Opening her hand, she caught his quick gasp when he saw the bracelet. The careful, almost reverent way he picked it up and set it in his palm told her all she needed to know: He had a history with it. This small gold circle engraved with birds meant something to him. He stared at it, looked over his shoulder, then walked straight toward an older woman in the Two Sisters booth wearing red glasses on a chain around her neck and a short-sleeved denim shirt.

Standing next to the older woman was one much younger, with long dark hair and beautiful tawny skin. As soon as her eyes locked onto Liza’s, Liza knew her time there was done. Not just at the festival, but at the newspaper. In Sugar Bend. She’d write her final article, then she’d be gone.

Liza found herself walking back to her car, parked at the edge of the festival, her heart lighter than it had been in months. Maybe years. As she walked she tipped her face up and inhaled the salty-sweet breeze. Even if she didn’t yet know where she did belong, it was nice to know where she didn’t.

* * *

Violet stood stock-still as Frank walked toward her, but before he reached her, Justin touched his elbow and spoke to him. Next to Violet, Maya stood close, hovering, her gaze heavy on Violet’s cheek. She asked Violet something, but all Violet heard was a hum, like the split second before the power goes out. In her peripheral vision she saw Maya speak to Trudy, who then turned toward Violet.

Before they could stop her, Violet grabbed two half-empty boxes and hurried out of the tent and down the street toward Two Sisters. The street party was in full swing now, with food trucks parked haphazardly on sidewalks and curbs, dancers twirling in couples and small groups, and both bands throwing their chords and harmonies into the wind, which whipped signs and posters and banners to bits.

When she finally made it through the crowd and back to the shop, she paused and took a deep, steadying breath. For a minute she busied herself, unloading and stacking and neatening, as she tried to quiet her stampeding heart.

Breaking down the now-empty boxes, she caught a reflection in the front window. Frank stood in the doorway, the golden glint of the bracelet in his hand. “It was Jay Malone.”

“What?” Her voice wobbled in her throat.

“You told me there was someone else.” It wasn’t anger in his voice or hatred or pain. Just a breath of sadness that nearly crushed her. “It was Jay Malone, wasn’t it?”

She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, unable to speak.

“Your bracelet was in his boat. This bracelet.” He held out his hand. “The one I gave you. You loved him, didn’t you?”

Sadness creased his brow just as a hot spark of anger flared in Violet’s chest. But it died away quickly. The time for anger was gone. “Do you know what kind of man he was?”