Page 16 of Key West Promises

As she watched Carla and her children navigate the stairs with their selections, Kaitlyn's phone buzzed one final time. A text from her mother: "Please call me. We need to talk."

She deleted it without responding. Some conversations weren't ready to happen. Some truths needed time to settle, like dust after a storm. For now, there was work to be done, people to help, stories to tell that didn't include her own.

But watching Christina help her brother carry his treasures, Kaitlyn couldn't help but wonder about another girl, not so far away, who shared her eyes, her father's smile, and a life she would never know.

The bungalow was quiet when Kaitlyn returned, though the smell of Tess's latest culinary experiment lingered in the air. She found her aunts on the back porch, Leah working on paperwork while Tess jotted down menu ideas for the Paradise Harbor House event. Ernest strutted past, pausing to eye the remains of Tess's cooking with his usual literary criticism.

"How was your day?" Tess asked, looking up from her notebook. "Elena mentioned you had a new family arrive."

Kaitlyn dropped into the worn wicker chair, suddenly exhausted. "Yeah. A mother and three kids. The father left them." She pulled out her phone, deleted three more missed calls from her mother without looking at them. "Apparently he had a whole other life set up."

Leah's pen paused mid-sentence. "That must be hard on the children."

"The oldest girl, Christina—she's trying so hard to be strong for her siblings." Kaitlyn's voice caught slightly. "Kids shouldn't have to deal with stuff like that. She's what, seven? Eight? And she's already acting like a second mother."

"No, they shouldn't," Tess agreed softly, watching her niece with careful eyes. "Are you okay? You seem…"

"Fine," Kaitlyn said quickly. Too quickly. "Just tired. And Mom keeps calling. You know how she gets."

"Gretchen always was persistent," Leah said, using their sister's name in that particular way she had when disapproving of something. "Maybe you should talk to her. She worries."

"She worries when it's convenient," Kaitlyn muttered, then forced a smile. "Anyway, I should work on the Paradise Harbor House website. Elena wants to highlight our family support programs."

"Wait," Tess called as Kaitlyn started to rise. "I made key lime bars. New recipe for the fundraiser. You should try one."

"Not hungry." Kaitlyn's phone buzzed again. This time it was a text, and she caught a glimpse of the preview before deleting it: Mom: Sweetheart, please. We need to discuss…

"Have you had dinner?" Leah asked, her tone careful. The one she used when trying not to spook a nervous client. "And you're not sleeping well. We can hear you up late at night."

"I'm fine," Kaitlyn repeated, the words worn smooth from repetition. "Just…processing everything with Paradise Harbor House. Getting to know the families. It's emotional work, you know?"

Tess and Leah exchanged a look—the kind that had developed over decades of sisterhood, the kind that carried entire conversations in a single glance. Kaitlyn used to envy that connection. Now it made her stomach twist.

"We're here," Tess said simply. "Whatever's going on. Whenever you're ready."

"I know." Kaitlyn managed another smile, this one feeling like it might crack her face. "I just need to work on this website. The families deserve to have their stories told properly."

As she headed inside, Kaitlyn heard Leah whisper to Tess, "Something's not right with her."

"Give her time," Tess whispered back. "Whatever it is, she'll tell us when she's ready."

"But Gretchen…"

"Let it be, Leah. You know how complicated mother-daughter relationships can be."

Kaitlyn closed her laptop a little harder than necessary. If only they knew. If only they understood why every happy family photo on Paradise Harbor House’s website felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Her phone buzzed one more time—not her mother now, but a social media notification. Her finger hovered over it, knowing what she'd find if she looked: another perfect family moment, another smiling photo of the sister she'd never known.

Some truths were better left buried, even if they refused to stay quietly in their graves. Even if they haunted every conversation, colored every interaction, turned even the simplest family moment into a minefield of unspoken words.

Through the window, she could see Ernest pecking at invisible treasures in the withered herb garden. At least his world was simple—food, sunshine, and the occasional literary criticism. He didn't have to worry about families and their secrets, about the way truth could split a life in two as cleanly as a knife through water.

Her phone lay silent now, but she knew it wouldn't last. Her mother never could take a hint. And now, with every passing day at Paradise Harbor House, watching families piece themselves back together, Kaitlyn felt the weight of her knowledge growing heavier.

She opened her laptop again, forcing herself to focus on the website. There was work to be done, stories to tell that didn't include her own. For now, that would have to be enough.

CHAPTER 8

Kaitlyn adjusted her camera settings, watching through the lens as residents moved through their daily routines. A mother helping her daughter with homework. Two women sorting donations. A toddler building a tower of blocks only to knock it down with delighted giggles.

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