The first thing I saw after slipping back into Bellwether Bay was a stranger opening the bathroom door while I was in the tub. The second was the bankruptcy notice taped to the cottage's front door, addressed to my brother. I'd come home from London to warn Noah that someone had been moving money through his company. Instead, I found Owen Kells, the restructuring consultant now inventorying the family boatyard, staring at me in alarm and calling my brother to say I'd returned. Noah had spent years promising he would never use my name to save his business. But a personal guarantee bearing my signature had helped sink us both. If I challenged it, I could lose more than the boatyard. I could lose the only family I had left. Was Noah's betrayal the price of protecting me, or had he finally decided I was expendable?