Chapter 1

On my eighteenth birthday blowout, my two brothers showed up with a seven-year-old orphan girl.

My big bro Tristan Shelton hauled off and smacked me right in the face over her.

Freddie, my other brother, lost it. "Get the hell out and don't come back!" he yelled.

I didn't say a peep. Just grabbed my bags and split.

They probably thought I was just throwing a fit, that I'd slink back in a couple days.

So they got their peace and took the kid on a dream trip to Shinegale to see the northern lights—the one place I'd always wanted to go.

Weeks later, they came home and got the news: I'd signed up for a ten-year, locked-in medical research gig.

I wasn't coming back. Ever.

That night, they completely broke down.

*****

It was Thanksgiving when I booked my one-way ticket out of Crestwood.

My mentor walked me out of the research institute, his voice steady but kind.

"You leave in a week, Winona," he aid. "Got anyone you need to say goodbye to? Don't put it off."

Spring had hit Crestwood, but it still felt like winter's claws were digging in.

I stood on the sidewalk for ages, breath fogging in the cold, just staring at nothing.

Finally, I manned up and called my brother Freddie.

Twenty-plus years as siblings—even with all the bad blood, we could share one last meal, right?

He hung up. Once. Twice. Three times. Then his phone went dead.

Swallowing my pride, I dialed my older brother, Tristan.

It rang forever before he picked up, like he was doing me a favor.

I rushed my words, scared he'd bail. "Hey, it's Thanksgiving. Can we… maybe have dinner at home?"

The housekeeper was off for the holiday, so I added, "I'll make pumpkin pies—Helen's favorite."

Helen's the kid my brothers adopted.

Tristan's voice was cold as ice. "Helen's still in the hospital because of you. You've got some nerve talking Thanksgiving."

I ignored the dig. "Fine, I'll bake the pies and bring them to the hospital. We could eat there. How's that?"

I'd never groveled like this.

After Helen showed up, I fought with Tristan and Freddie for years.

Never once backed down.

But now… who knew when I'd see them again?

Tristan didn't answer. The silence stretched until Helen's small voice piped up. "Your pumpkin pies are the best, sis."

"Sweet! I'll make 'em and drop by," I said, hanging up quick before they could say no.

The wind stung my eyes as I stood there, phone in hand.

I grabbed ingredients, rushed home to bake, and packed the pies for the hospital.

The hospital room had a tiny table, barely enough for three.

Tristan glanced up as I walked in.

Before he could speak, I grabbed a plate and posted up by the window to eat.

I caught him pause, like he was thrown off, but he shook it off fast, cutting pie for Helen and handing her a fork.

The chairs were hard as hell. Freddie tucked a pillow behind Helen's back.

She was a kid, wild for sweets, and was inhaling pie like it was her job.

She ate too fast and started coughing, her little voice raspy.

I snuck a glance. Freddie was patting her back, and Tristan jumped to grab her water.

They teased her, half-laughing. "Slow down, kiddo. Nobody's stealing your pie."

It hit me hard. That used to be me in Helen's spot.

I stared a beat too long, lost in the memory.

Tristan handed her a glass of water, then caught my gaze.

His eyes, warm and worried a second before, turned to ice when they met mine.

Ouch. That hurt.

I ducked my head, shoving a bite of pie in my mouth to avoid him.

The crust caught in my throat, and I coughed like a fool.

Tristan's voice was flat. "Need water too, or you good?"

My chest tightened, and I choked down the cough.

Their happy chatter kicked back up, the three of them in their own world.

Helen was all smiles, talking through a mouthful.

"Last week in class, we learned about the aurora," she said. "They say you can see it in Shinegale. I wanna go someday!"

Tristan ruffled her hair. "Someday? Let's do it this year. No biggie."

Freddie chuckled. "Yeah, we're both free for the holidays. We'll take you, kid."

My hands shook—maybe the pie tin was too hot, maybe it was something else. I nearly dropped it.

They got so caught up that, in under thirty minutes, they'd booked plane tickets.

Helen squealed, throwing herself into Tristan and Freddie's arms like it was Christmas morning.

Then, out of nowhere, she turned to me, head tilted. "You coming, sis?"

I realized it was time to give Tristan and Freddie a heads-up about my upcoming trip.

So, I just went for it and said, "No worries, I'm set. In a couple of days, I'm hitting the road with Mr. Johnson—"

But Tristan cut me off, his tone sharp. "We don't need your itinerary."

The rest of my words—I might not be back for a while—stuck in my throat. I swallowed them down.

Tristan glanced at me, his face blank. "Oh, and Helen was getting out of the hospital tomorrow.

"You roughed her up pretty bad, so staying elsewhere isn't great. I figured the housekeeper could set up a guest room…"

I cut in softly. "I'll clear out my bedroom for her."

He froze, like he hadn't heard right.

His eyes locked on mine, shock flickering in them. "Wait, what?"