To understand why Courtney was drawn to Morada, one must go back to a time before she knew of its existence. She is not the first Chisolm to visit Morada, and she was drawn here to try to ease her own pain after her sister's death.

Courtney and Briana, the daughters of Bryant and Claire Chisolm of Boston, Mass., enjoyed a privileged life as children. They went to the finest schools, were cared for by an adoring staff of household employees and had the unending attention of their doting father. Their mother spent much of her time working for various charities and enjoying the social life that Bryant's position as an investment banker could afford. Claire had little time for the girls, but she loved them as much as she could and made sure that the staff took excellent care of them in her absence.

In the wake of their mother's inattention, Courtney fell into the role of caring for her little sister. It was Courtney, therefore, who advised Briana about clothes, hair, boys and all the other things little girls find important. As they grew older, Courtney became Briana's counselor and confessor, always doling out kind advice and careful instruction. She didn't always approve of her sister's flighty ways, but did all she could to protect her from making bad decisions.

Briana was the first to test her wings. She embraced the storied lifestyle of the well-to-do, enjoying a glamorous coming out party at 18 and catching the eye of the wealthy, but morally bankrupt Todd Weatherborne at 21. The two were married in a fabulous ceremony and immediately embarked on a tour of Europe. Young and adventurous, they wanted to sample everything Europe had to offer. Unfortunately for Briana, Todd sampled the local girls while she explored the shops. After returning to their hotel in London one afternoon, and finding Todd in his third peccadillo, Briana flew home, expecting to find the sympathetic arms of her adoring father waiting. That was not the case, though, as Bryant was in the midst of his own trials ... an investigation into his firm had revealed illegal practices. Fully embroiled in legal matters, Bryant told Briana that if she had chosen unwisely, then she would have to learn to deal with her mistakes, just as he was dealing with his. Briana, hurting from her father's harsh words, filed for divorce and headed off to a tropical island to lick her wounds.

Thus Briana came to Morada. She was barely off the boat when she ran into a rather coarse PI named Derek. Someone who would be deemed completely unacceptable by her Boston social register family. But, feeling she had been rejected by her family, Briana fell for the handsome Derek, and they enjoyed an idyllic existence on the island. They talked of marriage and children, and planned a full life together, until that fateful day in July of 1997 when Derek was lost in an awful ferryboat accident on his way back to the island from a visit to the mainland. Briana was devastated. She wandered aimlessly for months, barely talking to others on the island and avoiding contact with her friends. Finally, in February of 1999, her father showed up on the island and forced her to return home with him.

Meanwhile, Courtney was finding her own way in life. She graduated from college with a degree in English literature and took a job as a junior editor for a publishing firm in New York City. Her life was filled with friends and work. She enjoyed the fast pace of life in the city and spent much of her free time at the theater, attending concerts and visiting museums. On Saturdays, she worked with the Boys and Girls Club in her neighborhood tutoring youngsters and helping them put on impromptu skits. Although she did not have a close relationship with anyone in particular, she dated often and enjoyed the company of many friends. Courtney concentrated on her career and reveled in her hobbies. She was happy.

Back in Boston, Briana grew morose. Her mother, not having a close relationship with her daughter, quickly gave up and said Briana would snap out of it in time. Bryant wasn't so sure, and he spent many hours each day sitting beside her in her room, trying to get her to open up to him. Briana would not speak, though. She just sat in her room and wrote in her journals. Line after line of sadness poured out of her, but even the writing couldn't heal her spirit. Courtney returned home at her father's request, taking a vacation from her position at the publishing company, and took up the watch on her sister. She told stories of life in New York, tried to entice Briana with invitations to parties and weekends on the Cape, shopped for beautiful clothing to catch Briana's eye. But nothing worked. As Courtney watched, Briana slipped deeper and deeper into depression, until she no longer even showed an interest in her journals.

Early one morning in December of 1999, Courtney entered Briana's room, hoping to find some improvement. Instead, she found horror. Sometime during the night, Briana had found the bottle of prescription medicine that her mother used to combat insomnia. Briana had swallowed the entire contents of the bottle. Courtney found her lifeless body sprawled across the bed. Courtney immediately called for an ambulance and woke her parents, but nothing could be done to save Briana.

The next few weeks were a blur for Courtney. She went through the motions of mourning, but she couldn't recall who visited or what she had worn the day before. She stumbled through her days, searching her mind and heart for ways she could have helped her sister. One day in January, she entered her sister's room for the first time since Briana's death. There, in the corner, her eye fell on the stack of journals. Tentatively, she reached for one. And then, she read.

Courtney read for hours, seeing for the first time what had been in Briana's heart and mind as she sat silent those many months. Briana had captured a lifetime of memories with her writing. She painted pictures of glorious sunrises and romantic sunsets; beautiful beaches and a bustling town. And love. Every word was filled with the love and friendship Briana had found on this tropical island called Morada.

On the last page of the last journal there was a poem: A heartbreaking account of love lost and love found ... and then love lost again. Courtney tore that page out of the journal and tucked it in the pocket of her jeans. She knew what she had to do.

The next day, Courtney began working on her plan. She wrote a letter to the publishing house, asking for an extended leave from her position. She contacted a travel agent and booked passage. She met with her banker and made arrangements to have money wired to her on a monthly basis. She packed and repacked her bags. When all of her plans were in place, she told her parents she was leaving. Bryant was furious when she told him she was going to Morada. Claire hugged her daughter and wished her a pleasant trip. After convincing her father that she would return soon and would stay in contact, Courtney departed.

She arrived on Morada in February of 2000 and was immediately enchanted with her surroundings. Her first order of business was to try to find some of the people Briana had mentioned in her writings. As she introduced herself around the island, Courtney was welcomed with open arms. Many people sat with her and told her story after story about Briana. Within a few weeks, Courtney was convinced that Briana had indeed found a paradise. And now, Courtney wanted to stay for a while, too. Little did she know that circumstances would arise that would force her to cut off ties with her family and stay on Morada ... forever. She can be persuaded to tell the rest of the story. Just find her on the island and ask.

Taped on the last page of this report, you see a creased piece of paper that looks as if it was torn from some sort of journal. Glancing at it, you see it is a poem ....

HESITATION

The wind rushed in on beggars' wings
As I stood on the rocky ledge.
Teasing, tempting, tantalizing,
Beckoning me to step out into the void; Trusting that no harm would befall me.

Behind me, the dying embers of a fire,
Once bright, flames licking at my hands,
Covering me with a gentle warmth,
Glowed red hot and then faded
As the breeze stirred within my soul.

First gentle, then persistent, finally passionate,
The wind danced across my face.
It's warm caress urging me
To feel, to fly, to soar to new heights;
Willing me to join in this seduction.

I paused, turning back to the pile of ashes,
Searching for a way to rekindle the spark.
Softly, tentatively, I blew across pit,
Silently calling for the warmth to return.
The cold dark bones of the fire lay still.

I returned to the ledge now,
To join in the new life that was promised.
My face pressed to the sky,
I sought the arms of the wind that called me.
But it was gone.

-- Briana Chisolm Weatherborne