She might have no choice about facing Kenzie Sloane next week, but she didn’t have to see her father again, regardless of the form it took.

She placed the lid back on the box and put it in her closet. It took a few minutes to unknot the fine gold chain. She fastened Imogen’s necklace around her throat.

The small medallion of the letter ‘I’ was warm on her skin.

She climbed into bed. “Come on, boys.”

The two dogs didn’t need to be invited twice.

They jumped on her bed and curled up next to her legs.

And she fell asleep, the light shining bright on her side table.

Chapter 63

Chapter 63

7:30 a.m.

Over the past few years, the waterfront had been developed into a well-appointed boardwalk that connected the downtown core between Purdy’s Wharf on the north end, and the Seaport Market on the south end of the waterfront. It was a popular Sunday morning spot for walkers, runners and, of course, tourists, especially after the events of the day before.

Across the harbor, the uneven silhouette of the Petrel could be seen, listing to one side where it foundered on the shore. Crews had been working around the clock to ensure that the UF6 containers remained intact.

Harry pulled his ball cap more firmly over his forehead, plugged in his earbuds, and began to run.

He moved forward—forward, not back, Harry—his feet urging him toward the open mouth of the harbor.

Part of him longed to keep going: past the tourist-friendly boardwalk, past the eco-hip farmers’ market, past Pier 21 which had once welcomed his parents to the country, past the Port of Halifax, where the container ships silently approached with their full bellies.

The lights of the navigation buoys marked the surface of the harbor. But the water beneath was dark. When he was younger, he had been terrified of the water. He did not like swimming in the ocean, and had no desire to scuba dive. The water was cold, black, full of strange creatures and unfamiliar flora.

But then the water had become a source of promise for him.

Because it carried the man he loved.

He watched the water slice over the gleaming back of the submarine as it maneuvered past McNabs Island. A Canadian Navy Auxiliary Vessel kept a respectful distance, guiding it around the navigation buoys, leading it toward the outer harbor.

People stood on the waterfront, waving at the sleek tube of steel until it melded with the horizon.

He turned around and ran back to the hotel.

The weight in his chest was different. But it no longer crushed him.

He showered and drove to the hospital. He ran up the stairwell to his father’s room.

“Harry.” His father sat in a chair, a hospital robe belted around him, one leg in a thick, white cast.