She had spent the entire day roaming around the tiny island. It was breathtaking, so simple, so beautiful. It seemed almost untouched by the world, despite the small village and population of 400 hundred. Almost as if it had been waiting for her her entire life.

After she had made the trip around the island (which had taken less than half an hour), she returned to the village. Parking her car in the lot of the only hotel on the island, she ventured out on foot. She was lost in the appeal of this small town. Tiny little stores, small boutiques, a little community theatre, a tiny public school, all of it spoke straight to her heart.

It was a place where people knew each other all their lives. It was a place where people set down roots, where they would raise a family. It had a history, and she could see it in the very walkways of the village. And history was something she craved, more than anything. A history to call her own. She could build that here.

Flectcher's Cove, from what she could see, was the definitive small town. A few hundred people, a small fishing industry, a big tourist trade; it had one major resort hotel that was very fancy, a line of rental cottages along the beach, a few enormous houses perched on the cliffs at the opposite end of the island. She was completely in love with it. She never wanted to leave it.

Deciding it was time to see about where she was going to live, she walked to the bookstore that had been pointed out to her. As she walked, the late summer breeze whipped around her hair, and she luxuriated in the feel of it blowing behind her. Cairo Williams had worn her hair just below shoulder-length, and had it tied back in a ponytail for practicality. Carrie Williams wore her hair long and free, had let it grow since the moment she began her life. It was almost past her waist, and it tumbled down her back in wild curls and spirals, freely.

With that thought, she felt a deep stab of regret. She still felt guilty about giving up on her past life, on moving on. All those she had left behind. But it was killing her to stay there, watching him die more and more each day as he pleaded with her to remember. He never said anything, but it was so obvious that every time he looked at her, his heart shattered. She couldn't take it anymore, and selfishly had run.

Wandering around the country for two years could have a detrimental effect on anymore. Although she resented the person she had been because she couldn't be her, she did have to admit that she appreciated her bank account. Cairo Williams had been an author with quite a bit of popularity, and the royalties from her published works allowed her to see much of the country.

But what she wanted most was a home. Somewhere to call her own, somewhere untouched by the memory of Cairo Williams. Taking a deep sigh, she opened the door to the bookstore and café, labeled the Nook, and walked in. Surveying the spacious store, she spotted the person that had been described to her, and approached her.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Janice Potter," she said with a slight smile.

"Then you would have found her. What can I do for you?" the woman, who looked to be in her forties, asked.

"I was told that you have a place for sale, a small cottage by the woods?" she asked, hoping with al that was in her that it hadn't been taken yet. She had seen it in her travels, and had known that this was going to be her home.

"Ah yes, the old Marshall place. Don't know what made me think to buy the damned thing, I haven't a single use for it. But I suppose, since you're asking about it, it might have some value about it," she said, with a huge smile. Janice Potter had been looking to sell it for the longest time.

"So is it for sale?" she asked hopefully.

"Not any longer, if you're looking to buy it from me. In all truth, I'm glad to be rid of it. If you'll come by the store here, in say, about an hour, we can go over some paper work," she suggested.

"I'll be here!" she promised, and turned to walk out of the store. Janice Potter watched her walk away with a chuckle. Beautiful little thing, she thought to herself. The little town would soon be buzzing with the news of a new arrival, especially if she was going to buy the Marshall place. Janice wondered how many of them would recognize the girl from the back of her books.

Imagine, she thought excitedly, the acclaimed horror novelist, Cairo Williams, coming to live in Fletchers Cove.

* * * *

"Well, now, Ms. Williams, as you can see, the cottage is furnished already, all you have to do is move in and it's all yours, honey," Janice Potter said, after giving Carrie the grand tour. It was a two-bedroom "cottage", and it backed into the woods. The backyard was a sea of flowers, it seemed the people who had lived there last had planted beds and beds of flowers, that had grown wild with no one around to care for them. Janice sniffed slightly as she looked out at it, but Carrie had just sighed with wonder.

"This is amazing, Mrs. Potter. I'm signing the agreement right now, on the spot," she said, whipping out a pen.

"Now now, dear, I don't have anything ready. But it'll be no problem for you to stay here a few days before we get everything legally settled. You'll find that this is a small island, Ms. Williams, and because of that, everyone is willing to help everyone out. We got quite a family going on here," she said.

"In that case, since I'm officially going to become a resident of Fletchers Cove, please, call me Carrie," she said with a smile.

"Be glad to, Carrie. What are your plans, now that you're here?"

"Haven't really thought that far ahead. I noticed that you have a bit of a community theatre in town, I was wondering if they'd be looking for any help around there? I think it would be a fun place to spend a few hours a week."

"Then you should speak to Andrew Jenkins. The public school has the run of the theatre there, and if you wanted to get something going, you should make sure you have his approval. He's the principal, you see," Janice explained.

"That's perfect, thank you."

"Not a problem. Now, my dear, as you know, I own the bookstore on the island, and I was wondering if you would ever want to work with me on something, to promote your books. It would be wonderful for the tourist trade around here," she suggested. Carrie froze.

"I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Potter," she said slowly.

"Well now, you must be silly to think I wouldn't recognize your name. Well, I'm used to seeing it in print, mind you and your first name is slightly different, but I always figured it was just a pen name anyway. I own a bookstore, of course I'd recognize you!" she said.

"Mrs. Potter, the thing you must understand is that…that part of my life is over. I'm no longer an author, I don't write anymore. And it's nothing that I'm willing to reopen," she said very slowly.

Janice Potter reckoned herself a woman of intuition and observation. It came from having two children, she supposed. And from watching the way that she had reacted from her simple suggestion, she could tell that this was a touchy subject, something that she would rather leave alone. She had liked what she had seen of this young lady so far. A lot of people appeared on Fletchers, all wanting to escape. Business people came with their families, to escape the pressures of their daily life in the city. People came often just to find solace in a small community. And she was sure that this girl had come here to escape something of her own. And she wasn't going to hinder that in anyway.

"I understand, my dear, don't think anything of it. When you get settled in, come by the bookstore, and we'll get all that legal nonsense sorted out, and I'll introduce you to some of the people on the island that can help you get established. Laura Kennedy, you should meet her for sure, and Andrew Jenkins, of course. Oh yes, I think that you'll be very happy here, Ms. Williams," she said kindly.

"Please, call me Carrie, Mrs. Potter," Carrie said.