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Chapter1

Ember

Death.

A fun word, right? After all, what other word consisting of five ordinary letters possesses the ability to ground the dreamers, cripple the strong, and bury the hopes of all who hear it? Dramatic? Maybe. Probably. But as I sit here, staring at four stark-white walls boasting various degrees that still didn’t give the man before me the knowledge to save my life, I feel like I’ve earned that right.

The right to be a tad dramatic.

Even if I have no more tears to cry.

Dr. Alexander, a man pushing seventy, closes my file and leans back in his chair. His white hair has lost all its pepper, and his blue eyes appear haunted by failure. “I’m so sorry, Miss Hall. We’ve checked everything and—”

I don’t need him to continue because I’ve heard it all before, using one phrasing or another. Over and over again these past five years, they’ve all said the same thing.

We can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

We’ve run every test.

Triple checked every scan.

I’m so sorry.

There’s nothing more we can do.

Let me refer you to my colleague.

We can make you comfortable.

We can treat the symptoms.

The suffocating lump in my throat grows larger; every breath burns with the force of my grief. My anger. I’d let myself get my hopes up. Let myself believe that even though I’ve been fighting this battle for half a decade, this time, things would be different.

This time, they’d find what was wrong with me.

Boy was I wrong. How damned fitting—a girl with no past lacks a future as well. It all feels so pointless, doesn’t it? So completely and utterly pathetic. After all, what the hell is the point of my life? I haven’t done anything of notoriety.

Never saved a life.

Never fallen in love.

I won’t get a chance to mother the next President or a scientist who can cure diseases like mine.

So what the hell has the point of my life been? I’ll answer that one: there is none. I’m one of the few who literally has no purpose. Fun deck of cards I’ve been dealt. A family who abandoned me, an orphanage who never wanted me, and now a disease that is killing me.

One, two, three, and the blows just keep on coming. My gaze drifts out the window to the people laughing and strolling through the park across the street.

A couple sits beneath the shade of a thick, towering tree, enjoying what looks to be a picnic lunch while their kids run and play near a pond dotted with different colored ducks. The serene scene should make me smile. Instead, I’m filled with an overwhelming jealousy that just pisses me off.

Forcing my attention away, I scan the park, doing a double-take when I see the massive wall of muscle standing on the other side of the street, staring directly toward the office. Cars pass, but he remains on the sidewalk, staring. My pulse hammers as my throat goes dry.Holy cow, that man is gorgeous.And half-naked.

Tan skin stretches across muscles I didn’t even know could exist—you couldliterallywash clothes on those abs. Was he running? I crane my neck around to try and get a better look; I mean, I may be dying, but I’m not dead, yet. And something about him is almost—familiar? I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before—

Dr. Alexander tilts his head, obscuring my view. “Miss Hall? Ember?”

“Huh?” I stretch out further, only to see that the man is already gone, likely finishing his run toward some gorgeous girlfriend who is just as healthy as he is. Ugh, I’m being such a downer I’m even annoying myself.

“Ember,” he says my name again, so I swallow hard and refocus entirely.

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