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Tara Blake sat back in her home office, eyes narrowing at the barrage of text messages from her sort-of ex. The tone of each one was more biting than the last, dripping with equal parts resentment and lingering affection. She scrolled through the messages, each one more passive-aggressive than the next.

The latest read: You know I still care about you, right? I’m trying so hard to make this work, but I need you to want it too. If you don’t fix this, I’m not sure I can keep waiting.

Tara tossed her phone onto the desk, feeling angry and bored of this cycle. The last few months had been a series of messy late-night arguments and endless baiting texts. She was sick of it. But Paige wasn’t letting it go, and Tara didn’t know what she should do about it. This breakup simply wouldn’t take.

The phone buzzed. But this time, it wasn’t Paige’s name on the screen. It was an old friend, Clare.

Tara snatched it up, eager for a distraction from the personal drama.

‘Hey, how’s the horrors of working for a dying medium?’ Clare greeted her.

Though she’d graduated with the same journalism degree as Tara, she’d traded the freelance life for something more stable long ago, working for the Harborbrook City Council’s marketing department.

‘Great? How’s life as an office drone?’ Tara replied easily.

This was how they always talked to each other. Tara always wondered if the joke was really a joke.

‘Actually, you’re about to be very glad I’m a drone. Because I wouldn’t have this tip for you otherwise.’

‘Tip?’

‘Yup. You’re always looking for stuff about Solhaven, right?’

Tara perked up. ‘I am,’ she said, trying to sound casual.

But she was far from disinterested. Ever since she’d heard about the weird little island a few miles off the coast of Harborbrook that banned strangers, she’d wanted to write an exposé. But leads were thin to non-existent. Until now?

‘Well, I overheard something in the breakroom. There’s a visitor coming next week, someone to handle the land negotiations.’

Tara’s pulse quickened, all thoughts of Paige evaporating. ‘Who’s coming?’ she asked, trying not to betray her excitement.

‘Her name is Mabel. I didn’t catch the second name,’ Clare said. ‘They talked about her like she’d been before. I got the impression she’s an old lady?’

‘What else do you know?’ Tara asked eagerly.

‘I know I want a percentage of your fee.’

Tara grinned to herself. ‘Should have known. You can have five percent of the article fee.’

‘Seven.’

‘Six, and I need to know as much detail as possible about the schedule of the visit.’

‘I’ll give you what I could glean. The meeting is set for Thursday; she comes in by boat the day before.’

‘Where?

‘Don’t know.’

‘Not really earning that six percent, Clare.’

‘All I know is there’s some fishing trawler she’s coming on. The name is weird… Uh… The Selkie something.’

Tara noted it down. ‘It’s something.’

Tara sat back in her chair, her ex’s bitter messages forgotten, replaced by the rush of a story she could sink her teeth into.

She pulled up her notes on Solhaven, scanning the sparse details she’d gathered over the years. It was a strange little place, shrouded in mystery, a commune that was rumoured to be a mix of Amish utopia and cultish fortress, where no one had set foot for a hundred years or so but its residents.

And if Tara knew one thing, it was that a place like that, left to its own devices, would get weird. The only question was, how weird? What could they be getting up to? Where on the scale of Jonestown to Heaven’s Gate were they?

Getting any solid intel was next to impossible. But now, with this Mabel person coming to the mainland, this was her chance to get the scoop. She could surprise her, maybe get an interview. At the very least, one good quote could be spun into something interesting.

The only thing left to do was figure out how to get to Mabel before anyone else could. She checked the number for the port authority and called it.

After a few rings, a man picked up. ‘Harborbrook Port Authority, this is Dan.’

Tara softened her voice, adding just a hint of vulnerability. ‘Hi, Dan. My name is Sarah McDougall. I’ve got a bit of an unusual request, and I’m hoping you can help me.’

‘Sure, what’s going on?’ His tone was friendly but guarded.

Tara took a deep breath. ‘Well, I’m trying to track down a fishing trawler. I don’t remember the full name, but I think it starts with the word “Selkie.” You know, the mythical thing? Like a siren, but not? I’m not sure about the rest. It’s—well, it’s kind of important I find it.’ She let the last part hang in the air.

There was a pause on the other end. ‘Selkie?’

‘I know it’s not a lot,’ she said, her voice wobbling just enough to be convincing. ‘But… I met the captain, you see. A couple of months ago. It’s complicated, but I’m… I’m pregnant, Dan. And the captain, I—I can’t remember much about him. He mentioned the boat, but I don’t remember the full name.’ She let the words trail off, punctuating her vulnerability with a sigh. ‘But I need to find him. I need to find the boat. I just don’t know where else to turn.’

‘Pregnant?’ He sounded uncertain like he wasn’t sure whether he should be sympathetic or suspicious.

Tara’s voice cracked, just for a second. ‘I don’t have any family,’ she told him. That, at least, was honest. ‘I can’t do this alone, and I can’t get in touch with him. I don’t even know where to start.’

Dan’s voice softened. ‘Gimme a second.’

Cracked it.

There was the sound of some keyboard taps and then, ‘Alright. There’s a trawler named Selkie’s Whisper that docks at Dock 38, a bit out of the way, but you can look up the location. It’s registered to a Tom Hargreaves?’

‘Yes, that’s him!’ Tara said enthusiastically.

‘I hope that helps. And… I hope things work out for you.’

Tara offered a soft, grateful laugh. ‘Thank you, Dan. You’ve really helped me. Thank you so much.’

‘Take care,’ he said kindly.

Tara hung up. She had the information she needed, and now it was just a matter of staking the place out on Thursday.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming text from Paige: Are you still ignoring me? Or are you too busy chasing down stupid bullshit stories to even care? I think you ought to remember that your job won’t keep you warm at night.

Tara rolled her eyes and tossed the phone aside. Paige didn’t get it. She never had.

The phone buzzed again, Paige’s name lighting up the screen. Tara picked it up, glanced at the notification, and then hit mute without reading the message. She didn’t have time for guilt right now. She had a story to chase.

Tomorrow, she'd start preparing for Mabel’s arrival. Whatever Solhaven was hiding, Tara Blake was going to find it.