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“I’m sorry, Rae. Were you close?” I hadn’t been on island long enough to meet every resident, or even all of my friends’ extended family. But the name Jordan sounded familiar.

Rae sniffed, nodding. “Ye-ah. We grew up together. He runs one of the whale-watching companies out of the marina. He and his wife live on the edge of town. They’ve got two kids.”

There was no way in hell I was correcting her use of present tense. His death clearly shook her.

I felt horrible for Rae. I really hoped it would be a false alarm. Something we could laugh about later. Not a family tragedy that touched our group.

“Let us know if there’s something we can do, for your cousin’s wife or the kids.”

Hugging Rae probably made me feel better than her, but I hated seeing my friend so shaken. Rae was the pragmatistin our group. Incredibly down-to-earth and chill. She worked for her dad’s marine repair shop as a mechanic. She always smelled faintly of the sea and diesel, and today was no different. Reluctantly, I released her.

“How about I cancel my yoga class? We could hang out. Drink our weight in coffee and tea.”

Rae gave a watery chuckle. “As tempting as that sounds, I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to cancel on your students.” She swiped at her eyes. “Zach’s coming to give me a ride to Jia’s; otherwise, I might join you.”

“If you’re not going to let me cancel, then I have to get to the studio for my next class. How about coming over tonight for dinner?” I glanced at my roommate, taking Vi’s nod as consent. “I’ll throw together a big batch of pasta, if you want to invite your brothers and the other SAR volunteers,” I offered. “We can thank them for rolling out of bed early on a Saturday morning and find comfort in carbs.”

“I’ll text them,” Vi said.

I squeezed Rae’s hand one last time and nodded to Lucy. “I’ll see you all tonight then.”

It was difficult to focus on yoga after the morning’s tragedy, but back-to-back classes kept me busy for most of the afternoon. Flowing through the poses, putting my body through its paces, and guiding my students through a simple meditation helped release some of the stuck and stagnant energy collected from the morning.

Reinventing myself meant picking new hobbies. I’d walked past a studio near my no-tell motel in Rapid City, South Dakota, and found my calling when I stepped inside. Focusing only on what happened on my mat kept me centered and protected from my fears. For one precious hour, I’d been able to ignore my racing thoughts. I’d been convinced there was something sacred about those eleven square feet of floor. But with each randomstudio, I discovered the same calm. The same special magic. And I was hooked.

Serenity Yoga was my sanctuary. Purchasing the tiny studio on the edge of downtown was one of my best decisions. A yoga studio couldn’t betray you. I pushed away the bitter thought. Maybe it was destiny that I stumbled past that studio in Rapid City. My Dharma, or path, born from the ashes of my old life. I’d certainly landed on my feet, and for that I could be grateful.

“Goodnight, Anya. See you Tuesday.”

I waved to Merita Rodriguez, one of my regulars, and slowly went through my lockup procedures, checking windows. When I’d taken over Serenity, it was a functional space. Clean and crisp, but with all the personality of a corporate office building. In the last year, I’d painted my primary studio a soft lavender, adding artwork and small touches to make the space feel more like a high-end living room, albeit one without furniture. The outside space was given a similar makeover. The prior owner had mostly let it go to weeds, not interested in using the courtyard for classes.

I loved outdoor yoga, so my first spring project was to overhaul the yard, yanking out the existing vegetation and replanting with a low carpet of soft groundcover and a border of lavender and rosemary. When the weather cooperated, I offered outdoor classes. Locals didn’t mind the ferry horn, and I loved the fresh air.

I checked the studio’s back door, then locked the front on my way out and trudged up the hill. Our tiny house welcomed me, golden light shining from the windows. A giant oak spread across the driveway. The house itself was tiny, overshadowed by the large trees. It was sided in cedar shingles painted blue. Beds of roses and snowcap daisies bobbed beneath the windows in the summer, but the spring flowers were just beginning to sprout and bloom by our mailbox.

C Street overlooked downtown. Our neighbors included a mix of bed-and-breakfasts and small homes. We were close enough to hear the ferry, though trees and buildings obscured the harbor from view. Our island was slowly waking from its winter slumber, getting ready for the crawl of tourists. Soon, we’d have a steady flow of strangers trudging up the hill with us to their lodgings, lugging suitcases and grocery bags from the ferry.

Violet must have had her mom cover her shift at The Salty Pantry, the salt and spice shop her family owned, if she was home already. The Fenwick family was minor royalty on island, and Violet their princess. Which made Drew the heir and Zach the spare, though Violet spoke fondly of her brother Cole, who’d moved away.

The Fenwicks controlled a miniature empire on San Juan: a sea-salt farm, a boutique, the coffee shop, and a string of rental properties across the island. They weren’t rich-rich like some of the estates established by off-islanders with more money than time, but they had their fingers in a shocking number of pies for such a small community.

Violet looked up from her Kindle as I opened the sliding door, entering the house from the back porch. “Hey. How were classes today?”

I slipped off my shoes and joined her in the living room. “Difficult to focus on, but word hasn’t spread yet about Jordan.”

Violet snorted. “Says the woman who hasn’t checked theWhat’s New, Friday Harborpage today. The island watch picked up on Sheriff Walker and the search and rescue crew’s presence almost immediately. There’s been wild speculation all day, but no one spilled the tea.”

“I imagine the sheriff is going to notify next of kin before putting out any kind of statement.”

Vi nodded. “Rae’s been with Jia, Jordan’s wife, all afternoon, trying to entertain the kids. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

“Any idea what he was doing near there? Did they find his boat?”

“No. Drew and Zach should have more information at dinner. You still up for cooking?”

“Um-hm.” I’d worn Drew’s jacket for the walk home. I should give it back to him, but something about the bulk and the hint of his scent comforted me.

“It’ll be Drew, Zach, Lee, and the park ranger who helped them with the search joining us tonight. I can run to the store if we don’t have enough to feed eight.”