“Uh, yes, hello, I’d like to speak to someone about booking a stay at the bookshop.”

“Oh . . . okay. Well, I’m the owner, Penny Peterson.”

Butterflies fluttered to life in my belly. “Hi, Penny, my name is Evie Starling, and I’d like to book the store for a whole month. Starting Monday. Please tell me that’s doable?”

Three

Alnster, Northumberland

If it weren’t for the slightly darker shade of gray in the line of the horizon, it would have been almost impossible to see where the sky met the sea on my first day in England.

Yet, I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the harbor village I now found myself in. The harbor itself was small, a semicircle carved into the coastline with stone arms curving out to almost meet. There was just enough space in the gap for the small fishing boats to escape out into the sea.

A small rocky beach led up to a pathway, and beyond that pathway to the left was a low stone wall that demarcated where row upon row of individual gardens began.

The gray of the day was broken up by a riot of colorful flowers and plants that blossomed in gardens. In each garden was a wrought-iron gate that led onto the harbor at one end and the street on the other. I gathered the gardens belonged to the terraced houses across the street behind me because small notices on the gates stated they were private.

Looking down at an older couple sitting in a garden that was decked and covered in flowerpots, staring out at the water, I thought how lovely it must be to own one. A place to sit and enjoy the harbor without tourists venturing into their sanctuary.

My eyes moved back to the water as I swayed a little against the large suitcase sitting by my side. As soon as the cab drove past the quaint English cottages and turned with the bend in the road, the water appeared on the horizon before me . . . and I knew.

I knew this was where I was meant to be, and the agitation I’d felt since saying goodbye to Greer finally settled.

“I know you better than you think I do,” Greer had said last night, clutching my elbows as we stood on the sidewalk outside O’Hare. “You feel like I’m abandoning you, don’t you? Now you’re acting insane and running away to England.”

Concern shone dark in her eyes.