The second morning in Silver Bay arrived with a pale sky and a cold wind that moved across the cliffs. Elena woke slowly. For a few seconds she did not remember where she was. Then the sound of the sea reached her, low and steady, and the memory of the previous day returned. The whispers. The empty room. The tall man on the beach with deep blue eyes. She sat up and looked at the photograph of her mother on the table. The quiet face in the frame seemed to watch her with the same soft patience it always had.

Elena washed her face with cold water, made tea, and stood by the window for a long time. The sea was gray and restless. White waves rose and fell against the black rocks. She felt the same strange mix of fear and calm that had followed her since the first night. The voice had not spoken since the previous evening, yet she still felt its presence, like a soft shadow at the edge of her thoughts.