Page 30

I never did find out what he’d seen. He never spoke to me again.

“Don’t,” Abby said.

“Don’t what?” Liam demanded.

“Don’t ask,” she replied. “You don’t want to know.”

“I think I deserve an answer.” He was trying to sound tough, but his voice wavered, betraying his uncertainty.

“What you do or don’t deserve isn’t really my problem,” Abby replied, the corner of her mouth hooking upward, a smile so small it meant its opposite.

“Abby,” I said, intervening. “He was there yesterday. He saw.”

“So forget yesterday. Both of you. Go home. Go back to your lives and be safe.” She looked at me. “I promise you I’ll find out what happened to your mother. I’m a professional, or as close to it as anyone can get. This doesn’t need to be on your shoulders.”

“Whatdoesn’t? What’s Sophia’s mother got to do with any of this?” Liam demanded.

“I’m not leaving,” I told Abby. “And Liamdoesdeserve to know.” Or at least, I wanted him to know. Abby had known about otherworldly things for years before she ever heard my name. It was easy for her to believe me. I wanted Liam to choose to believe me.

Her lips thinned. Then she sighed, waving a hand in surrender. “Your call,” she said.

I turned to Liam, and took a deep breath. “My name is Sophia Novak,” I said. “And I think I’m the Girl in the Boat.”

EXHIBIT F

Excerpt of a letter sent by Vanya Kapoor to Persephone Dryden

AUGUST 7, 2003

Many people think of crows and ravens as nearly the same bird, but only someone who has never seen a raven could make that mistake. The scale of them is incredible when you’re used to the more familiar little tricksters. Their feathers are so black and their bodies so enormous that you imagine if they spread their wings, you would see galaxies hidden beneath them, full of nebulae and distant, cold suns.

When Joy’s little girl first saw Moriarty, she ran right up to him. Joy looked panicked, and I don’t blame her. He was nearly as big as the girl. But Sophie wasn’t afraid at all. She is obsessed with him, and he seems to return the affection.He’s always snapped at Liam, but he preens when Sophie tells him he’s pretty. Maybe Liam’s mistake is failing to appeal to his vanity. And it was thanks to Moriarty that we found the girl when she went missing last week.

She was up at the research center with us, and then she wasn’t. Moriarty was missing too, and Joy and I were both frantic—her more than me, of course, though I’ll confess it was a close call. The mist had come in hard and thick, and it was dusk.

It was Misha who found Sophie, thanks to Moriarty’s calling. He brought her back bundled in his huge coat, fast asleep, and Moriarty flapped up behind her. The bird seemed annoyed by our relief. He seemed to say,What’s the fuss? I was looking after her.

Misha said he’d found Sophie down by the water, Moriarty perched on the rocks beside her. She was sitting with her hands on her knees, looking straight out at the waves. Toward Belaya Skala. She said that she’d followed a girl down to the water and had stayed to listen to the singing. But there are no children on Bitter Rock.

When I mentioned it Mrs. Popova, she got an odd look on her face, and made me promise not to tell anyone else. But you know me. I could never keep a secret from you.

Sometimes when the mist rolls in and duskis threatening, I stand on the porch, listening. I can only ever steal a few minutes before Mrs. Popova hurries out to usher me inside so she can lock the doors for the night. But I swear last night, when I was straining to listen in the direction of Belaya Skala, I thought I heard it: singing, almost inaudible over the sound of the sea.

I couldn’t make out the words, but it was beautiful. Beautiful, and oddly frightening. Or maybe it was only a trick of the mist. That’s what they keep telling us, whenever we have questions, whenever we see something strange. The mist plays tricks, that’s all. Now get inside, and lock your doors.

VIDEO EVIDENCE

Recorded by Joy Novak

AUGUST 14, 2003, TIME UNKNOWN

The shriek comes again, and is answered by something on the other side of the island, a voice that could be human or bird.

HARDCASTLE: We need to get somewhere safe. I—

The cries are drowned out by a bellowing roar, echoing over the island.

NOVAK: The town’s closest.