“Thank you.” She told herself it was the overwhelming gesture of warmth from the community that made her feel like sitting down and sobbing her heart out. For her whole life she’d felt like a small piece of a jigsaw puzzle that had been dropped on the floor and lost, fitting nowhere. Now she felt as if she’d found her place. A small piece, fitting perfectly into a bigger picture. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she belonged. There were people looking out for her.

The price she had to pay for that was not being with Ryan. She’d thought that was the simple option.

Now she was wondering if it might kill her.

* * *

Emily spent the rest of the day packing boxes with Agnes and picking up texts from various islanders determined to give her a nonstop commentary on what was happening. She was grateful for any activity that stopped her thinking about Ryan.

“The journalist got the car stuck on Pond Bridge and had to walk back down to the harbor.” She gave Agnes an update. “He called a cab.”

Agnes looked interested. “And how did that turn out for him?”

Emily scrolled through her texts. “Not well. Peter told him his cab had been booked all day by a family from Boston, so he tried Larry, but his cab was in the garage having the brakes fixed.”

“It’s a terrible thing that island transport is so bad.”

“Before he left, he went into Summer Scoop and showed Lisa the photograph.”

“Did she bury it deep in vanilla ice cream?”

“No, she said the little girl in the picture looked like Summer. Then she asked if she could keep the photograph because she objected to people taking pictures of her daughter without permission.”

Agnes laughed as she wrapped up two candlesticks. “That was smart of her. And there is just enough of a resemblance between Summer and Lizzy that he might believe it.”

“He asked the Realtor on Main Street if he’d ever heard of Castaway Cottage, and she suggested he try Bar Harbor.”

“That will be Tilly Hobson. She believes houses choose people, not the other way around.” Agnes sealed the box, and Emily scrambled to her feet.

“Don’t lift that. I’ll do it. I’ve met Tilly. I spoke to her a few days ago.”

“You’re looking for property?”

“Yes. It was kind of Brittany to let us use Castaway Cottage, but we can’t stay there forever. We need somewhere of our own, but houses don’t come up that often on Puffin Island.” She lifted the box and stacked it with the others and then heard her phone beep. “That will be Ryan with another update.”

But it turned out to be a text from Brittany, and when Emily read it she sat down on the chair with a thump.