Page 19 of Key West Promises

But how could they talk about it? How could they discuss the photos she'd discovered, the sister she'd never known, the life her father had built while leaving his first family behind? How could any conversation bridge that kind of divide?

The bungalow was dark when she arrived, her aunts still at their evening shift at Margarita Max's. Ernest dozed on the porch railing, one eye cracking open at her approach. She envied him sometimes—his simple world of food and sunshine, unmarred by complicated family histories.

Inside, she put her laptop on the table and opened it. The screen glowed with the Paradise Harbor House website draft.

Christina's drawing smiled up at her—all those figures holding hands, connected by crayon lines and childish hope. Below it, Dominic's tree spread its branches wide, offering shelter to any bird that needed it.

She opened a new browser tab, fingers hovering over the keyboard. One click would take her to the profile she checked compulsively, show her another family's moments—birthdays and graduations, father-daughter dances and family vacations. All the memories that could have been hers in another life, another version of her story.

Instead, she clicked back to the Paradise Harbor House page. These were the stories she needed to tell—of families rebuilding, of hope taking root in unexpected places, of people finding their way forward despite the past's long shadows.

Tomorrow there would be more photos to take, more moments to capture. More chances to help others document their journeys while keeping her own carefully hidden. For now, she let the children's artwork fill her screen, their simple truths drowning out the complicated ones that threatened to overflow.

Through the window, she could see the stars emerging over Key West, each one a pinpoint of light in the gathering dark.

Somewhere out there, another family was ending their day, another sister was living her life unaware. But here, in this moment, Kaitlyn had her own purpose—helping others find their light, even if her own path remained in shadow.

CHAPTER 9

Kaitlyn adjusted the straps of her tote bag as she stepped out of the bakery, the scent of fresh Cuban bread and espresso still lingering in her nose. The bag was loaded with donated pastries for Paradise Harbor House, and the heat of the mid-morning sun made her wish she had grabbed an iced coffee for the walk.

As she turned onto the street leading to the shelter, she slowed at the sight of a man with a camera, crouched near the entrance of Paradise Harbor House. He was filming the building, panning up to catch the sign, then turning his lens toward the side lot where some of the women were tending the small community garden.

Kaitlyn’s immediate reaction was suspicion. Her grip tightened around the tote.Who is this guy? Some influencer trying to get content at the expense of vulnerable women?

She approached him quickly, her sandals clapping against the pavement.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, stepping into his shot.

The man glanced up, his striking blue eyes narrowing slightly as he pushed his shaggy brown hair, which fell just below his chin, out of his face. He had a little unshaven scruff—just enough to give him a rugged look, and when he smirked, Kaitlyn found herself momentarily thrown off by how gorgeous his smile was. Charming, irritating, and far too self-assured all at the same time. He wore a plain gray t-shirt and cargo shorts, a camera strap slung across his chest.

"Filming," he said simply.

Kaitlyn folded her arms. "Yeah, I can see that. But why? Because unless you’re with the news or someone from the city, I don’t think you have permission."

The man sighed and stood, adjusting his camera. "I’m Will. Will Moreno. I’m working on a documentary about the people who live and work in Key West beyond the tourism scene. You know, the ones who don’t make it into the glossy brochures. I met Elena a few days ago, and she said it was okay for me to get some exterior shots."

Kaitlyn blinked. "Elena approved this?"

Will smirked. "Did you think I just showed up with a camera and started recording?"

"Honestly? Yes. That happens more than you'd think," she shot back. "Social media vultures love to exploit places like this for pity clicks."

Will’s smirk faded. "That’s not what I do. I don’t chase feel-good stories to go viral. I tell real ones. I was actually about to head inside to talk to Elena again—unless you want to arrest me first."

Kaitlyn huffed but waved toward the door. "Fine. But I’m watching you."

Inside, the air-conditioning was a welcome relief. Elena was speaking with one of the volunteers when she spotted them.

"Will! Good timing," she said, smiling. Then she glanced at Kaitlyn. "I see you’ve met our skeptical volunteer."

Kaitlyn gave a sheepish shrug. "Sorry. I thought he was just some random guy trying to get content."

Will chuckled. "No hard feelings. I’d probably assume the same thing."

Elena gestured toward the seating area. "Will is interested in telling the story of Key West from a different angle—one that includes places like Paradise Harbor House. I think it could be a good opportunity for us."

Kaitlyn still wasn’t convinced. "And how do we know this isn’t just a one-off project that will get a few festival screenings and then disappear? These women don’t need someone swooping in, putting a lens on their lives, and then leaving like they were some passing inspiration."

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