Silent Harbour

Chapter 1: Homecoming

September 19, 2025

It was nearing eight o'clock in the morning, and the rhythmic thumps of the tires against the uneven paved roads were the only thing keeping me awake after an overly ambitious 9-hour overnight drive from Toronto. Despite the weariness in my bones, a sense of unease nestles in the pit of my stomach as the small town I once called home 14 years ago draws closer.

Silent Harbour. The words were beautifully scrawled on a weathered sign; the town's tranquil lake was painted as a backdrop. It reminds me of when I last spoke with my father on the phone about my impending return. Even after all these years, he couldn't resist making a quip about the town's founders unintentionally predicting its current state. The once-beloved lake, where children revelled in sunny afternoons and families hosted lively parties, now lies empty and quiet. No longer a pitstop or final destination, just a mere vehicle for passing through. The lakeside had lost its charm, a silent witness to the passage of time.

Turning into the driveway, my gaze instinctively drifts upward to the windows that adorn my old bedroom, perched atop the garage. The latter, I'm certain, now houses a collection of sentimental clutter my parents couldn't bring themselves to part with before embarking on their newfound status as empty-nesters, venturing out to explore the world. Despite their occasional visits to town, the years have turned these returns into sporadic events. After nearly a decade of debating with them, we reached a begrudging agreement: the memories and nostalgia embedded in the property were no longer worth the financial toll of its upkeep. My triumph was short-lived, however. Since it was my suggestion, my parents deemed it only fair that I assume the responsibility of managing the sale. Approaching the porch leading to the familiar oak door, I find myself already counting down the days until I descend those steps for the last time, bidding farewell to this house and town that should rightly remain in the past.

**********

Ding dong.

Startled awake from a much-needed nap, I'm interrupted by the persistent knocking at the front door. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, a fine layer of dust triggering childhood allergies, I discover it's now 5:37 pm. Despite having slept for a solid nine hours, the fatigue lingers. I flick on the light in my childhood bedroom just as the uninvited guest rings the doorbell once more. Initially, I consider ignoring the intrusion, but in my post-nap haze, I realize I've left the curtains open, betraying my presence. Descending the stairs, I hastily run my hands through my hair, attempting to untangle the knots from my restless sleep. Whoever is on the other side of the door will have to excuse my dishevelled appearance; after all, I had no plans today that warranted looking presentable.

"As I live and breathe. Little Emmy is back in town".

"Mrs. Gray" I replied. "Lovely to see you".

"When I saw the shiny new car in the driveway, I rang up your folks. Of course, they didn't pick up - I don't remember the last time they did on the first try. What country are they visiting this time? Well, anyways, I figured I'd come knocking and see for myself".

Relieved she finally stopped to catch a breath, I quickly spoke before she could get another word in. "This is Silent Harbour, Mrs. Gray. Even if a stranger had broken into the house, they'd probably tidy up the damage and leave a note about what items they took".

"What brings you back to town?", she asks clearly not entertaining my comment.

"My parents finally agreed to sell the house. Figured the house deserved some actual occupants rather than the multiplying dust bunnies".

"Oh that's a shame, but also about time we got some new life in this town. Judging from your state, you probably haven't found the time to eat yet. How about you meet me at The Grill in a half hour after you freshen up? No use in hiding away in this empty house"