Libby thumped her tail at the sound of Ivy’s voice. The puppies jostled awake when their mother stood and moved toward Ivy. She picked Libby up and carried her out back toward the dunes. Libby ran around taking care of business as a cold January wind blew over beach grass. The sands had gathered around the shipwreck, and a portion of the interior beams had vanished. It wouldn’t be long before the wreck was gone completely.

She stared up at the sky’s vibrant blues and the stark whites of the buoyant clouds. A flock of gulls flew overhead, their long wings scoring the air. Closing her eyes, she tried to reimagine what she had just seen. How long could she keep this memory? How soon would the colors fade?

Even fully sighted, she could barely remember what her mother had looked like, and Ruth’s face was already fading into the mist. People came and went from her life, and as painful as it could be, to have the entire world vanish from view was too much to consider.

Libby barked and trotted back toward Ivy, who picked her up. “Let’s get you fed and change out your bedding.” The dog licked her face.

Inside, she quickly swapped the blankets, carefully moving the puppies from old to new. Libby, as much as she seemed to like Ivy, kept a watchful eye on her as she handled her puppies.

Ivy held up the largest male and noted his eyes were barely beginning to open. His world was coming into view. She set the dog back down by his siblings and mother and left Libby to fuss and preen over her offspring until she was satisfied they were all still okay.

In the kitchen, Ivy made herself a pot of coffee, and after filling her mug, she sat at the dining room table and thumbed through the address book again, hoping she might have missed Carlotta’s name. There was no address for Carlotta in the Cs or Ds, but Talley’s name, initially listed under J, had been crossed out with a scrawled note to check N. In the Ns the only entry was for a Mrs. Edward Newsome. Mrs. Newsome’s address and phone number had changed several times.

Ivy shuffled through the black-and-white photos and found the picture of the young girls grouped together by the pool. She keyed in on the one with the light-colored ponytail. She glanced again at the name in the address book as she sipped her coffee. The fact that Talley was still in this book suggested she still mattered to Ruth.

She dialed the last number for Mrs. Newsome and listened as it rang six or seven times before it went to a mechanical voice mail recording. “This is Mrs. Newsome. Leave me a message.” There was a long pause before she added, “After the beep.”