Chapter 1
For an archivist, Nora Wallace was surprisingly bad at managing her own history. She could coax a story from the faded ink of a forgotten letter or find meaning in the pressed flowers tucked within a century-old book, but the narrative of her own life had become a chaotic, painful mess. The quiet spine of a book held a promise—that every story had a beginning, a middle, and a satisfying end. It was this promise that pulled her toward the sea, toward a remote lighthouse tower filled with stories that weren't her own, hoping that in the quiet work of ordering them, she might somehow reorder herself.
The decision to leave came not in a storm of tears, but in the quiet of a Tuesday afternoon when the silence in her apartment felt louder than the traffic outside. It came with a job posting forwarded by a well-meaning friend: Archivist needed for temporary cataloguing of private collection. Remote island location. Accommodations provided. The words felt less like an offer and more like a lifeline woven from paper and ink. It was a chance not to run away, but to run to something—to a place where the only voices she had to contend with would be the whispers from old pages and the steady, rhythmic sigh of the sea.
She had always believed that a life could be neatly boxed and labeled. Yet as she pressed the final strip of packing tape onto a box marked ‘Kitchen — Miscellaneous,’ the label felt like a lie. It contained the ghost of a hundred shared breakfasts, the chipped mug he’d always used, the spice rack they’d assembled on a rainy Sunday. This wasn't miscellaneous; it was the entire, messy, heartbreaking archive of a future that had beencancelled. Outside her window, the city pulsed with a frantic energy she no longer had the heart for. All she wanted was the deep, comforting silence promised by a remote island, a historic lighthouse, and shelves of forgotten books that asked for nothing but to be put in order.
The ferry groaned, a sound that was half complaint, half lullaby, as it cut through a fog as thick as cream. Seaglass Island was out there, somewhere, but for now, the world was reduced to the salt-scrubbed deck beneath Nora’s feet and the muffled cry of a gull. She welcomed the grey cocoon. It hid the sharp, glittering skyline she was leaving behind and blurred the edges of a life that had become too painful to look at directly. She didn’t need to see where she was going just yet; it was enough, for now, to simply be on her way.
As the ferry's engine changes its tune, dropping to a low rumble. A horn blasts once, a deep, resonant sound that seems to be swallowed by the fog. Through the thinning mist, the first solid shape emerges: the weathered, only barnacle-kissed pilings of the dock. The ferry nudges gently against the wood, Nora jerks awake, she had been sleeping throughout the whole journey. It felt like a lifetime.
From afar, Nora could see a group of people waiting for the ferry to arrive on the shore; some chatting while some just standing there minding their own business. It seems like a little world of its own. Right in the water, she could see weather-beaten fishing boats bobbing up and down in the water and the fishermen throwing their nets into the water, scooping it out, the net came back with lots of fish.
‘Amazing!’ she exclaimed very low.
“That's Joey and his crew. He always goes fishing at the turn. Says the fish are waiting for it just like he is.” The ferryman told her.
His voice had a soft, musical lilt, the words rising and falling in a way she couldn't quite place. She had to listen closely, not because he was quiet, but because his vowels were rounder, his consonants softer than she was used to.
Nora caught a few words and smiled, pretending she understood the rest. She wondered what the turn was. Maybe that's how they spoke that side. She had to learn to understand their language in order to feel accepted.
Titling her head a little, she could see the quaint, sloping roofs of the small town climbing the hill beyond the dock. That's where she was going. Her new home. She couldn't stop wondering what it was like.
As the ferry stopped right on the shore, Nora stood up. She wondered how she would find the person who's supposed to pick her up from the shore. She looked around and saw a guy around her age, carrying a small sign written ‘Noora’. This guy didn't look like he was here to pick up someone, he was just the one person who looks like he's waiting with a calm, patient purpose. She smiled.
He walks up to her with a firm smile.
The ferryman called to Leo, "Look what the tide fetched up today!" nodding toward Nora.
He smiled broadly again.
“Thank you Mr Stue, for bringing her here. Sarah will be pleased.” Leo said to the ferryman, who Nora now knows as Mr Stue.
“It's nothing you, young fella,” he said and took Nora's luggage from the ferry, placing it down on the sand.
"That's a thin coat for a crossing," the woman said, her voice raspy like rope. "Won't be much use when a proper sea-mizzle sets in." Nora must have looked confused, because Leo leaned in slightly. "A cold fog," he murmured, his own accent much softer. "Rolls in without a warning.”
Nora smiled at her warmly. “Oh, I didn't know ma’am but I'll surely get more warm coats next time. I'm Nora.” She extended her hand for a shake.
“Pleasure to meet you Noora. I'm Mrs Stue.” Instead of a handshake she leaned in for a bear hug. “That ferryman is my lovely husband. Welcome home child.”
“Thanks Mrs Stue.”
“Leo, do bring her to visit some day. She's a lovely girl, for a From Away. A bit quiet. Only a few words.” Mrs Stue said and walked away towards her husband.
Nora watched in awe as Mr Stue picked up his wife and spun her around then showered her with lots of kisses while Mrs Stue just giggled like a high school teenage girl. She couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just maybe this is where she'll find peace. Everyone seemed happy and with lots of love. She is brought back from her thoughts by Leo.
“Cute, right?”
She just nodded.
“You'll see lots of these around here. It's an island of love. Now let's head to the house where you'll be staying. I'll show you the room and while you get settled, I'll get you something to eat.”
They pick up Nora's luggage and walk into the jungle away from the shore towards a small beautiful village.
“That's the Mary's bakery over there. Mrs Gabe pub right there and then the church above the hill. That's a school in blue paint over there. The only small hotel in the village over there for all the visitors. You see the lighthouse over there? That's the Beacon Point Lighthouse. That's where we're going.” Leo said. He kept pointing out all the buildings around them and Nora kept nodding.
Her attention now on the lighthouse, she wondered what it looked like from within. Outside it looked very old, the paint fading away. It looked old yet it was beautiful and still operational. They walked towards a huge door and Leo removed a stack of keys from his pockets and opened the door.
“Welcome,” Leo said. “This is the Beacon Point lighthouse. You'll be working here and also staying inside here.”
“Oh my God! It looks beautiful.” She exclaimed.
“I know right. The very first time I was here also, I was stunned. I couldn't believe it. I thought I was in heaven.” He said and they both laughed.
The first room they passed was a kitchen, not big but looked like the one from White House. Leo had said that's where food is prepared for the little restaurant on the other side.
“There's a restaurant inside here?” Her mouth was hanging open. Leo had said yes, and promised to take her there after she had rested. He told her that he'll take her on a tour around the whole lighthouse. They go on a spiral staircase leading to the room quarters where they'll be staying.
“That room 200 is my room and yours is the one next to it. Should you need anything, any day just scream, I'll be there.”Leo said as they passed his room to Nora's. Placing her luggage down, he gave her the keys and turned back leaving her alone to settle.
Opening her door, it smelled fresh, she opened the windows and a breeze of air, smelling like the sea, rushed inside. It wasn't a big room but it had a small kitchen, a small living room, a fireplace, a bedroom and bathroom. It was smaller than her apartment in the city but she was going to survive. She stood by the window admiring the view of the sea from above. She could still see the fishermen still fishing and others just sitting there under huge umbrellas enjoying coconuts.
‘Maybe, it's not going to be that bad at all. This is exactly what I need.’ she thought to herself and smiled, walking back to her bags and started to unpack.
It is a new beginning of her life, in Seaglass Island.
