The first thing Ethan Cole noticed about the boy was that he wasn’t watching the ocean.
Everyone else on the Harbor Point boardwalk was.
It was one of those brilliant September afternoons when the water looked like polished blue metal and the gulls floated almost motionless above the pier. Families crowded around food stalls, children chased one another between benches, and somewhere behind Ethan a street musician was playing an old jazz song on a battered trumpet.
But the boy stood perfectly still.
Maybe sixteen.
Thin.
Dark hair falling over his forehead.
A gray sweatshirt despite the warm weather.
And he was staring at Ethan’s daughter.
Mia sat beside Ethan on a wooden bench with both hands wrapped around a paper cup of lemonade. Her folded white cane rested against her knee. Large dark glasses covered most of her face.
She was ten years old.
And according to every doctor Ethan had spoken to during the previous thirteen months, she would never see again.
“Mia,” Ethan said, touching her shoulder. “Want to walk down to the water?”
She smiled.
“Only if you promise not to describe every boat like you’re narrating a documentary.”
Ethan laughed.
“No promises.”
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then the strange boy crossed the boardwalk.
He stopped five feet away.
“You shouldn’t make her wear those glasses.”
Ethan looked up.
“Excuse me?”
The boy nodded toward Mia.
“The sunglasses.”
Ethan’s smile disappeared.
“They protect her eyes.”
“No,” the boy said. “They hide them.”
Ethan stared at him.
Mia became very still.
The boy noticed.
So did Ethan.
“Do we know you?” Ethan asked.
“No.”
“Then keep walking.”
The boy didn’t move.
Instead, he reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a small red rubber ball.
He held it at shoulder height.
Then, without warning, he tossed it gently to his left.
Mia’s head turned.
Only slightly.
But it turned in exactly the same direction as the ball.
Ethan stopped breathing.
The boy caught it.
Mia quickly faced forward again.
“What was that?” Ethan asked.
Mia’s fingers tightened around her cup.
“What was what?”
The boy tossed the ball to the opposite side.
Again, Mia’s face followed it.
This time there was no mistaking it.
Ethan stood so quickly that the bench shook.
“Who are you?”
The boy stepped backward.
“Someone who knows she can see.”
Mia’s cup slipped from her hands.
It struck the pavement and burst open.
Lemonade spread beneath the bench.
“Mia?”
She said nothing.
Ethan crouched in front of her.
“Mia, look at me.”
Behind the dark lenses, he could see only his own reflection.
“Sweetheart.”
Her lower lip began trembling.
Then Ethan heard a voice behind him.
“Ethan!”
His wife was pushing through the crowd.
Claire.
Normally calm, elegant, controlled Claire was running.
Her handbag bounced against her hip. Her face had gone pale.
When she saw the teenage boy, she stopped.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Terrified.
That frightened Ethan more than anything the boy had said.
“Claire?”
She stared at the teenager.
“You need to leave.”
The boy gave a bitter laugh.
“You said that last time.”
Ethan slowly turned toward his wife.
“Last time?”
Claire ignored him.
She walked directly toward the boy.
“You promised me you would stay away.”
“I promised nothing.”
“Who is he?” Ethan demanded.
Neither of them answered.
Ethan looked from one face to the other.
“Claire, who is this kid?”
Finally the boy spoke.
“My name is Caleb Ross.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Ethan had never heard the name.
Caleb looked at Mia.
Then at Ethan.
“Ask your wife why your daughter is blind only when you’re around.”
The noise of the boardwalk seemed to disappear.
Ethan felt something cold move through his chest.
“What does that mean?”
“Ethan,” Claire said quietly, “we need to go home.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
Mia suddenly whispered, “Mom.”
Claire immediately turned toward her.
“Everything’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t,” Caleb said.
Claire snapped at him.
“Stop.”
“You’ve lied to him long enough.”
Ethan caught Claire by the wrist.
“Tell me what he’s talking about.”
She pulled free.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
Claire looked around the crowded boardwalk.
For the first time Ethan noticed that she wasn’t simply nervous.
She was scanning faces.
Searching.
As if she expected someone to be watching them.
Then Caleb saw something behind Ethan.
His expression changed instantly.
“We need to move.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“What?”
Caleb grabbed Mia’s cane.
“Now.”
Claire looked over Ethan’s shoulder.
All the color drained from her face.
A man in a navy jacket was walking toward them through the crowd.
Mid-forties.
Broad shoulders.