The Gravity Of Alana

Chapter 2

"Mr. Allan, Mr. Allan, Mr. Allan!" called a voice, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, sorry about that," I said, blinking back to the present and giving the woman a polite smile.

"It's fine," she replied with a chuckle. "I was just wondering if you could show us the backyard? "I cleared my throat, straightening up. "Of course," I said, motioning for the couple to follow me as I led them down the hallway. As we walked, I kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out details I knew would impress them—"original hardwood floors," "spacious open layout," and "lots of natural light." I'd given this tour countless times, but it was easy to fall into the rhythm of it, the kind of rhythm that lets your mind wander.It's been a year since I came back to Alana and started my own business, Allana Prize Real Estate. The name gets a few laughs from clients now and then, but it's what I landed on, and I'm sticking with it. Owning this agency is a start, even if it isn't perfect.

We finally stepped out into the backyard, and I saw the couple's faces light up. The space was hugebordered by neat hedges and shaded by an old oak in one corner, with plenty of room for a pool or a garden. I watched as they exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. They were sold; I could see it in the way they smiled and nodded.After we settled the paperwork, I walked them to their car and watched as they drove away, the excitement of a new beginning practically radiating from their windows. When they were gone, the silence settled around me, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering question that had haunted me for the past year: How did I end up back here?

I stood by my own car, running a hand over the hood, absently tracing the fine layer of dust that had collected there. The reflection in the window showed a man I still wasn't used to seeing—a man in his early thirties, tall and lean, with light brown hair that never quite stayed in place. My stubble was starting to verge on a short beard, and dark circles shadowed my eyes. City living had left its marks on me; even a year back in Alana hadn't erased them. I looked older, somehow. Tired, maybe. A man with a few too many "what ifs" weighing on him.

Before I moved here, I'd worked at a large real estate agency in New Loyd—a place where people wore suits that cost more than a month's rent and judged each other by the view from their offices. The job had been good, the pay even better, but as the years passed, something began to gnaw at me. I felt like I was drifting through a life that didn't quite fit. There was an emptiness I couldn't shake, a sense that I was missing something essential. Eventually, that feeling grew so loud I couldn't ignore it anymore. I quit, packed up, and booked a one-way flight back to Alana. My boss and coworkers thought I was crazy, but the relief I felt was like stepping into fresh air after years underground.

Now, here I was, running my own small agency, trying to sell houses in a town I'd once thought I'd outgrown. Some days I felt like I'd made the right choice. Other days... well, I wasn't so sure.

As I started to unlock my car, my gaze drifted to the cliff side in the distance, where the old lighthouse stood, weathered and solitary against the evening sky. Its white paint had long since faded, chipped away by salt and wind, but it still stood there, as solid and eerie as ever. For a fleeting moment, I felt a pull toward it, a strange urge to drive up the cliff road and see it up close. The feeling vanished as quickly as it had come, but it left me unsettled, a faint chill at the back of my neck.

Shaking it off, I climbed into the car and started the engine. I needed to head into town to place an ad for my agency. The Alana Gazette would do the trick a small town paper, but people still read it. And in a place like Alana, a name in the Gazette was as good as a town introduction.

Inside, the air was tinged with the scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee. I walked up to the receptionist's desk, holding a stack of business cards and flyers for Allana Prize Real Estate that I hoped to leave here. Placing an ad might be a shot in the dark, but it was worth a try. In a town like Alana, word traveled fast.

Before I could say anything, I heard footsteps behind me, and a woman's voice called out, "Excuse me, are you Daniel Allan?"

I turned around, meeting the gaze of a woman with dark hair, a few loose strands framing her face in a way that softened her serious expression. She wore a light blue dress, simple but professional, and carried a notepad tucked under one arm. Her eyes were sharp, assessing, and I felt her studying me the way a detective might look at a suspect.

"Yes, that's me," I said, offering a polite nod. "And you are...?"

"Elena Parker. I'm with the Gazette," she said, extending her hand. Her grip was firm, her gaze steady. "I write the local news column."

I shook her hand, noticing the faintest hint of curiosity in her expression. "Nice to meet you, Elena. I was actually just stopping by to place an ad for my real estate agency."

"Perfect timing, then," she replied with a small smile. "The Gazette likes to keep up with new businesses in town. Alana doesn't get many new faces, let alone people who actually grew up here and decided to come back."

I shrugged, trying to keep things light. "Guess I just couldn't stay away."

Elena's smile faded slightly, her gaze turning a bit more inquisitive. "You know, I'm actually working on a piece about people returning to Alana. I'd love to get your perspective what brought you back? Why now?"

The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth, then closed it, feeling my answer stick in my throat. There were a lot of reasons I'd come back, and none of them were easy to explain.

"Just... needed a change," I said finally, avoiding her eyes. "The city wasn't really for me."

Elena nodded, jotting something down in her notepad. Her pen paused for a moment, and I saw her glance up, as if gauging whether I was telling her the whole story. "Fair enough," she said, her tone neutral. "Maybe we could sit down for a proper interview sometime? People in Alana love a good homecoming story."

"Sure," I replied, feeling a strange mixture of unease and curiosity. "I'd be happy to."

We exchanged contact information, and as she turned to leave, I watched her, a strange thought nagging at the back of my mind. There was something familiar about her, though I couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was just the fact that she was, like me, someone who'd left Alana and come back with questions that had no easy answers.

As I left the Gazette, heading back to my car, I couldn't shake the feeling that Elena and I were both looking for something in this town something neither of us had found yet. And I had a hunch that whatever it was, it all led back to the lighthouse.