Chapter 1

The rotors thrashed the air, a desperate sound in the collapsing city.

"Evie, damn it, wake up!"

Ethan' s voice, tight with fury, cut through the fog in her head.

His hands were rough on her shoulders, shaking her hard.

She blinked, the scene sickeningly familiar, the stench of jet fuel and fear, the shouts of the Marine guards at the U.S. Embassy compound.

The last transport helicopter. Krystal.

"She's almost here, Evie! Tell them to wait! Use your father's name!" Ethan urged, his face close, eyes darting towards the embassy gates.

Krystal, his mistress, was late again, probably fixing her makeup for her "survivor" selfie.

A cold wave washed over Evie. Not fog, but clarity.

She had lived this exact moment before.

And died because of it.

Flashback: The heat, the screams, the missed helicopter.

Ethan' s insistence. "We have to wait for Krys, Evie. She's family."

Family. Krystal, his college girlfriend he' d passed off as a distant cousin needing "life experience" on this humanitarian mission.

They missed the last official flight.

Later, chaos. A promised clandestine extraction, a small, unmarked plane.

Ethan' s hand on her arm, a needle prick she barely registered.

Then, the world tilting, her words slurring.

He' d told the extraction team she was delirious, a security risk, hysterical from the fighting.

They' d believed him, her loving, concerned husband.

They left her behind.

She remembered the cold seeping into her bones in some bombed-out building, the infection taking hold, then nothing.

Later, she learned-a strange, detached knowing that came with this rebirth-Ethan had returned to the States a hero.

He spun a tale of Evie' s noble sacrifice, pushing Krystal onto that plane instead of herself.

Her parents, already frail, had shattered.

Mr. Reed, her powerful, loving father, and her gentle mother, gone within months of each other, grief their final illness.

Ethan inherited everything. The Reed fortune, the foundation, the philanthropic empire.

He married Krystal a year later, a lavish affair splashed across society pages.

The memory, sharp and brutal, burned away the last vestiges of her past life's naivety.

This time, there would be no sacrifice.

Only justice.

Evie pulled away from Ethan' s grasp, her voice surprisingly steady, cold.

"No, Ethan."

"What?" His eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief.

"I'm getting on that helicopter. Now." She stated it simply.

She turned towards the loading ramp where a Marine sergeant was waving people through.

The other aid workers, a mix of doctors and nurses, looked stressed but were moving.

This was her team, people she respected, people Ethan had endangered.

"Evie, don't be ridiculous!" Ethan hissed, grabbing her arm again. "Krystal is my cousin! We can't just leave her!"

He raised his voice, playing to the small crowd of remaining evacuees.

"My wife is just upset, a little disoriented. Of course, we wait for Krystal!"