The Linklater family arrive on the remote Scottish Isle of Sulla with a plan. Convinced that society is on the brink of collapse, they intend to build a self-sufficient commune with other like-minded "preppers," a place where they can survive whatever disaster the future brings. Instead, tragedy strikes. When the family's teenage daughter is found dead, the close-knit island community is horrified--and suspicion quickly falls on the people who raised her. Elspeth, a Canadian considering a new beginning on Sulla, already knows how wary the islanders are of outsiders. She's experienced their frosty welcome firsthand. Harmless pranks--local traditions meant to remind newcomers of their place--are supposed to be little more than mischief. But Elspeth has begun to see how quickly those "jokes" can turn unsettling and how easily a warning can become something far more sinister. As everyone on Sulla tries to make sense of the tragedy surrounding the Linklaters, Elspeth discovers that life on Sulla demands connection, not isolation. Yet the closer she grows to the people around her, the more dangerous the truth becomes. Because someone on this small island is capable of murder. And when the real killer is finally revealed, Elspeth realizes that on Sulla, closeness can be deadly--and she may already be too close to escape.

It was still dark when they left, and cloudy. Not a star in the sky. By the time they were far out on the water, dawn began to break. The water moved heavily back and forth, shifting from grey to darkest charcoal. They spent most of the voyage inside the lounge. Once Sulla came into view, Elspeth was astonished to see how green the island was at this time of year. “Plenty of rain will do that,” said Calum.

The boat passed the house. She went out on the foredeck to look at it as they went by, her collar turned up against the cold, damp air. It was just as she remembered, grey stone, two gabled windows on the upper floor looking out at her, the arched eaves above them like questioning eyebrows. It stood bare against the elements, walled all around. There it had stood, firm and solid, for over a hundred years, and it seemed as if it could last many more. It looked as if it was waiting, after a long sleep, to be brought back to life again.