“Well I’ll be,” Jim says, reminding me of his presence. “A real live reunion. You both knew each other back in the day, did you?”

Ezra nods, his eyes still trained on my face. “When I was a kid, I used to go with my dad when he was working over at Avril Island, and that’s how June and I became friends.” He gives his head a shake. “What are you doing back after all these years?”

I go to give him a stock answer, but something stops me. I want to tell Ezra the truth, but not here in the middle of the marina dock with Jim listening in. I owe Ezra more than that. He meant something to me a long time ago, and I feel it once again give a tug on my heart.

“It’s a long story,” I say instead. “You should come out to the island for a drink, and we’ll catch up.”

A wide smile spreads across his handsome face. “I’d really like that.” I give Ezra my cell number, and he sends me a text right there to make sure we’re connected.

“All right then,” I say. “I’ll be sure to contact you.”

“Please do, June,” he says, with a sincerity that can’t be faked. “I’d really love to have a visit. It’s been so long. Too long.”

“I definitely will.” I give a quick nod. “So until then.” Turning in the direction of my boat, I call over my shoulder one last thank-you to Jim for the scrapbook. Then I untie my boat and slowly back out of the boat slip while trying to ignore the nervous fluttering running all through me, brought on by the sight of Ezra Keen.

Ezra and I have history. He was my first kiss, but before that he was my best summer friend. West brought him every time he came to the island to do work, which felt to me like every day. Ezra would help his dad unload his tools or whatever equipment he needed for the day, and then the two of us would go off to explore the island. We built forts together, caught frogs, started tiny bonfires and then drowned them with lake water, had underwater breath-holding contests, played endless games of Scrabble and Uno, put on silly plays on the verandah—essentially, we did all the things kids at cottages do.

May was fond of Ezra too, but she floated in and out of our time together as it suited her, spending most of her time taking photographs or looking for things to take photographs of or studying the photographs she’d already taken.