Chapter 1

In the dim light, I stared blankly at the ring of teeth marks on Andy Croft’s shoulder.

Fresh red scratches from a woman’s nails ran down Andy’s back.

It hurt to look at them.

Just then, the phone on the nightstand lit up. I instinctively glanced over.

A flood of photos appeared in a message thread from someone saved as “Rach”.

In front of the crystal-clear waters of the Celestial Isles, Andy had an arm around Rachel Walser’s shoulders. He was grinning without a care in the world.

I remembered the day Andy proposed to me. He had dropped to one knee on the beach and said, “Olivia, when I can afford it, I’ll give you a grand proposal ceremony again in the Celestial Isles.”

Three years had passed since then.

I scrolled through the photos. Each one sent a fresh stab of pain through my chest.

Three months earlier, when I was running a free medical outreach clinic in a remote mountain community, Andy was embracing and kissing Rachel beneath the snow-covered peaks of Wintermere.

I remembered how fiercely the blizzard had raged that night.

I had braved the freezing cold and climbed halfway up the mountain to a communications tower just to call and tell him I was safe.

With nothing but a lightweight shell jacket to protect me, my fingers had gone completely numb.

His belated text finally arrived well after midnight.

“Olivia, I’m away on business. The reception here is terrible.”

Every landmark in those photos was a place we had once pinned together on the map on our phones.

Yet, he had taken another woman to every destination we had dreamed of visiting together.

By the time I reached the final photo, the last ounce of my strength seemed to leave my body.

In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, Andy stood in a bathrobe with Rachel wrapped in his arms.

Reflected in the mirror behind them was our engagement portrait hanging on the wall.

I spotted the date. My eyes immediately began to burn.

December 5.

That was the day I had miscarried from sheer exhaustion and lay in a hospital bed after undergoing a D&C.

Through the phone, Andy’s voice had been thick with tears.

“Oli, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t be by your side when you needed me the most.”

However, he had been right across town and sleeping with his ex-girlfriend in our home.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but my tears caught in my throat and sent me into a fit of coughing.

Andy suddenly rolled over and habitually wrapped an arm around me.

A wave of nausea surged through me.

I instinctively tried to pull free from his embrace.

His breath reeked of alcohol. He murmured drowsily, “Rach, stop.”

My struggling hand froze.

Andy’s hand rested on my waist. His thumb absently brushed over my lower abdomen.

Ever since the D&C, the gesture had become a habit.

It was just like all those countless nights when he had held me as we fell asleep.

My fingertips grazed the scars along his arm.

I closed my eyes as tears slipped from the corners.

The memory of Andy carrying me out of the burning building was still painfully vivid.

But deep down, I knew there was no going back for us.

In the darkness, my phone vibrated with a new message.

“This is wonderful news, Olivia! It would be our honor to have someone of your extraordinary gifts join us. It gives us hope that your rare healing legacy will live on. We’ll send a team to Southvale to pick you up three days later.”