Chapter 1
“Stay away from my daughter.”
My voice was low.
But under the golden chandeliers, every guest in the ballroom heard me.
The barefoot boy froze three feet from Ava’s wheelchair.
His hand was half-raised toward her.
Dust marked his cheeks.
His shirt hung too large on his thin shoulders.
His pants were torn above the ankles.
His bare feet looked painfully wrong against the polished marble floor.
But he did not move closer.
He lowered his hand.
“I won’t hurt her,” he said quietly.
I stepped in front of Ava anyway.
For four years, I had watched my daughter live inside pain.
Four years since the accident.
Four years since doctors told me she might never walk again.
Four years since every room in our house had changed shape around her wheelchair.
And now some unknown boy from nowhere had walked into my charity gala and reached for her like he had a right.
Ava looked up at him.
She was twelve now, but grief had made her older in the eyes.
Her pink dress was folded neatly over her knees.
Her fingers rested on the wheels of her chair.
She looked tired.
Not sleepy.
Tired the way children look when adults have already decided what their lives can no longer be.
The boy glanced at me.
“May I ask her something?”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Ava touched my sleeve.
“Dad.”
I looked down.
She nodded slowly.
My heart tightened.
I stepped back half an inch.
The boy looked only at her.
Not at the chandeliers.
Not at the guests.
Not at me.
“Ava,” he whispered, “do you want to try?”
The ballroom went silent.
My daughter’s fingers tightened around the arms of her wheelchair.
Fear filled her face.
Then hope.
That terrified me more.
“No,” I whispered. “Please.”
But Ava reached for the boy’s hand.
He took it gently with both of his.
She leaned forward.
Her arms shook.
Her breath caught.
Then my daughter pushed herself up.
For one impossible second, she stood.
Her legs trembled beneath her.
She nearly fell.
The boy caught her waist and steadied her.
A woman in the crowd gasped.
My hand rose to my mouth.
I could not breathe.
Ava stood in front of me for the first time in four years.
“How?” I whispered.
Ava looked at me, crying through the smallest smile.
May you like
The boy looked at her like he had carried this secret across fire.
“Because she asked me to come,” he said.
