Chapter 1The Angel's Lie

Ten years ago, my twin sister, Lily, helped me get a date with the boy I was in love with. Then she started dating him herself.

Later, when she was dying of acute leukemia, I was her only perfect match for a bone marrow transplant.

The day the final test results came in, I calmly signed the official form to decline the donation.

My mother collapsed on the spot. She slapped me so hard the world spun.

“Chloe! Are you insane? That’s your sister!”

My father pointed a shaking finger in my face, his whole body trembling with rage.

“How did we raise a monster like you?”

And Ethan Archer, the man whose name filled every page of my high school diaries, asked me in anguish, “Chloe, why won’t you save her?”

Ten years later, on the Fourth of July, with the sky over the Washington Monument about to burst into a sea of fireworks, Ethan came back.

At the pinnacle of that national celebration, he held out a diamond ring.

“Chloe,” he said. “Marry me.”

* * *

The tips of my fingers were ice-cold.

Ethan was on one knee, surrounded by the roar of the crowd and the flash of a hundred cell phone cameras. He wore a tailored black coat that made him look solid and dependable, his features sharp and deep-set. A decade in the service had carved the boyishness from his face, leaving behind a man who was more handsome than I remembered.

But the eyes looking up at me held none of the love I had once dreamed of seeing there. There was only the silent, deep water of a calm ocean.

Isn’t it ironic?

Ten years ago, my twin sister, Lily, had squeezed my hand, her own eyes shining as she described this exact scene.

“Chloe, when Ethan gets back from his deployment, he’s going to propose to me right on the National Mall! Everyone will be there to celebrate with us!”

“You have to be my maid of honor, promise?”

Now, she was in the ground, and I was standing here, the reluctant star of her favorite fantasy.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from the hospital’s surgical unit. Urgent.

I steadied myself, pushing aside the hand that held the ring.

“I have an emergency surgery tonight.”

Ethan’s posture stiffened for a fraction of a second before he smoothed it over. He stood, taking my hand and forcing the ring into my palm. The metal, warm from his skin, dug painfully into my flesh.

“Chloe, don’t do this.”

His tone was flat. Not a request, but a statement. An order.

“We’re getting married. It was Lily’s last wish.”

There it was again. Lily. It was always, always about Lily.

I looked down at the diamond in my hand and let out a soft, bitter laugh.

“Fine.”

“I’ll marry you, Ethan.”

With that, I turned and pushed my way out of the crowd, leaving the sudden eruption of cheers and astonished murmurs behind me.

But the voices followed me, little ghosts nipping at my heels.

“Oh my God, isn’t that Major Ethan Archer? The war hero? He’s even hotter in person!”

“Wait, didn’t his fiancée die years ago? Who is that?”

“I think that’s her sister… Wow. Swooping in on your dead sister’s fiancé. Classy.”

It was three in the morning when I finally got home.

The surgery was a success, but I felt no joy, only a weariness that had settled deep into my bones. I pulled off my scrubs and stared at my pale reflection in the bathroom mirror before dialing my parents’ number.

“Mom, Dad.”

“Ethan and I are getting married.”

A long, dead silence stretched across the line.

Then, my mother’s hysterical scream.

“Chloe! Have you no soul? How dare you!”