“You ask him the next time you see him, okay?” Emily smiled. She’d been having such a lovely time with Andrew she didn’t even notice the ferry had slowed and was now docking in Nantucket.

If she closed her eyes tightly enough, Emily could almost imagine she was just another Nantucket tourist. If she stopped her mind from wandering, she could almost believe it was her first time on the island, her first time seeing in real life what she’d only seen in photos—the cobblestone streets, the gray Shaker homes with big bushes of purplish-blue hydrangeas out front, the rows of brightly colored Vespas for rent, the lighthouses that beckoned weary travelers to come and rest here.

Nantucket made promises, but in her experience, the island didn’t make good on them.

What she wouldn’t give for this to be her first time.

But it wasn’t, was it?

She glanced into her big, floppy bag, the one where she’d stuffed all the necessities, including the haphazardly assembled book of letters, worn with years of handling. Sometimes just touching it was enough to make her mother feel close, almost like she had a magic lamp she could rub and see her wishes come true.

But as she placed her hand on the tattered, hand-decorated cover, even her mom felt far away.

It was as if her presence had been pulled out of the book the second the island came into view. As if even her mother’s memory wanted to forget.

All around her, other passengers were gathering their things, anxious to get the season started on the island. But Emily stayed in her seat, dazed and maybe kind of motion sick. Or perhaps the nausea had nothing to do with the boat ride at all.

If she were smart, she would’ve approached Nantucket the way she would a two-day-old Band-Aid.

One quick rip and it would all be over.

If only . . .

“You’re getting off, aren’t you?” Andrew stood in front of her now, his red-and-yellow tiny-person backpack wrapped around both of his shoulders, a red baseball cap doing its best to tame his unruly chocolate-colored hair.

“I’m thinking about it,” Emily said with a smile.

“You like it here, don’t you?”

Ooh. A trick question. What was she going to tell the kid? That this island had stolen everything from her and she was only back here because she had absolutely no other option? His mother would probably call the police.

“Yes, it’s very lovely,” she finally said. It wasn’t a lie, not really. Nantucket was lovely. At least it was for other people.

“I love this place,” Andrew said. “Here.” He held out his fist and gave it a shake.

She held her hand out underneath his and he dropped a smooth white rock into it.