“Right. I’ll add that to my ever-growing list,” she said, typing it into her phone. “See y’all later!”

As Colleen watched her little sister disappear down the sidewalk, she couldn’t help but be proud of her. Having a child so young couldn’t be easy, and she admired how she’d handled it. She was a great mother, and she was going to be an amazing wife too.

Emma stood at the top of the lighthouse. She stared off into the ocean, her thoughts a mixture of gratitude and sadness. Disappointment in herself and hope for a better future. It was quite a dichotomy.

Her grandmother, for all the trouble she’d caused in her life, had given her a good piece of advice once. “Emma,” she’d said, “Life is going to throw rocks at you one day. At first, they’re going to nail you right in that pretty face of yours. You’ll have scars and pain from it, but next time you’ll know to put your hands up. Because, after all, nobody wants life to beat them up and make them look ugly for the rest of their days. When life throws rocks, for goodness sakes, put your hands up and fight.”

Moving to Seagrove was her way of fighting. Maybe others would consider it running away, just like her boyfriend did. But, for her it meant preserving her sanity. Giving her room to breathe again. Getting out of the spotlight that she’d found herself in unwillingly.

She watched a bird fly overhead, and a feeling of loneliness washed over her. She knew no one on this island, apart from Henrietta and Roger. And, unless she wanted to join the local senior center, she doubted those two people would be her new best friends.

A part of her wanted to find new friends. She was only forty years old, after all. She wasn’t retired. She needed interaction. But the other larger part of her said no. She didn’t need anyone who would ask questions or judge her. She’d had quite enough of that.

Just as she was about to make her way down the stairs and into the cottage for an early dinner, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She usually didn’t answer it, but she couldn’t say no when it was her only real friend, Caroline.

They’d met when they were in kindergarten, and the only person who’d really been there for her over the last year was Caroline. From burying her grandmother, to the day she wanted to forget, her friend had tried so hard to be her rock. “Hello?”

“Emma? Thank goodness! I’ve been worried sick about you! Where on earth are you? Steve said you took your things and left?”

“That’s right.”

Caroline paused a moment, like she was unsure of what to say. “Honey, are you okay? Tell me where you are so I can come to you.”

“I… can’t.”

“What do you mean? Is somebody holding you?”