Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
C helsea sat on the bungalow's porch in the early morning light, coffee growing cold beside her as she scrolled through Sarah Miller's Instagram feed for the third time.
Each photo felt like a punch to the gut—not just because of the girl's uncanny resemblance to Kaitlyn, but because of what these images represented. Years of family gatherings, holidays, and milestones that should have included both sisters. Years of Gretchen's careful deception.
Ernest strutted past, pausing to eye her coffee cup with his usual literary criticism. The rooster had become an odd source of consistency in the chaos of the past twenty-four hours.
"Don’t even think about it or you’ll be taking a nap on a plate tonight,” Chelsea warned. “How’d you like to be thought of as the main course?”
"He prefers 'literary consultant,'" Leah said, appearing in the doorway with her own coffee. “We thought about naming him Hemingway but decided Ernest was a better fit. And he's very particular about proper coffee appreciation."
Chelsea managed a weak smile. "How long did it take you to process this? About Sarah, I mean?"
Leah settled into the chair beside her, considering. "Still processing, honestly. Every time I think I've wrapped my head around it, I remember something else—some conversation with Gretchen, some moment that means something entirely different now."
"I feel the same. That whole mess when you all came to Captiva the first time and I came running after you to give you money to get started. And then, my wedding. I can’t stop thinking about it all. She’s moved to Captiva and we’ve become close, at least closer than we have in years. She’s had plenty of time over these last few months to tell me.”
Leah nodded. “I know. The whole thing is crazy. Why would she do this? It’s one thing not to tell us, but her own daughter? What could she have been thinking?”
“I was thinking about when Kaitlyn came to stay with me right after high school. She didn’t want to go to college, and I think she spent that summer on Captiva to get away from her mother. Gretchen could have told both of us then. It would have been the perfect opportunity.”
Leah nodded. "I’d forgotten about that. You know what I love? I love that our sweet niece runs to her aunts when life gets too tough. I hate to see her hurt, but it warms my heart to know that she runs to us when she is.”
Chelsea laughed. “Leave it to Kaitlyn to come to three childless women for advice.”
Leah chuckled. “You’ve got a good point there. I guess she gets all our undivided attention because of that. Kaitlyn’s the daughter we never had.”
“Have you called her?" Chelsea asked, though she already knew the answer. None of them had responded to Gretchen's increasingly frequent attempts at contact.
"What would I say? 'Hey sis, remember all those times you talked about honesty and family? Funny story…'" Leah shook her head. "I'm not ready."
Chelsea shrugged. “Well, by now, she’s got to realize that we all know the truth. She’ll be in Key West any day now. You mark my words.”
Chelsea and Leah watched as a delivery truck backed up to Paradise Harbor House. The shelter was coming back to life after yesterday's air conditioning crisis, its routines returning to normal even as their family's foundations shook.
Leah nodded toward the street where Will approached with his camera equipment. "Kaitlyn agreed to let him document some of Paradise Harbor House’s programs today. Elena thinks it'll help with grant applications."
Will waved to them as they watched him set up his tripod, his movements careful and precise. Kaitlyn emerged from the house, and even from the porch, Chelsea could see how her niece's whole demeanor changed around him—softening, opening up.
"He's good for her," Chelsea observed. "Her face lights up when he smiles at her."
"Wouldn’t you if you were her? The guy is gorgeous, and sweet," Tess said, joining them with a plate of Cuban bread from the bakery. “Will gets her. He’s kind and patient with everyone. You should see how he handles the shelter residents—always asking permission, always making sure they're comfortable with being filmed."
Kaitlyn looked more put-together than she had yesterday, though shadows still lingered under her eyes.
"Morning," she said cautiously, her gaze flickering between her aunts. "Will's going to interview Carla today. She finally agreed, as long as we don't show the kids' faces."
"That's huge," Tess said. "She hasn't wanted to talk to anyone about her story."
"I know." Kaitlyn's pride was evident. "She's starting training at Harbor Lights today too. Jamie created a position specifically for her."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow at Tess, noting her sister's slight blush at the restaurant owner's name. Clearly, there were other developments she needed to catch up on.
“Who’s Jamie?” Chelsea asked, staring at Tess, who blushed and walked away.
Leah smiled. “That’s a topic for another day,” she whispered so she didn’t disturb Elena’s phone call.
"Yes, I understand the importance of proper permits," Elena said, her tone professionally pleasant despite the tension in her shoulders. "But surely there's some way to expedite…I see. Yes, thank you anyway."
She hung up, managed a smile, and said, "Good morning, everyone. Will, Carla's ready whenever you are. She's in the garden with the children."
As Will and Kaitlyn headed toward the back of the house, Chelsea found herself drawn to the bulletin board in the common room. It was covered in success stories—photos of women holding apartment keys or job offers, children's artwork, thank-you notes written in various hands. All these lives touched by this place, all these stories of healing and hope.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Elena appeared beside her. "Sometimes I look at this board when funding falls through or bureaucracy gets overwhelming. Reminds me why we keep fighting."
"Is that what the phone call was about? Fighting bureaucracy?"
Elena sighed. "Building permits for some necessary repairs. Everything takes twice as long and costs three times as much as it should. But we'll figure it out. We always do."
Through the window, they could see Will setting up his equipment in the garden. Carla sat on a bench nearby, watching her children play while answering his preliminary questions. Her posture was tense but determined.
