“There’s only one thing I’ve been wishing for, and you’ve given it to me,” he said, reaching for her left hand, the diamond winking in the sun. Celeste smiled, her stomach tightening. “We need to start making some plans, though. Have you given any thought to who should officiate? And where you want to have the ceremony?”

“I haven’t,” she said, feeling like the world’s most delinquent bride-to-be.

“Maybe Clifford Henry could officiate? He did a great job at Tom and Aaron’s wedding last summer.”

She nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

“And we need to figure out the guest list. You really should invite your sister, you know.”

“Oh, Jack. Don’t start with that. I doubt she’ll even be out here in August. I’m going to sign the paperwork she wants. Hopefully, that will set a good example for Gemma and she’ll do the same. I just want Elodie to tell her where the ring is . . . for closure. And then we can all move on.” Herself especially. The past few days she’d allowed herself the small hope that maybe the ring was somehow gone, and that’s why Elodie was being evasive. If it was out of the family, she was in the clear. She would be free of the curse.

“Celeste, that competition was a lifetime ago. I think everyone has moved on. You’re holding on to the past.”

It was low tide and the receding water left a band of stones and shells. An older man with linen pants rolled up to his knees picked through them, collecting some into a reusable shopping bag.

She turned to Jack. “The past just showed up on our doorstep. I’m doing the best I can.”

It was hard for her not to think of the time when Paulina had been the one to show up on her doorstep.

Celeste had just moved to Provincetown a few weeks earlier, and she and Nathan were just settling into their rooms at the Barroses. They had a routine meeting every morning for coffee in the kitchen, served by Mrs. Barros, along with homemade Portuguese rolls. Then they went off to work, Celeste at an antiques shop, Nathan at his writing space. At the end of the day, they met up again for drinks before heading home together.

One night, they reached the house sometime close to nine and spotted a couple on the second-story deck. It was just about dark out, only a faint stripe of fading pink in the sky, endless stars, and a bright three-quarter moon. Celeste remembered the way light seemed to play tricks with them at that hour; the couple on the porch seemed to radiate their own glow. They didn’t see Celeste and Nathan approach, they were so wrapped around each other, kissing in a way that felt obscene to have stumbled upon.

That’s when Celeste recognized the unmistakable long blond hair.

“Paulina?”