If Natalie ever got cornered by the authorities, she would definitely drag Braxton and Tiffany down with her—there was no way she'd let them walk free while she took the fall. That's why skipping town was the smartest move. Meanwhile, Natalie had just finished dinner at home and sneezed twice in a row. "Who's talking about me behind my back?" Lucky heard her sneeze and quietly scooted farther away, lifting her butt and shuffling across the floor. Hope my owner isn't catching a cold ... I don't want to get sick! Natalie noticed her little move and got annoyed. "Wow! You heartless mutt, you think you can just avoid me?" She scooped Lucky up and smothered the dog’s face with kisses.Lucky squeezed her eyes shut and weakly pushed at Natalie with her paws. After some roughhousing, Natalie set Lucky down and headed over to the window to soak up some sunshine and recharge. If she really was getting sick, a little sun and sweat might help boost her energy. By tomorrow afternoon, the temperature would start climbing—The Great Heat was coming. After that, catching some sun would be impossible. As she walked to the window, she spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. Looking closer, she realized it was Braxton. He was carrying a backpack, taking tiny steps, and kind of waddling like he was trying not to move his hips too much. Natalie almost laughed out loud. What's up with this guy? Did he work so hard he gave himself an injury? She remembered that last time The Great Heat hit, Braxton got heatstroke and suffered for days—barely surviving in the end.But this time, he wouldn't be so lucky. Heatstroke would be the last thing he ever suffered through. She'd tortured him enough—it was almost time to send him and Tiffany on their way. The next day, Natalie was doing Pilates in front of the window as usual when she suddenly saw Tiffany downstairs, dragging a backpack and two suitcases. Natalie stopped right away. What's going on? Ever since Tiffany lost her mind, she'd just giggled and stumbled around, never walking straight. But now she was calmly hauling two suitcases out the door. Natalie watched carefully and quickly realized— Tiffany had gotten her mind back. Looks like she's trying to get out of here.Yesterday, Braxton had also left the complex with a backpack. Natalie didn't know why they were splitting up or why Tiffany was stuck with all the luggage. But if they think they can run, they're dead wrong. I was planning to toy with these two rats for a while, but now they're trying to slip out of my hands? Natalie glanced up at the blazing red sun. It's hot enough—time to send them off. Luckily, she'd already changed out of her pajamas and into workout clothes, so she didn't need to change. She slipped on her shoes at the door, grabbed her bayonet, and ran after Tiffany. Tiffany's injuries hadn't healed yet, so she wasn't moving fast. Dragging her suitcases, she cursed Braxton in her head. What a pain! Natalie's about to get busted, and instead of sticking around to watch the drama, Braxton insists on running off. Now I have to haul all this stuff out to him. If the cops come and take Natalie away while I'm gone, I'll miss the whole show! Grumbling as she hurried along, she didn't notice someone quietly following her. Greenwood Complex. A black SUV sped through piles of trash and rotting bodies, coming to a stop in front of an apartment building. A man in a suit stepped out of the driver's seat. He quickly walked to the back and opened the door for someone else. A long, straight leg stepped out first, followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man. It was Roderick and Cassian. Roderick shut the car door. "Mr. Holland, thanks for making the detour to my place. You could've waited in the car—I'll just grab my stuff real quick." Cassian adjusted his clothes. "No problem. I could use the exercise." With that, he strode toward the building entrance. Roderick thought to himself, Boss is something else. Got bored with his treadmill and stair machine at home, so now he's coming to our side of town to climb real stairs. Just as he was thinking this, he saw Cassian heading for the wrong building and quickly called out. "Mr. Holland, it's not that one—it's the next building over." Cassian stopped, turned sharply, and walked toward the right building. "Next time, tell me sooner." Roderick had no reply. With those long legs, you were halfway there before I could say a word!He hurried to catch up. "Mr. Holland, slow down—my place is on the seventh floor, Unit 702." When they reached the apartment, they saw the front door busted open, lying broken on the floor. No one was inside, but the place had been completely ransacked. Roderick had expected this—he'd already moved anything valuable to his villa on the hill. He'd just left behind some clothes, shoes, and everyday stuff in the rush. Little things, like a sewing kit—Nadia always complained about not having one when she needed it.