Chapter 1
I jolted awake to the blaring sound of my alarm, my body protesting as if I’d only just closed my eyes. Blinking against the faint morning light, I took in the familiar yet still strange surroundings. This place didn’t quite feel like home yet. Groaning, I buried my head under the pillow, clinging to the last scraps of sleep. After a few moments, I forced myself to sit up, rubbing the haze from my eyes, and dragged my feet across the cool wooden floor toward the bathroom.
I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and paused. My dark hair was a tangled mess, the kind that spoke of restless sleep. I ran a hand through the strands, trying to tame the chaos, and traced a faint crease on my cheek where the pillow had pressed into my skin. The sight was unremarkable, yet grounding. With a small sigh, I turned on the shower, the steady rush of water a soothing backdrop as I began my morning routine.
Afterwards, I dressed in my favourite sky-blue dress—a soft, comfortable piece that cinched slightly at the waist and fell just above my knees. Simple yet professional, it struck the right balance for the office. The collar framed the delicate silver necklace I always wore: a seashell-shaped charm, a gift from Aunt Liz years ago. I smoothed my dark hair into a sleek curtain that fell just past my shoulders and gave my reflection one final glance. My brown eyes stared back at me, tired but steady, my skin glowing faintly with the olive undertones of my mother’s Mediterranean roots.
By the time I made it downstairs, Aunt Liz was already seated at the dining table, her coffee mug cradled in both hands. She smiled as I walked in, but her eyes lingered a little too long on my face.
“You didn’t sleep much, did you?” she asked.
I shook my head lightly, brushing off the concern. “I’m fine.”
“You’re always saying that,” Aunt Liz replied with a small sigh. Her tone wasn’t scolding, just knowing. “Just remember, you’re allowed to lean on people every now and then.”
Her words hung in the air as I grabbed a piece of toast and poured myself a cup of coffee. It was a conversation we’d had a dozen times since I’d arrived, but she never pushed further. For that, I was grateful.
Instead, she reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Good luck on your first day, Elena. You’ll do great.”
I smiled or tried to before heading toward the door. “Thanks, Aunt Liz. I’ll see you later.”
Outside, the morning air was warm and fresh, carrying with it a faint, familiar hint of saltwater. The streets of Alana stretched before me, quiet and golden under the early sunlight. This town hadn’t changed much since I’d left. It still wore the same postcard-perfect charm, like a place frozen in time. But beneath the bright surface, it held memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
It had been a month since I’d returned, and I was still finding my footing. Working at the Alana Gazette was supposed to be a fresh start or at least a way to slow things down. The drive through town was serene, and the surroundings were so familiar that it almost felt like the years away had been a dream.
The Alana Gazette was a modest building on Main Street, tucked between a bakery and a thrift shop. Its chipped blue door had seen better days, and the small brass plaque reading “Alana Gazette—Est. 1954” hung slightly askew. I paused outside, drawing in a deep breath, before stepping in.
The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee greeted me a nostalgic blend that pulled me straight back to my first newsroom internship. Inside, the space was small but bustling, with open desks clustered together and walls lined with filing cabinets and cluttered bulletin boards. A few heads turned my way, curious eyes giving me a polite once-over. In a town like Alana, a new face didn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re Elena Parker, right?”
The voice belonged to a tall man with graying hair and a slightly rumpled jacket. He stepped toward me, extending a hand.
“I’m George Adler, editor-in-chief. Good to finally meet you in person.”
“Nice to meet you, George,” I replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, his sharp gaze assessing.
His gaze flicked over me quickly, assessing but not unkind. “We’re glad to have you on board. It’s not every day we get someone with city experience out here in Alana.”
I could hear the unspoken question in his voice, but I didn’t offer anything.
“Come on, I’ll show you around,” he said, gesturing for me to follow.
We weaved through the desks, past stacks of papers, and faded photographs of Alana’s past. George pointed out the coffee station and the break room and finally stopped at a desk near the window. “This will be your spot,” he said.
The desk was small, but the view made up for it. Through the window, I could see Main Street in all its sunlit simplicity. People strolled leisurely, carrying brown paper bags from the bakery or chatting over cups of coffee on the benches.
On the desk, a manila folder waited for me. George tapped it lightly. “Your first assignment. A piece on the Summer Festival. It’s an easy start, but once you’re settled, I’ll have something a little more substantial for you.”
“Substantial?” I asked.
His expression shifted, just slightly. “We’ve got a few things brewing around town—nothing big, just... the kinds of stories that tend to catch people’s attention.”
I nodded, not entirely sure what he meant but sensing there was more to it.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get to it,” he said, stepping back. “And welcome to the Gazette.”
I watched him walk away before turning back to the folder. For a long moment, I just stared at it, letting the faint hum of the office settle over me. The assignment was straightforward—an overview of the upcoming Summer Festival, complete with quotes from vendors and a bit of local history. I scanned the notes George had included in the folder. A couple of names were jotted down—business owners, event organizers, and a few community leaders who’d apparently been involved with the festival for years. Easy enough.
With a sigh, I pushed back from my desk and glanced around the room. A handful of people were at their stations, absorbed in their work. Across the room, a young woman with a messy bun and glasses perched on the bridge of her nose glanced up and caught my eye. She grinned and waved me over.
I hesitated but crossed the room anyway, tucking the folder under my arm. She didn’t wait for me to speak.
“You’re the new girl,” she said cheerfully, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I’m Tessa designated nosy reporter and unofficial town encyclopedia. Need to know who’s married, divorced, or secretly hates their neighbour? I’m your girl.”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Elena Parker. And thanks for the offer. I might take you up on that.”
“Oh, you’ll need it,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Alana runs on gossip. It’s, like, our second economy.” She paused, tilting her head slightly as she studied me. Her smile was easy, but her eyes were sharp. “People have been buzzing since they heard you were coming back.”
“Buzzing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, dragging out the hum as she leaned back in her chair. “You know how small towns are. Someone leaves, they’re gone for years, then suddenly they’re back? People start wondering why. They’ll be watching you, just so you know.”
I managed a polite smile, brushing off the comment. “Well, they’ll just have to settle for me being boring and predictable.”
Tessa raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “If you say so. But let me know if you want the town’s top ten juiciest rumors.” She grinned. “Welcome to the Gazette.”
