Then she spotted something odd. Lurking behind the excavator was that brown dog. It walked slowly, sniffing the ground around it before stopping by a small dirt mound created by the workers. It sat there, nonchalant, scanning the area. Who was its owner?

  She remembered what her mother asked. The workers wouldn’t get to that area of the clearing that day, she thought, so without turning away from the dog, Skye spoke. “Kris, I need your help with something. I’m looking for someone who goes by the name Tabitha Msaro. Have you ever heard of her?”

  “Tabitha Msaro? Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Skye licked her fingers from doughnut treat number two. “She’s a long-lost family friend from when we lived here. I remember vaguely how she looked, but it wouldn’t matter now. It’s been decades. She used to visit a lot and was very close to Mom.” She took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “She was also an ally when we had to fight for things. Maybe, once we find her, she can help me get out of this.”

  “You think she’ll still have the influence she once had? Because if she was shaking tables, I would’ve heard of her by now.”

  Skye shrugged. “Well, whether she can help me or not, I don’t know, but Mom wanted me to find her. As for this battle with the land, I’m just not sure what to do, but I do know if I’m not careful, Marge might swindle this land away from me out of spite. There’s no coming back from that.”

  “Girl, you know life always has curveballs. You’ll get through this,” Kris replied. “So, what’s next with this?”

  “Well, I’ve already paid for the work and have all the approvals I need. So, we keep going.”

  “No easing up?”

  “No easing up,” Skye replied, knowing those words guaranteed a showdown with Marge.

  4

  It wasn’t long before Skye’s resolve was tested again. That afternoon, Marge returned, but she wasn’t alone. By her side was a potbellied man with a toothpick dangling from the edge of his mouth. He walked with the swagger of one who owned the world. Behind the pair were seven locals.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Kris muttered under her breath.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Skye replied as she braced herself.

  “Enough of this!” Marge bellowed even before she got to where Skye and Kris stood. “You’re going to tell them to stop!”

  Skye bit her tongue, keen to control the situation—and her emotions—if she could.

  “You hear me?” Marge said, closing in on them. “Tell them to stop. Now.”

  Skye held Marge’s gaze, silently marveling at the rage in her eyes. The woman sure was worked up. Skye pursed her lips, trying to decide how to handle the situation. What she really wanted to do was tell Marge to take a hike, but then she had a better idea. She lifted her head and motioned for the men to stop. Shovels were tossed aside, wheelbarrows set down, and the earthmover’s engine turned off. The workers watched and waited.

  “Marge, why did you have to bring all these people?” Skye asked.

  “I told you there’s more to this than just me. Everyone here has a stake in this community.”

  Skye studied the crowd once more. The potbellied man with the toothpick had a folder in his hands. He was either a council colleague or her lawyer. Behind them, four men and three women stood. One of the men was the one who had waved at Skye from Marge’s porch. If he was her husband, he matched his wife’s age, and the wrinkles around his neck and eyes stood out whenever he spoke or smiled. Only one person in the crowd looked polished. The rest were rough around the edges. Skye estimated their ages ranged from mid-twenties to early forties. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if some of them were hired to appear there.

  “Hello, neighbors.” Skye gave a slight wave. Only three replied with a “hello.” The rest stood poker-faced or fidgeting.

  “I’m no neighbor,” the potbellied man said. “I’m Linus Pende, and I work with the council. You might want to read this.” He leafed out a document from the folder and handed it to her.

  Skye took it and looked it over. “What’s this?”

  “The agreement we drafted with neighbors,” Marge said. “Clause six-point-seven tells you that you can’t build a motel here.”

  Sure enough, the clause said something close to it. No resident of Fedha will construct a multi-story building on their property unless they’ve lived in the area for ten years or more. Approval for such property development requires environmental assessment and consensus from all residents before commencing.

  Skye looked up from the document. “No one at the council mentioned it when I was getting my approvals. Did you draft this earlier today?”

  Linus turned up his nose. “Where are those approvals you’re referring to?”

  Skye motioned to Kris, who showed them all the original council approval documents. When Linus tried to grab them, Kris stepped back and scowled.

  Skye felt a little wave of victory. She knew she had a strong case, and from the look on Marge’s face, she was beginning to realize that as well. Not that she’d ever admit it.

  Marge grunted. “Well, that’s nice. But the fact still remains that our neighborhood agreement stands above this one.”

  Skye shook her head. “Nice try, but the approvals are the ruling documents.”

  “Our agreement is protected by the council bylaws. You’ll have to obey them. You’re not building that motel here, honey. Isn’t that so, Nelson?”

  The man Skye considered Marge’s husband nodded. “Yeah. It’s a no-go.” The crowd nodded in unison.

  Skye bit her lower lip. Even though she legally had every right to continue working on the property, she was beginning to realize that Marge wasn’t going to back down, and now she was pulling in other people. How in the world was she going to handle this woman? Skye turned to Kris, who shrugged in response.

  Unwilling to fold so easily, Skye turned to face Marge. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so smug. You could have the rug pulled from under your feet when you least expect it.”

