Donika watched Franklin carry the plastic bag with the raccoon’s body into the trashcan and throw it inside. She stood on the porch with her arms crossed, holding her cup of coffee and the nook of her elbow, anxiety churning in her stomach.

The raccoon’s death remained a mystery. Nobody understood why a raccoon would suddenly die like that. Had someone poisoned the cake and tried to kill her? It was too preposterous. Was she just being paranoid?

The men in dark suits, who had driven past the day before, still haunted her. She couldn't believe that this was how her life had ended up. What she wouldn't give to know what had caused her to punch Mr. Shyster in the face. She sighed and took another sip of coffee.

As she walked back into the house, she found the guests at the big dining room table, having breakfast as Adele and Pearl kept them entertained. She slid into a chair at the table and dished up a helping of scrambled eggs and bacon, her mind awash with dark thoughts and strange sensations.

“That shifter of yours is awfully handsome,” said Martha, the old woman.

“He is,” Donika said.

“He made a delicious cake,” said Darcy, the middle-aged baking fan. “I wish I'd gotten the last piece.”

“That's what killed the raccoon,” Donika said. Everyone gasped and looked around the table.

“What was in that cake?” asked Emmanuel, the hippy kid.

Everyone looked at each other with suspicion and panic in their eyes. Donika grimaced.

“I thought that shifter owned a bakery. Isn't he in the Great American Bake-off?” said Meg, the yuppie.

“I'm sure it wasn't anything that Grayson did. The raccoon could've died for any reason,” Grandma Pearl said. “I find one of their corpses around here at least once a year. It's nothing I haven't seen before.”

The borders all breathed a sigh of relief and continued eating their breakfast. Donika was beside herself. She’d lost her appetite. She managed to get down a slice of bacon and half an egg's worth of scrambled eggs. She went back to the residents’ quarters, took a shower, and got dressed. Looking at herself in the mirror, she inspected her gaunt face and her pale skin. She hadn't gotten any sun in so long, her milk chocolate skin had turned pale and translucent. She sighed and brushed her hair and put it back in a braid.

Donika dressed in comfortable clothes and warm boots and headed outside for a walk. She needed to clear her head. As she started down the trail around the lake, she noticed a dark SUV again. It was parked in the road across the street. As soon as they saw that she'd spotted them, they drove away. She shook her head. It probably wasn't even the same car.

Her health problems were just making her paranoid. Mr. Shyster was trying to deprive her of everything she owned. But he did that to everyone. It wasn't any different than any other legal case.

She'd instigated the same tactics on cheating spouses and business partners many times in the past. She was just letting her imagination get away from her. She really should go see a doctor about the blackouts, but she’d convinced herself that all she really needed was some wholesome home cooking, fresh air, and enough sleep.

The night she’d spent in the boat with Grayson, sleeping in his arms with the scent of his body wafting into her nose, had been so cozy. They'd slept on the pullout bed in the cabin as they watched the stars out the sunroof. It was probably one of the most romantic dates she'd ever been on. Even though it had been impromptu and ended with a dead raccoon.

She sighed as she continued down the trail, breathing in the cool, fresh lake air as she walked. She wondered to herself why she hadn’t been home in so long. But she knew the answer. She'd been trying to achieve something. To be more and better than where she’d come from. As she continued along the well-worn trail that she knew so well from her childhood, she couldn't really understand why.

Donika had accomplished a lot. Most of the goals she’d had in life so far, she’d achieved. She was proud of herself for that. Why shouldn't she be? She picked up a rock from the shore and threw it out on the lake. It skipped across the surface of the still water. Did any of her achievements even matter?

The stillness of the air and the fresh scent of fallen leaves reminded her of her childhood. Back when her father was still alive, he used to take her fishing with her little sister Kamala on the boat. Adele would make them sandwiches to eat for lunch, and it was just the three of them.

Maybe she’d just been trying to prove something to herself. Maybe she wanted to believe that she could do anything. She could. Couldn’t she? But trying to prove it to herself had led her to running away from everyone and everything she knew.

Maybe being fired was really a blessing in disguise. Now that she'd met Grayson, she was beginning to believe it was. Could she stay in Fate Valley and be with him? Could she live a simple life and start a family with the burly, outdoorsy baker she’d just met?

She continued walking along the trail, telling herself she didn't have to make any decisions yet. They called Fate Valley by its name because strange and wonderful things were known to happen there. Shifters believed that they had fated mates and that was part of why they'd settled in Fate Valley.

They came for the energy of the place, to have their lives, and start their families. Who was she to disagree with what the fates might bring? It was a shifter belief system, but she liked it all the same. Wouldn't it be nice if fate gave you everything you needed in the end?

She let out a deep sigh as she continued hiking through the forest. The ground was damp with dew and sunlight twinkled in the drops that caught on the new, green grass shoots emerging in the dark rich soil.

All these strange thoughts about fate and falling in love with a man she’d just met. It really wasn't like her at all. But then again, maybe she needed to become someone new. Maybe she just needed to start over.

Donika finally turned around and headed home, feeling as confused as she had before. By the time she made it to the inn, she was convinced that giving Grayson a shot was the best thing for her right now. Even if she didn't really understand it or know if she was going to stay in Fate Valley or not.

As she walked up the porch steps and glanced at where the raccoon had died, she told herself that it was just a coincidence. Like Grandma Pearl had said, one of those varmints ended up dead on the property at least once a year. It wasn’t a big deal—it happened all the time. It could've been anything that killed it. Maybe it had gotten a hold of rat poison. It wasn’t worth getting all worked up about.

She slipped through the front door of the house and found the guests in the living room, drinking tea and watching the fire flicker in the stone fireplace. Pearl waved, and Martha lifted her teacup in greeting. Donika nodded at them, smiled, and ducked back into the residents’ quarters, shutting herself in the craft room.

Her mother's beadwork, sewing, and quilting weren’t any more organized than they had been that morning. Continued exposure made the mess a little less irritating than it had been. Donika was a woman who was used to having everything tidy and in its proper place.

She looked at the swatches of fabric and began to arrange them on the table. Her mother had taught her to sew as a kid and it was the kind of thing you never really forgot. She needed something to take her mind off her problems, so she continued pinning the swatches of fabric together, making patterns out of the colors. By the time she was done, she'd pinned together the top layer of an entire quilt.

“Might as well sew it together now,” she muttered to herself, sitting down at the sewing machine.

She put the pressure foot down on to the fabric and pressed the pedal of the sewing machine, starting the needle over the fabric. Sewing a quilt was the last thing she would've expected to do a week ago. But now that she was home in Fate Valley, it just felt right.