Chapter Thirty
Zoe barely had the wherewithal to appreciate the majestic setting of the Banff Institute of Contemporary Northern Art, home of the Far North Arts Fellowship. She was so nervous her teeth were practically chattering. It had taken her nearly twenty-four hours to reach Banff, find a hotel, get some sleep, then make her way to the institute. At some point, she realized that she’d left her phone at home. She knew exactly where it was, right on her worktable next to an unfinished figure of a selkie.
She gave her name to the receptionist outside the director’s office. The director, Rose O’Rourke, had sent the acceptance email, so there really was no reason for Zoe to be so nervous.
And yet she was. This here, what she was about to do, she’d never done before in her life.
The re