"She's come so far," Elena said softly. "When she first arrived, she wouldn't even let us take her photo for our files. Now she's willing to share her story to help others."
In the garden, Dominic was showing Will his collection of toy cars, explaining something with great enthusiasm while his mother looked on with a mixture of pride and protective concern. Christina helped Jack arrange his blocks, her natural caregiving instincts evident even in play.
"Jamie's taking a risk," Elena continued. "Training someone with no restaurant experience, working around school schedules for the kids. But he believes in second chances. She’ll start tonight, and I know everything will work out for her and her family with all of us helping and believing in her."
"Seems to be a lot of that going around," Chelsea observed, thinking of her sisters' own journey of reinvention. “Jamie? Is he a good guy?” she asked, wondering how important he was to Tess.
Elena nodded. “One of the best. Jack’s a good man too. We’re lucky to have such support.”
Inside, the shelter hummed with activity. Women attended job training workshops, worked with counselors, or simply found quiet moments to breathe and plan. Children’s laughter echoed from the playroom where volunteers led activities. It was organized chaos, but chaos with purpose.
Chelsea watched as Leah spread grant paperwork across a table, Jack beside her offering guidance. Their heads bent close together as they worked, and Chelsea didn’t miss the way their hands brushed “accidentally” as they reached for the same document.
“Your sisters have become integral parts of our community,” Elena said, following her gaze. “Sometimes the right people find us exactly when we need them.”
Chelsea marveled at how much her sisters had changed in such a short time. The self-absorbed women she had once known were long gone. She had always believed that Gretchen was the stable, responsible sibling, stuck in a marriage with a husband who didn’t appreciate her. But now, Chelsea wasn’t so sure which of her siblings were truly the stable ones.
At Harbor Lights, Carla stood in the gleaming kitchen, taking in the professional equipment with wide eyes. Jamie moved around the space with practiced ease, explaining procedures and safety protocols while Will filmed discreetly from the corner.
"We'll start you on prep work," he said, "then move on to basic cooking techniques. The hours work around your kids' schedules, and there's room for advancement if you're interested."
Carla nodded, her fingers twisting the edge of her apron. "I've never…I mean, I cook for my family, but nothing like this."
"Everyone starts somewhere," Jamie said kindly. "And you've got something that can't be taught—determination."
Tess appeared in the doorway then, and Chelsea noticed how Jamie's whole demeanor brightened. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
"Thought we’d stop by and see how everything's going," Tess said, though her eyes were fixed on Jamie.
"Perfect timing," Jamie replied. "We're about to start Carla's training with the world's most important kitchen skill—organizing everything before you begin preparations."
"Everything in its place," Tess translated, smiling at Carla.
Will finished taking photos of Carla at Harbor Lights and walked back toward Kaitlyn’s place. He’d parked there earlier hoping he’d have some quiet time with her. So much was going on around them, unless they escaped to the beach, they weren’t getting much time to spend, just the two of them.
When he reached her house, he packed up his equipment and then spent a few minutes cleaning the inside of his car before knocking on her door.
Kaitlyn and her aunts were gathered around the kitchen table with takeout from Harbor Lights. The day's events had left them all quietly contemplative.
"I've been thinking," Chelsea said finally, setting down her fork. "About Sarah."
Kaitlyn tensed slightly but nodded for her aunt to continue.
"She deserves to know about you, Kaitlyn. I think after all this time, your mother won’t fight you on that.”
"I know," Kaitlyn said softly. "But how? How do you just appear in someone's life and say, 'Surprise, I'm your secret sister'?"
"First of all, what makes you so sure she doesn’t know about you? Just because your mother kept this from all of us doesn’t mean your father or his new wife kept you a secret from Sarah.”
“That’s right, Kaitlyn. It’s possible she already knows about you,” Leah added.
“I don’t know,” Kaitlyn said. “I don’t know how to…”
“Carefully," Chelsea replied. "With support. With understanding that her world is about to shift just as much as yours did." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "And maybe with the help of someone who knows how to tell difficult stories with sensitivity."
They all looked toward the window where Will was hanging around his car looking like a lost puppy. His camera gear packed away after a day of documenting other people's journeys toward truth and healing, Chelsea could tell he was waiting for the right time to come inside.
"He'd help," Tess said quietly. "If you asked."
Kaitlyn nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm just…I'm scared. What if she hates me? What if she blames me somehow?"
"Then we'll deal with that together," Leah said firmly. "That's what family does—the real kind, not the Instagram perfect version."
Through the window, they could see Ernest settling in for the night, his silhouette regal against the darkening sky.
Chelsea's phone buzzed again—Gretchen, still trying to reach them. She silenced it, knowing she’d answer her sister soon.
"You know what else family does?" she said, reaching for her niece's hand. "Family shows up. Even when it's hard. Even when it's scary. Even when the timing isn't perfect."
"Even when you're not sure you're ready?" Kaitlyn asked softly.
"Especially then," Chelsea confirmed, thinking of her own impulsive flight to Key West, of all the ways love made you brave even when you didn't feel ready at all. “But right now, there’s a young man outside who, if you don’t go out and talk to him, might start talking to Ernest.”
They all laughed, and for a moment all negativity was put aside, in favor of watching two young people find joy in the simple act of holding hands.