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80 Carol put the book down and closed her eyes. Then she opened them
again and began to read slowly. The story went on about how the boy
awoke in the morning, cold and alone and hungry, and how he had seen
not one but two dolphins in the bay, but neither was very close to where
he stood on the island’s edge. Carol wanted Esteban to be safe, and to
make it back to the shore. She wanted the dolphins to help him, but she

wasn’t at all sure they would.
81 Mysteries were about finding out how they ended, not new and more
difficult mysteries that kept going on and on. She looked at the book and
then threw it down on her bed, telling herself that she would never pick it
up again. Now she knew why Mr. Linden read the same book every day.
He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late.
82 She lay quietly in the darkness of her room. Now and again her hand
would reach out from under the covers toward the light by the side of
her bed.
83 “Don’t open the book again,” she pleaded with herself. “Please.”
84 From the far side of the bay, the town had grown dark. Occasionally a
truck made its way along the winding road or the reflection from the
lighthouse through the fog could be seen. Other than that, all was dark,
the occasional flicker of a small bedroom light hardly noticeable.

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