A paper napkin lay on the table in front of him. Frank took it and slowly, methodically, folded it in half, then in half again. Smaller and smaller he folded it until it was the size of a quarter, then he clenched his fist around it, his knuckles protesting against the crush. In the middle of his sunlit kitchen, he closed his eyes. He wanted to go straight to Violet and ask her. After all, maybe he was wrong.

But another, meaner part of him wanted to sit in his hurt and feel it. To stew in self-pity for a while, to lick his wounds and his battered male pride. It was childish, yes, possibly even cruel, but deep in his heart, he felt the betrayal like he was still a hopeful twentysomething, high on love and the future he wanted with Violet.

He didn’t go to Two Sisters that morning, and he didn’t switch on his news program. He sat in his chair at the table until the shadows grew long, mourning the loss of that long-lost future and the woman he’d once—and still—loved.

Thirteen

With nerves jangling like live wires, Violet couldn’t shake the feeling that things were coming loose. Everything had been fine until that first set of fish bones showed up on her top step earlier in the summer. She’d known they were an omen as soon as she saw them, but she tried to ignore that particular feeling in her gut. Then the boat had washed up, the reporter started talking, and now there was the bracelet. Coincidence or connection, she didn’t know, but it sure felt like more than she could handle.

Yesterday she was supposed to have met Tyler at the house to show him where the eight-foot ladder was so he could clean out her gutters, but as she approached the house, she saw a van in her driveway with the words Action 10 News on the side. She drove right on past her wisteria arbor and didn’t stop until her stomach grumbled, signaling she’d missed dinner.

She drove back home, thankful to see the driveway empty, only to find the tiniest set of fish bones yet—barely the length of her thumbnail—sitting on the base of a mason-jar bird feeder hanging from the magnolia in the driveway.

Today she was at the shop, pretending everything was fine, though the way she kept catching Trudy, and even Maya, glancing at her, then quickly averting their eyes, she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Just before lunch, the door to the shop opened and the bell hanging over the door tumbled to the ground in a noisy heap. Violet had startled so badly she cracked her elbow against the corner of the counter. When she turned, rubbing her screaming elbow, it was just Tyler. He scooped up the bell and rehung it, apologizing and smiling at Maya all at the same time.

As Tyler and Maya headed to the back, Trudy nudged Violet’s arm and handed her a slip of paper with raised eyebrows. What’s going on with you?