Page 39 of Hidden Depths
"You really do read the ocean."
"I read patterns."
She looked toward the horizon.
"The sea is always telling you something."
"You just have to know how to listen," she said.
Those words stayed with me.
Because they sounded like Grandpa.
Without realizing it...
Storm had started sounding like the man who'd taught her.
That night...
Most of the guests had gone below.
The yacht had settled into the peaceful rhythm of open water.
Storm sat at the chart table updating the logbook.
She paused.
Ran her fingers over Grandpa's handwriting from years before.
A smile touched her lips.
Then she quietly whispered,
"I've got her, Grandpa."
She wasn't talking about the voyage.
She was talking about Sea Whisper.
As if the yacht herself were still something entrusted to her care.
Outside...
The moon reflected across the calm Pacific.
Far behind them...
So far away that no radar aboard Sea Whisper could detect it...
Another vessel changed course.
Very slightly.
Following.
Patiently.
Waiting for the right moment.
