To steal my unborn baby, my mother-in-law cornered me with a forged notice of my husband’s death. “You have no one left to protect you,” she sneered, forcing custody papers into my hand. But as I backed away, the front door burst open, and a voice she never expected to hear shouted…

There were no heavy mahogany walls here. No locked wrought-iron gates. There was only the wide, endless expanse of the Atlantic Ocean and the sound of sea oats rustling in the wind.

I sat on the weathered wooden porch steps, a cold glass of sweet tea resting against my knee. I was sketching a bundle of wild sea grape leaves in my notebook, my fingers continue reading …