“There's been a lot of news,” Liam said. “I've kept the TV off, so Rose wouldn't see. But the Stanleys told me your return has been in the papers and on lots of programs. Are you sure that wasn't him, in the car?”

“I don't know. I've just gotten so jumpy,” she said. “I know that he's waiting for the right moment, and I keep expecting him around every corner.”

“I know we want to keep Rose away from him,” Liam said. “But I think I should be with you—to keep you safe.”

“Taking care of Rose is the best thing you can do for me,” Lily said. “I wish we were all home in Cape Hawk again.”

“Maybe we should go back home for a few days,” he said. “You, me, and Rose. We could listen to some ceili bands—it would be good for us.”

“Sssh,” she said, kissing him hard. “You're tempting me, but I've got to see about Granny.”

“I know,” he said.

He took her hand, leading her across the room. His desk was piled high with books and journals from John Stanley's personal library. Liam had been amazed to find old editions of Copeia, the prestigious nineteenth-century ichthyologic journal, dedicated to the study and conservation of sharks. He'd been looking for theories to explain the phenomenon he'd been observing along the shore these past few days—the massing of baitfish in such unusual volume.

Lily drifted toward the open door. Liam followed her outside. The stars were white and brilliant in the dark blue sky. The night seemed to reflect the ocean, spreading out from the rocks all the way to the far horizon. The constellations made a canopy overhead, arching straight out of the sea. They illuminated the salt spray, fine and bright as snow.

“What's that?” Lily asked, pointing offshore, at iridescence streaking through the water.

“Bioluminescence,” Liam said. “Marine creatures that produce light.”

“It looks like the northern lights, underwater,” she said.

“It's unusual, that's for sure,” Liam said.

“Could it be Nanny?” Lily asked, sounding excited. “Maybe she really has followed us down from Nova Scotia!”

Looking at the white streaks, Liam could understand why Lily would think they were made by their favorite beluga whale, come all the way from Cape Hawk. Although Nanny hadn't shown up on his computer tracking screen, he was pretty sure the source of light was a marine mammal or another large sea creature.

As they approached the seawall, the roaring of distant waves grew stronger. The inshore waters were turbulent, and silhouetted in the breaking waves were filmy white jellyfish and hordes of silver menhaden, swimming parallel to the shore.

“It's so loud,” Lily said, staring out at the water.

“It's a phenomenon called Ghost Hills,” Liam told her.

“What is that?”