There’s so much to do. I used all the money I received from selling Mom’s home to buy a small, abandoned building on the outskirts of town near the marina. It needs a lot of work, but it will soon be Maverick Key’s first animal clinic. This will help the townsfolk, since the only way to get pet care now is a twenty-minute drive over the Castle Light Bridge to Naples. There’s no set date for the grand opening, but I expect to finish the work in a few months.
If I stay focused. Contractors begin renovations in a few weeks.
Ding and I walk up the gravel path toward the historic inn, a thriving bed-and-breakfast. The wide front porch is dotted with swaying flower baskets, and weathered wooden shingles shimmer under the late afternoon sun. A sign carved in elegant script, Driftwood Inn & Cottages—Your Island Escape, swings from iron chains.
For a moment, I freeze. I’m intruding on a memory which doesn’t belong to me. Nathan’s memory.
Beyond the inn, the island stretches out in a lush mix of tropical charm and untouched wilderness. We pass blooming hibiscus, the air sweetened by their fragrance and mingled with the sharp tang of saltwater. A pair of white egrets fly across the road, disappearing into a swaying palm canopy. Farther up, twoold men lean against a weathered fence, chatting in low, good-natured tones.
As Ding and I near the front porch, a Welcome Home sign hangs from the edge of the railing. The uneven letters are in Nathan’s handwriting. He painted it during my last visit.
“Don’t worry, sis,” he’d said back then, hammering it into place with a smile I’ll never forget. Handsome and quirky, wearing hisProtect the SeasT-shirt, ripped jeans, and glasses—all quintessential Nathan. “This place will always be here for you.”
My heart aches.
I’d postponed dealing with my inheritance, as I cared for our ailing mother. And after she passed away last year, Sarasota held nothing for me.
Now, the inn is mine.
The weight of ownership is heavier than the South Florida humidity pressing against my skin. Standing on the porch, my gaze sweeps across the grounds, taking it all in. I’ll try to make a life here. Moving to Maverick Key opens a world of possibilities—a chance to start over and reclaim Nathan’s legacy. There’s so much I’m missing from the last years of my brother’s life. Never one to talk about himself, it was still clear he was a rising star in the scientific community. But the details of his life and death are shrouded. I need to know more. I want to understand what he was looking for and do everything in my power to be sure his work is remembered.
The inn’s double doors open, and a small woman steps out, waving enthusiastically like she’s been waiting for me. She’s in her sixties, gray hair pinned back in a simple bun. Her expression is warm and friendly.
“You must be Maddie.” She strides toward me with arms outstretched, squeezing me into a big hug. “I’m Ms. Connor, the innkeeper. Who’s this handsome guy?”
“This is Ding.”
He jumps up at the sound of his name and flops onto his back, shamelessly asking Ms. Connor for a belly rub.
“He’s not shy about introductions.”
“Well, then. He’s going to fit right in here.” She kneels and obliges him with a few rubs before straightening back up. “Come on inside, honey. I’ve got some refreshments waiting for you.” She looks down. “And there’s something meaty and delicious for you, too, Ding.” He wags his tail, following her inside like he owns the place.
The cool air inside the inn is a relief. A pitcher of lemonade, glistening with condensation, sits on the kitchen counter beside two tall glasses. I pour myself a drink and take a slow sip. It’s tart, sweet, and laced with a hint of mint.
“This is delicious.” I lick my lips. “Did you make it yourself?”
She beams. “It’s an old island recipe. Keeps the heat at bay.” She’s buzzing around the kitchen, wiping down the counters as she chats. “Why don’t you put your bags down and take a look around? Later on, I’ll show you the cottage.”
While she works on dinner, I wander through the inn. The living area’s dark wood and leather furnishings are cozy, though dust covers some surfaces. Ms. Connor has been caring for this place all by herself. It’s amazing she keeps it as clean as she does. Behind the kitchen, there’s a staircase leading to the inn’s guest suites. I start up the stairs.
Ding’s bark from the porch brings my attention back to the door.
To find out what’s alarmed him, I step outside. The steady crash of waves, a distant hum of voices, and birdcalls wash over me. I look back at the ocean. Somewhere out there, past the endless blue horizon, liesCarter’s Drop.
Nathan’s lifework.
His final resting place.
The blue hole my brother discovered now bears his name. I blink back my sadness.
“Hey there. I hope I’m not intruding.” A cheerful voice calls out.
I turn to see a young woman with bright red hair pulled into a messy ponytail, strands escaping in every direction. She’s wearing flip-flops and a vibrant sunflower-print dress, her smile as bright as the fabric.
“I’m sorry for just showing up.” She catches her breath. “You’re Maddie, right? I figured I’d come by and say hello.”
“That’s me. And you are?”
