Page 23 of Key West Promises

Tess and Leah exchanged a look—the kind of silent communication that came from years of sisterhood. But this time it carried the weight of their own shock and anger Gretchen had lied to them as well. She lied to Chelsea and now was living on Captiva Island to be near her, still holding on to her secret.

Leah’s heart raced. How had they not known? How had they lived with Gretchen for a year and never suspected?

“All right, but Kaitlyn, send your mother a text and tell her you need time. Gretchen should understand that. Not answering her calls at all won’t make her stop,” Tess said finally. “We’ll figure this out together, and when we do, we’ll all confront this at the same time.”

Leah added, finally moving to pull Kaitlyn into a hug, “Tonight we just…process.”

Through the window, they could see the stars emerging over Key West. Somewhere in Miami, another family was ending their day, unaware that their lives were about to intersect with a truth long hidden. And in a small yellow bungalow, three women held on to each other, their own constellation of love and hurt and healing, trying to find their way forward in the face of a past that refused to stay buried.

Kaitlyn sat at her desk at Paradise Harbor House, sifting through a stack of donation receipts. The quiet hum of the morning surrounded her, broken only by the occasional rustle of paper.

She had come in early, hoping the routine would keep her mind occupied, but last night’s discussion still pressed heavily against her thoughts. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating dust motes in its path, a soft contrast to the restlessness churning inside her.

Her phone lay face down beside her, silent since she'd sent her mother the brief text Tess had insisted on: "I need time. Please respect that."

The sound of equipment being set up made her look up. Will was arranging his camera near the common room windows, talking quietly with Elena about lighting. The sight of his camera made something twist in her stomach. How many family photos had her father taken with his other daughter while Kaitlyn waited for even a phone call?

"Morning," Will called, noticing her. "The light's perfect for interviews today. Elena thought maybe we could talk about the community outreach program."

"No." The word came out sharp enough to make Elena glance over in concern. Kaitlyn softened her tone with effort. "No interviews. Not today."

Will's eyebrows rose slightly as he studied her. Gone was his usual easy confidence, replaced by something more careful. "Everything okay? You seem…"

"I'm fine." She gathered the receipts into a neat pile, needing order in something. "I just…I don't think we should be recording people's stories right now. Some things aren't meant to be documented."

Elena touched Will's arm lightly. "Maybe we should focus on the building today. The garden, the renovations…"

"Right," Will agreed, but his eyes stayed on Kaitlyn. "Though sometimes telling our stories helps us understand them better."

Kaitlyn's laugh held no humor. "And sometimes stories are just lies we tell ourselves to make the truth easier to swallow."

She thought of all those years her mother had fed her explanations about why her father stayed away, each one calculated to keep her from discovering Joanna, from knowing about her sister.

Will set his camera down entirely, an action that made her look up in surprise. "Want to talk about it? Off the record, obviously."

"Why? So you can understand the human condition better? Get some insight into family dynamics?" The bitterness in her voice surprised even her. "Sorry. That wasn't…I should go check on the donation sorting."

But as she turned to leave, his quiet voice stopped her. "You know what I've learned, doing this work? Everyone thinks their pain is unique. That no one could possibly understand. But sometimes sharing it helps us realize we're not as alone as we think."

Kaitlyn turned back slowly, seeing the genuine concern in his expression. For a moment, she almost wanted to tell him everything—about finding Joanna's Instagram, about her half-sister's life documented in perfect filtered squares, about her mother's years of careful deception.

Instead, she said, "Some stories aren't ready to be told." She gestured at his camera. "Not everything needs to be captured and shared."

Will nodded, accepting her boundary without pushing. "Fair enough. But if you ever want to talk—no cameras, no documentation—I'm a pretty good listener."

Something in his tone, the complete lack of pressure, made her throat tight. "I'll keep that in mind."

As she walked away, she could feel his gaze following her, seeing more than she was ready to show. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably another message from her mother—but she left it unanswered. Some truths needed time to settle, to find their own way into the light.

CHAPTER 11

Tess wiped down the bar at Margarita Max's, her movements automatic as her mind wandered back to the new revelations about Gretchen.

The familiar rhythm of Open Mic performances at dinnertime was a welcome distraction and easier to appreciate than the Wannabe Wednesday night karaoke that would begin a few hours later. The gentle clink of glasses, quiet conversations, and none of the tourist chaos that usually filled the place was a welcome change.

"We have to tell Chelsea," Leah murmured, refilling the salt rim tray beside her. A group of regulars waved from their usual corner table, and she acknowledged them with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She deserves to know what Gretchen's been hiding. They live ten minutes apart on Captiva now."

"One family crisis at a time," Tess replied softly, mixing a mojito for one of their regulars—an older woman who wrote mystery novels and always tipped in cash with a note about which character she'd named after her bartender that week. "Let's figure out how to handle Kaitlyn first."

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