Sometimes the messenger doesn’t know they’re carrying the story. They think they’re writing it. They think they’re in control. They rarely are.
Catalina will choose who speaks next—and the island has never been gentle with its chosen.
Chapter One
Arrival
The ferry nosed into Avalon like a promise, smiles and laughter spilling over the railings. Harmony felt the island shift beneath her feet, as if it had been waiting for her. A gull circled low, watching her instead of the water, causing a chill to chase down her spine.
She shook it off. She’d stood in this exact spot dozens of times before, joy rising the moment her eyes found the island. This should’ve been no different.
Yet, it was.
“Back where you belong,” her cousin, Cass, said, flicking long blonde hair over her shoulder as she turned with a bright smile and sparkling blue eyes. The two of them threaded through the crowd, bags dragging behind. Cass’s voice was light and teasing as she squeezed Harmony’s hand. “You and this island have a mutual crush.”
“It’s merely a fling,” Harmony quickly replied, smiling as she gazed out at the marina and beyond. Pastel buildings climbedthe hillside like candy, boats rocked in the bay, and bodies played in the tide, children’s squeals carrying on the breeze. She shrugged, then conceded, “Well, maybe it’s a long, complicated affair.”
“You’ve been coming every few months for years,” Cass said. “At this point, I expect wedding invitations from the Catalina Chamber of Commerce with Jim presiding.”
Harmony laughed. It could very well be true. This place grounded her in ways nothing else could.
Though the sunlight was warm and familiar, it struck her wrong today. It was too sharp, like a camera flash she hadn’t been ready for. The last year had left her raw. When her ex-husband walked away . . . with another woman, he’d told her that shefelt too much. She’d laughed it off . . . until she realized he meant it as a flaw, not a compliment. Then, she wasn’t laughing anymore. On the mainland, feeling too much had made it difficult to function. On Avalon, it was the only thing that woke her up.
So why did it feel different this time?
It didn’t feel like a welcome. It felt like an assessment. As if something old was taking her measure. And beneath that, another awareness threaded through it, human and deliberate, like someone had been studying this place as long as she had, learning its corners and shadows the way she’d learned its tides.
“Coffee first,” Cass decreed. “Before we run into everyone.”
“Everyone?” Harmony asked, amused. “You say it like we’re walking into a family reunion in a courtroom.”
“First rule of Avalon,” Cass said, bumping her shoulder. “Nothing here stays secret for long.”
“Is there a second rule?” Harmony asked.
“The deputies see whatever the island misses.”
Harmony snorted, but Cass didn’t smile this time.
“I’m serious,” she added quietly as she looked around. “People talk. Things echo. There are no clean exits here. Just stories that fade slower than you think.”
Cass shook off the serious moment and flashed the grin that had brought more than a few men to their knees. Harmony decided not to push.
They cut along Crescent Avenue, known to the locals as Front Street, a perfect curve of storefronts and bright sunlight, a slow parade of lives on display. Bluewater’s patio buzzed, the scent of oysters and lemon drifting into the street. Harmony scanned faces—tourists flushed with excitement and locals with practiced half-smiles. A thin ripple passed beneath her skin. She wanted it to be the breeze, but it felt more targeted.
The art gallery’s windows displayed glass and color. Down the street, the Marlin Club waited like a secret that knew exactly who it would let in.
Harmony had always been good at reading people, better at recording them. It was safer that way. Observers didn’t cause damage. They only wrote it down. At least, that’s what she’d always told herself. She was off at the moment, though. It was shaking her normal calm.
The island usually sharpened her senses. The water was bluer. Rumors traveled faster. Night felt closer when you walked alone. Some said the island didn’t like it when visitors stayed for too long. Harmony no longer felt like a visitor, though. She felt like someone who belonged.
At The Catalina Coffee and Cookie Company in the Metropole Market Place, the air cooled, and the smell of roasted beans wrapped around them. A woman behind the counter recognized them and lifted a hand.
“Hey, Cass. Harmony. Back already?” Her name tag read,ALBA. Her smile was genuine, even if faint shadows clung beneath her eyes.
“Can’t seem to stay away,” Cass said, leaning on the counter like she owned it. “Two iced lattes—extra shots, extra caramel, please.”
“On it,” Alba said, already moving. Her skin was flushed, and she looked tired, though her smile didn’t falter.