  Marge’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?”

  “It sounded like a threat to me,” Nelson chimed in.

  Although Skye meant that the law would clarify things, she realized in hindsight that her words had sounded like a threat. “It wasn’t. I just meant that we should call our lawyers to resolve this.”

  “Then why didn’t you just say that? Why use a threatening line like that?” Marge asked. She turned to her entourage. “She sounded like she’s going to come after me, didn’t she?”

  The small crowd shouted back in agreement, fired up by their leader.

  Skye’s stomach sank. It seemed every move she made with Marge was the wrong one. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Skye shouted to ensure everyone could hear her repentance. “I mean no harm and want to solve this peacefully.”

  The crowd’s murmurs continued. With a firm hold, Kris pulled Skye back.

  “You can’t bicker with her,” Kris whispered.

  “Why not?” Skye whispered back.

  “Because she’ll ruin you. Just take a deep breath and soften up a little.”

  Skye closed her eyes and held in her frustration as best as she could. “You’re asking me to give up.”

  “Girl, I’m just asking you to change your strategy.”

  “They’ll walk all over me.”

  Kris gently placed her hands on Skye’s shoulders. “Look at me. I’ve got your back. I’ll help you sort this out, but you have to trust me.”

  They held gazes, and Skye’s demeanor softened. “Okay. For now.”

  “Exactly. For now.”

  Skye composed herself and walked back to Marge.

  “Fair enough,” Skye said. “We’ll put a hold on the work until all this is cleared up.”

  Marge smirked. “Good.”

  Skye walked over to her foreman. “Hey, Mike, I need to you wrap up for the day. We have to sort this out.”

  He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Are you sure?”

  “Not really, but this is best decision at the moment.”

  He nodded and adjusted his hardhat. “Alright. How about payment?”

  “I’ll pay for the work done today. Just send me the invoice,” Skye replied.

  He glanced at Marge and looked back to Skye. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—to help you deal with them, give me a call.”

  Skye forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

  “You’ve got a good heart. My offer still stands.” With that, he turned and called to his men, “Let’s shut down for the day!”

  Moments later, the men started packing their gear.

  Skye walked back to Marge. “Okay, I guess we’re done here—for now.”

  “We’ll wait until they’re gone,” Marge replied.

  Skye’s mouth dropped open. Did Marge really think she was just pretending to have the workers stop? Apparently, that was exactly what she thought because, sure enough, the small crowd hung around until the foreman and his men drove off in their truck.

  “Satisfied?” Skye looked at Marge.

  “For now. I’ll talk to the association and inform you of a date when you can present to us your ideas for the place. But the law still stands, so it might be a waste of time.” Marge turned to leave.

  Skye wanted to say that the whole idea was a silly waste of time, but a stern look from Kris changed her mind.

  “Alright. I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” Skye said.

  As the small crowd turned to leave, Nelson winked at Skye. Skye raised a brow. What was that for? Was Marge’s husband making a pass at her? She bit her lower lip, wondering what the man was thinking, then watched them walk off with a sense of arrogance in their gait.

  Kris put a hand on her left shoulder. “Let’s get out of here and get you some Swahili food. You know eating makes everything better.”

  Skye didn’t object, and they went to Msafi’s Cove, a restaurant built from coral rock next to a line of ancient caves. They talked about the incident until Skye felt her nerves calm down. The hearty meal of pilau, a spicy rice with pieces of barbecued meat, alongside fresh mango juice helped too.

  When Skye couldn’t pack in another bite, she looked at Kris. “You were right. The food helped.”

  Kris laughed, nodding in agreement. “You know I’m always right! Let’s go back to the apartment and watch a movie,” Kris suggested. “Or do you want to go watch a live band? I hear Sam and the Rowers are playing tonight. I have the perfect dress⁠—”

  “Not interested.” Skye interrupted. The last thing she needed was loud music and chaos. No, after all the stress of arguing with Marge, she needed to continue unwinding. She sipped her half-full glass of juice and suddenly got a great idea. “Actually, you know what I’d like to do? Lie down on the sand and watch the stars.”

  Kris frowned. “You want to go to the beach?”

  “I want to go to my beach. I’m going back to the land to camp for the night. There’s a beautiful full moon.”

  Kris’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t have to do this, you know. Don’t let them get to you.”

  “This isn’t about them. This is about me.”

  Kris placed a hand on Skye’s arm. “But…there’s nothing out there. No fence, no security, nothing. You’ll be all alone out there, for what?”

  Despite her friend’s displeasure, Skye didn’t budge. She was determined to sleep on her land. After dinner, Skye hopped in the Volkswagen and drove back to the property. However, Kris made her promise to text every half-hour. It was a ridiculous thing to ask since the whole point was to get some sleep, but she agreed anyway.

  She parked close to the sandy beach. The camper van would be her bedroom that night. The breeze was warm, the sky clear, and the full moon had an ash-colored glow like a lightbulb in the sky.

  As night fell, she spread a leso—a colorful traditional Swahili shawl—on the sand and lay down facing the sky. She inhaled the salty air and closed her eyes, listening to the splashing waves. Her sense of time disappeared.

