It had never bothered me before, asking my family to come to LA or some other destination for the holidays. But now, being back on Anchor, seeing all that I’d taken my parents and brother away from on Christmas, I felt like a selfish ass. “Yeah. I usually fly them down there, or sometimes we do Hawaii or Mexico.”

Bell’s face screwed up in an adorable scrunch. “It just seems wrong to be in a bathing suit on Christmas.”

I laughed. “The poolside margaritas make it worth it.”

“Give me my hot cocoa and freezing cold beach walks any day.”

A sharp pang lanced through my chest. I missed those. Especially when I went with Trouble. She was always on the hunt for some sort of treasure: sea glass, a unique shell, a piece of driftwood in a cool shape. We’d lose ourselves on the beach for hours. Vi never wanted to go on those treks once the weather had turned. She’d always been delicate and, it seemed, too fragile for this world.

I blinked back to the present. Bell stared at me with a look of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just…lost in memories, I guess.”

Bell laid a hand gently over mine. It was the first time she had voluntarily touched me, the first time she had reached out. The warmth that filled her flowed into my hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped herself. She squeezed my hand and stood. “Thank you for the muffin.”

“Anytime.” I watched as she walked away, feeling the divide between us expand with each step she took. I hated every inch of distance.

12

BELL

I crouched down, running my hands over the worn wood of the credenza. It needed some serious TLC, but I could give it that. As I stared at the piece, I could imagine it coming back to life before my eyes. Sanding it, replacing broken cabinet pulls. Maybe I’d paint it teal. That was the perfect color for this piece.

“Isabelle?”

I jerked at the sound of the name that no longer felt like mine. I stood up, wincing. “Hey, Mom. What are you doing here?” Garage sales weren’t exactly my mother’s typical haunts. They were one of my safe zones. I’d become a master at determining those areas on my tiny island over the past few years. Become skilled at avoiding any potential run-ins with my parents.

She smoothed invisible wrinkles in her windbreaker. “I’m just out for my morning walk.” She glanced over at the array of goods on the Perkins’ lawn. “What are you doing here? Does your job pay so little that you have to purchase other people’s castoffs?”

My back teeth ground together. “You never know what treasures you can find at a garage sale.”