Chapter 1

"I'm sure about this. I want to volunteer."

Ava Williams looked the man across the desk in the eye, her voice steady. The program director for the international aid mission, a man with tired eyes and a kind face, leaned back in his chair.

"This isn't a vacation, Ms. Williams. It's a two-year commitment in a conflict zone. It's dangerous, and the conditions are rough."

He gave her a searching look.

"I understand," Ava said, her hands resting calmly in her lap. "That's why I'm here."

Inside, her heart was a mess, but she wouldn't let it show. She had to do this.

The director nodded slowly, seeming to accept her resolve. "Alright. The team departs in one week. We'll send you the final details."

Ava stood, shook his hand, and walked out of the office. The hallway was quiet. She stepped out of the building and onto the busy city street. The afternoon sun was bright, but she felt cold. A fire truck screamed past, its siren wailing.

The sound hit her like a physical blow.

Suddenly, she wasn't on a New York street anymore. She was a child again, surrounded by smoke and heat. The smell of burning wood filled her nose, and the roar of the flames was deafening. She was small, helpless, trapped in her collapsing home.

The fire had taken her parents. She remembered the ceiling groaning, a heavy beam crashing down. She had screamed, thinking she was next.

Then, a figure burst through the smoke and fire. A young man, barely more than a boy himself, his face smudged with soot, his eyes wild with fear.

"Ava!"

It was Liam. He scooped her into his arms, shielding her head with his body as he ran back out into the night. He held her tight, his uniform rough against her cheek, and whispered, "It's okay. I've got you. I'll always have you."

That promise became the foundation of her world.

Her parents and Liam's parents had been best friends since college. The Williams family was like a second family to her. After the fire, it was only natural that they took her in. Liam, her brave older brother, became her legal guardian.

He was five years older than her. She never called him "brother," though. It was always just "Liam."

Liam spoiled her. Anything she wanted, she got. If she even looked at a cake in a shop window for too long, he'd buy it for her. He taught her how to ride a bike, helped her with homework, and scared away any boy who tried to get too close. He was her protector, her confidant, her everything.

As she grew up, the gratitude and dependence she felt for him slowly, quietly changed into something else. Something deeper. She fell in love with the man who had saved her, who had raised her.

On the night of her eighteenth birthday, she had too much to drink. Buoyed by cheap champagne and the foolish courage of youth, she found him in the study. She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind as he sat at his desk.

"Liam," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. "I love you."

He froze. The warmth in his body vanished. He gently but firmly pried her arms off him and stood up, turning to face her. His expression was cold, something she had never seen before.

"Ava, you're drunk."

"I'm not," she insisted, her heart starting to pound. "I love you. Not like a sister."

"Stop it," he said, his voice sharp. "I am your brother. Your guardian. Don't ever say that again."

He called her Ava. He only ever called her Ava when he was truly angry.

"But we're not related by blood!" she cried, the words tumbling out. "You promised you'd always have me!"

"That's not what I meant," he said, his face a mask of disappointment. "This is just a childish crush. You need to grow up."

"It's not a crush!" she shouted, tears welling in her eyes. "I love you!"

He didn't answer. He just turned and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her shattered heart. After that night, a wall went up between them. He started keeping his distance.

She went away to college in another state, hoping the space would either fix things or help her move on. It did neither. The distance only made the ache worse. They saw each other less, only during holidays or long weekends.

But she didn't give up. Every time she came home, on his birthday, on Christmas, she would find a moment, a quiet corner, and tell him again.

"I still love you, Liam."

And every time, without hesitation, he would shut her down. "Ava, stop. It's never going to happen."

His rejection was a constant, painful beat in the rhythm of her life.

Another year passed. Her own birthday was approaching. She had decided this year would be different. She wouldn't confess. She wouldn't push. She would just try to enjoy the day, to be the sister he wanted her to be.

But he brought someone home.

Her name was Sophia Miller. She was a lawyer, beautiful and sophisticated, with a confident smile that never faltered. Liam introduced her as his fiancée.

The word hit Ava with the force of a physical impact. She felt the air leave her lungs. She watched them together, saw the way he looked at Sophia, a look of open affection he had never given her. It was a look that said, this is the normal, proper path.

That night was the worst of her life. Her bedroom was next to Liam's. The walls were thin. She lay in the dark, listening to the soft murmur of their voices, the sound of laughter, then the creak of his bed.

She heard Sophia's soft moans, sounds of intimacy that were like a thousand tiny cuts on her soul.

Ava pulled the pillow over her head, but she couldn't block it out. She cried until she couldn't breathe, her body shaking with silent, wracking sobs.

Sometime before dawn, as the first grey light filtered through her window, the crying stopped. An eerie calm settled over her. She knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that it was over. The hope she had clung to for so long was finally, completely dead.

She had to leave.