  Her reverie was broken when her phone rang. Its digital ringtone stained the bliss of the night, and for a moment, Skye considered ignoring it, but then she glanced at the screen. It was Kris.

  “Yeah?”

  “Girl, what happened to the regular half-hour text?”

  Skye rubbed her left eye. “Sorry, I drifted into a nap.”

  “You’re cute. Listen, I just got off the phone with my contact. I think I know where Tabitha is.”

  Skye didn’t know why, but the news filled her eyes with tears.

  5

  “Are you okay? I can hear sniffling.”

  Skye wiped away her tears, wondering why in the world she was crying. She should be happy. Moving to Fedha was the adventure of a lifetime, and she was about to make her dreams come true—if only Marge wasn’t causing trouble. Why did life always have to throw curveballs? “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m coming down there.”

  “Honestly, I’m great. I just needed to let it out. It’s been a long day.”

  Kris sighed. “Okay, but what about Tabitha? Do you still want to meet her?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you to find her if I didn’t.”

  “Alright. I’ll set it up in the morning. Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Relax. Thanks for everything today, Kris, you’re a real friend.”

  “Just take care of yourself for me, will you? And remember, texts every half-hour.”

  Skye smiled. “It’s kind of hard to do that while sleeping.”

  “Alright, at least every hour then.”

  Skye chuckled at her overprotective friend. “I’ll remember.”

  She hung up and spent an hour staring at the moon and stars. Slowly, her emotions eased again. Nature always had a way of grounding her. It was something she’d missed in the big city, and once again, she was thankful she’d been brave enough to make some changes in her life.

  After a quick text to Kris, she rose, gathered the leso, and walked back to the van. That was when she saw the stray dog again. It couldn’t hide in the bushes or the shadows, for its brown coat wouldn't let it. Just like before, the dog was staring at her, almost as if she’d stolen his rest area.

  Eager not to provoke an attack, Skye strode to the van, never letting her eyes off the animal. Once inside, she raised all the windows and locked the doors, then she crept on all fours to the back, which had a modified bed.

  Sleep came quickly, and Skye dreamed about the ocean. She was on a single-engine boat, and although the cruise started peacefully, the waves slowly became bigger until they started thrashing around the vessel. She was tossed about, struggling to keep hold while getting drenched in seawater. She shouted for help, unable to control the craft, but no one could hear her. She shouted again. Then she heard it—a distant voice.

  “Get out,” it said.

  Skye tried mouthing some words, but for some reason, she’d lost her voice. She reached up to grab the mast but lost her balance and missed it.

  “I said, get out!”

  The voice was more real, more urgent. Skye tried to shout, but nothing came out. A huge wave towered over her like a skyscraper, and suddenly, she was flung into the air. She was weightless, flailing through space, waiting for an eternity to make impact and get swallowed by the angry ocean depths when…

  She awakened. She sat up in her van’s narrow bed, panting and sweaty. Her eyes blinked fast, trying to make sense of where she was. She was in the van, but what was that noise?

  Someone was knocking vigorously on the side of the van.

  “Get out!” a male voice shouted.

  Skye’s heart started to race. What was going on? From the drawn curtains, she could see streaks of daylight coming in. It was morning. But who was knocking—and yelling? Was it one of the workers?

  She rubbed her eyes before pulling open the side door. Standing outside was an angry Nelson staring at her. “You did it, didn’t you?”

  Confused, Skye mumbled, “Did what?”

  “You killed her, didn’t you?”

  Skye frowned. Was he talking about the dog? Before she could answer, she heard sirens approach. Nelson turned to the approaching cars, and Skye did the same.

  Two police cars pulled over to the side of the road. Three uniformed officers and a detective in a light jacket got out.

  “Hey!” Nelson called. “Over here. Come get her.”

  Skye’s eyes widened. She grabbed Nelson’s arm. “Wait, what do you mean ‘come get her’? What’s going on?”

  Nelson shrugged her off, taking a step backward. “Don’t touch me with those hands.”

  Skye glanced at her hands and saw nothing odd about them. “I don’t understand.”

  “Why did you have to kill her?”

  “Kill who?”

  “Marge is dead. You killed her!”

  Skye stood in a daze. “What do you mean she’s dead?” Skye asked.

  “Are you deaf?” Nelson retorted.

  She didn’t believe it. Her lips were dry. “I have to see her for myself.”

  Nelson grunted. “So you can do what, gloat?”

  “I just need to see her,” Skye muttered, wondering if she was still dreaming.

  Subtly, she reached up to the back of her neck and gave herself a little pinch. Ouch. Unfortunately, it seemed like she really was awake, but still…none of this made sense. Marge was dead? And Nelson thought she was responsible?

  At that point, a couple police officers walked up to her.

  “Nelson told me what’s going on, officers, but he’s lying. I didn’t do anything to Marge.”

  The two officers exchanged glances, then radioed a colleague inside the house. Moments later, they nodded. “Let’s go to the house.”