Her eyes pricked with tiredness. Despite the coffee, her head felt foggy. It had been a long couple of weeks, and then there had been the funeral a few days before. More cameras. More questions. The exhausting, never-ending attention from people who didn’t know her or care about her.

But now she could put that behind her.

Soon she’d be safe behind the gates of Otter’s Nest.

How many memories would be waiting for her? That was something else she hadn’t allowed herself to think about.

Mel and Greg.

Nate.

No. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, think about Nate. Not yet.

She swallowed the last mouthful of her coffee and tucked the flask back into her backpack.

With a last look at the ocean, she slid back into the car and continued north, winding her way up the coast until dawn sent spikes of color across the darkened sky.

It had been years, and yet she knew this last stretch of the journey so well. Each curve in the road, the sight of towering redwoods, the dramatic plunge of steep cliffs.

And then there it was, the turning to Otter’s Nest, concealed from view between tall trees. There was no sign, nothing to indicate the presence of such an extraordinary property, an intentional security measure rather than an oversight, and if you didn’t already know exactly where it was you’d miss the turning.

Joanna knew.

She turned onto the private access road, following it until she reached a set of large gates. They added another layer of privacy. From this angle you still couldn’t see the beach house.

She pressed the button and the gates swung open, revealing another sweep of driveway studded by small solar lights.

The gates closed behind her and she parked in front of the house.

Ashley was still asleep so Joanna took advantage of the moment to take her first proper look at Otter’s Nest.

From here the place looked unassuming, but that didn’t concern her. She knew that all the wow factor would be at the front. The house was built into the slope, the design making the most of space, light and the incredible ocean views.

She unlocked the door, turned off the alarm and slid off her shoes.

She stood for a moment, braced and wary. She waited for the memories to come for her, like an intruder lying in wait. Waited for the past to slide stealthily back into her present.

But there was nothing. She felt nothing.

Flooded with relief, she felt her muscles relax. She’d been dreading this moment, but it was obvious to her now that painful memories had been destroyed along with the original home. Rotten wood, cracked glass, bitter memories. Everything had been removed. There were no reminders. Not a trace of familiarity, except for the land itself and the beach, of course. Always the beach.