In Inishvale, headlines used to crown kings and bury secrets. When Clio Fallon inherits her father's failing Gazette—and a locked box of receipts—she's forced to choose between tradition and truth. The paper has been the town's conscience for nearly a century, but its ink is running dry and its loyalties are older than its readers.

Ruarí Kavanagh, once a celebrated reporter and now the paper's quiet workhorse, knows how easily a story can go wrong. He's spent years keeping the presses alive and the peace intact. When Clio arrives with her ledger of questions and her stubborn belief in daylight, he finds himself learning a new definition of courage: the kind that doesn't end in a byline.

Together, they reassemble the newsroom—one coffee pot, one rule of fairness, one late-night reprint at a time. What begins as an audit of the past turns into a reckoning for the whole town. Every old headline hides a debt; every correction, a confession. From lost wedding rings to long-buried favors, the Gazette becomes a living archive of what the community chooses to forgive and what it refuses to forget.

As the mayor's misdeeds begin to surface, and an intern's quiet ethics ripple through every department, Clio and Ruarí face the hardest editorial call of all: how to print the truth without breaking what's left of home.

Told with humor, tenderness, and a journalist's eye for detail, Above the Fold is a love story about decency, consent, and the quiet heroism of people who keep showing up. It's a novel for readers who believe small towns can hold big stories, that love can coexist with accountability, and that sometimes the most radical act is doing your job well.

Set against the Atlantic light of western Ireland, this is a story of ink, repair, and the ordinary bravery it takes to keep a community honest. Warm, wry, and quietly radical, Above the Fold asks what we owe the truth—and what the truth owes us in return.