What Inspired Elizabeth Kolbert Author To Write About Climate Change?

Ronan Hale is the school’s golden boy… captain of the ice hockey team, talented, confident… and infuriatingly arrogant. After two years away, he’s back, but the glory on the ice can’t hide the fact that he’s failing every class. If he doesn’t pass, he could lose everything. The only person who can save him? Ivy Cross… the quiet, intelligent girl no one notices. She’s smart, strong, and completely unimpressed by his fame… which only makes him more frustrated, and somehow, more drawn to her. Tutoring him should be simple. It’s not. Every session sparks arguments, stolen glances, and tension neither can ignore. Beneath his arrogance, Ivy sees cracks in his walls.. pain, guilt, and secrets he’s desperate to hide. Hate turns to desire. Rivalry becomes something more. And for Ronan and Ivy, falling for each other might only be the beginning…

The day my parents divorced, the rain wouldn’t stop. Two agreements sat on the table. One meant staying in the old Eastwood District with my gambling-addicted father, Alexander Clark, drowning in debt. The other meant leaving for Silverstrand Coast with my mother, Charlotte Hayes, who was remarrying into wealth. In my last life, my younger brother, Mathias Clark, cried and clung to Mom while I quietly packed my things and chose to stay with Dad. Later, he quit gambling and struck it rich during a redevelopment boom. He poured everything into raising me right. Meanwhile, Mathias was trapped in his stepfather’s house—isolated, controlled, never allowed outside—until depression took his life. But this time, everything changed. Mathias snatched the cigarette from Dad’s hand and hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. "Tyler, I feel bad for Dad. You go enjoy the good life over there. I’ll stay and take care of him for you." Dad froze for a moment, then smiled with relief and patted his shoulder. I said nothing. I simply picked up the train ticket to the coast. What he didn’t know was that… In my last life, the reason Dad was able to quit gambling was because I had a brain tumor. I worked myself to the brink of coughing up blood just to repay his debts. I traded my life… for his redemption.

Just when I was about to step through airport security for my Around-the-World trip, I heard the twins in my womb, a boy and a girl, shouting. 'Mom! Can you stop thinking about going to have fun? The whole world is going to become a frozen block of ice in a month! You're still thinking about flying around at a time like this? Don't be silly!' 'My brother's right! Hurry home and stock up on food and medicine already! Renovate our mansion! Turn the garden into food storage! Turn the swimming pool into a reservoir!' My heart skipped a beat, and the milk in my hand spilled all over the floor. The passenger behind me urged me impatiently, "Can you hurry up? You're holding everyone up." I ignored him. Instead, I turned around and called my assistant. I also gave him another order. "Get me ten thousand pounds of grains and five thousand pounds of pork belly. The ones with the skin on. I want them now!" From that moment on, Kirsten, the woman in Harbor City who only knew how to burn money and fly all over the world, changed. She became Kirsten, ruler of the frozen wasteland.

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

In my first life, I believed love was salvation. I tore my future apart for two men who had grown up beside me—Marcus Black and Damian Knight. I chose one of them, only to be abandoned on my wedding day for Elena Rivers. My grandmother died that same day, shattered by grief. When I was at my lowest, the other man took my hand and promised he would never betray me. I believed him. I married him. And slowly, my world went cold. I thought his distance was regret. I thought my failing health was fate. Until the night I was dying, and I watched him run past me—to save Elena, whose injuries were nothing more than a scratch. That was when I understood. My life had never been a love story. It was a carefully scripted game. After my death, I learned the truth: Marcus and Damian had already written their wills, leaving everything to Elena Rivers. They had sabotaged my education, manipulated my career, and even fabricated a chronic illness to keep me weak, dependent, and easy to control. They never wanted me to succeed. They only wanted me quiet—so Elena could shine. But fate gave me another chance. This time, I tore up my admission letter to Harvard. This time, I rejected their confessions before they could cage me again. In this life, I will not be the woman they use, betray, or discard. I will live for myself. And I will never walk the same path twice.