responded felt like hope.
"As long as she’s still willing to contact us, that’s a good sign!" he blurted out quickly.
Then he opened the messages.
Videos.
Several of them.
In the first video, Wendy’s face filled the screen.
Her complexion was rosy, her smile bright—she looked like she had been living very well.
When the volume was turned up, her voice rang out, full of smug satisfaction:
"Look at me—living this comfortably. Why would I go back and make myself miserable for you?"
She flipped the camera, revealing a cozy, warmly decorated bedroom.
Beside the bed stood a small rolling cart, neatly stocked with all kinds of snacks.
Tommy’s eyes instantly reddened. That bitch—she was showing off.
In the second video, Wendy began displaying her supplies.
Deliberately.
Provocatively.
Just to disgust them.
Just to let them see exactly how well she was doing.
"With just me alone, these supplies will last a very long time," she said lightly. "Such a shame... you’ll never get to enjoy any of it."
Tommy’s teeth clenched so hard they nearly cracked.
On the other side, George and Fiona could only hear the audio—they couldn’t see the screen.
Even so, their expressions turned darker and darker.
They knew exactly what Wendy was doing.
This deliberate cruelty—it was even more unbearable than Suzy’s mockery.
More revolting than swallowing a fly.
Because every single one of those supplies had been bought with their money.