Tides of Provenance
A coastal artisan defends her workshop and reputation against a staged environmental report orchestrated by her estranged relatives.
Fictional story. Contains depictions of family financial coercion, false police reports, and emotional confrontation.Chapter 1: The Weight of Cedar and Salt
The air inside the Port Sterling Maritime Restoration Studio always smelled of white cedar, raw linseed oil, and the sharp tang of low tide drifting through the open bay doors. Nora Vance adjusted her headlamp and pulled a bronze chisel along the stern rail of a nineteenth-century skiff. For seven years, she had built her reputation on precision—restoring historic hull timbers, documenting provenance for maritime museums, and keeping logs so meticulous that even the state conservators used her workshop notes as benchmark data.
Her phone hummed against the workbench for the fourth time in twenty minutes. The caller screen displayed her stepmother’s name, Evelyn Vance. Nora did not answer. She wiped her fingers on her canvas apron and checked the clock above the lumber rack: 8:45 p.m. Outside, the fog was rolling across Penobscot Bay, blurring the yellow navigation lights along the commercial slipways.