Ashlyn hasn't spoken a word since the age of eight, and her heart's never felt more protected. But, when the confident and ever so charming Derek stumbles into her quiet little world, her emotions-and forbidden desires-have never been so loud.
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IN MEMORY OF JAMES HOLLAND A MAN WHO EMBODIED THE VERY HEART OF GLASSMONT 1964 – 1998
The ridges formed in the words were smooth to the touch, bronze emblazoned on a plaque for generations to come. Ashlyn's fingers roamed over the ornately carved macrocarpa, her fingers dipping and gliding over a series of rises and falls. A flock of cormorants nested on rocks and grassy outcrops at the base of the pole, a ship sailing on the still sea progressed up the side. Ancient symbols and detailing circled the remaining surface as it twisted towards the top. Each carving told a story of love and companionship, strength and peace, the life of her father depicted in a series of strokes and symbols.
Abel had spent the first month after James' passing working on this project, his own contribution to the memoriam of his first faithful friend. Ashlyn could still recall the days spent in his workshop admiring the skill and precision that went into this particular project, and the connection to her father she had felt as she helped to carve the dove, a messenger of peace, at the top of the pole which her fingers now rubbed for comfort.
The metal of the binoculars was cold to the touch as Ashlyn's fingers wrapped around the frames, and she bought her eyes down to look through them. The town was quiet below, lighting up like stars against the night sky as lights were switched on, the homes breathing life into the night. At the base of the hill, nestled on the waterfront was much of the town's business district closed for the evening, and out there, beyond the wall, calm beneath the pier was the azure ocean.
The ocean was both hypnotic and terrifying all at once, as it sang to her, lulling her into a mesmerizing state, its waves crawling gently towards the wall. Cylinders of light danced across the vast expanse as colors of tangerine and watermelon kissed the surface. The surface rose and fell with each breath the ocean took, her waves a gentle, rhythmic pulse. Calm. Safe.
But far below, beneath the surface, the hungry sea whispered incantations of darkness and fear. It called to Ashlyn, a still small voice promising reunion with her father within its darkest depths. The ocean had tasted her, and it craved for more.
The teeth of the ocean were sharp as talons as they bit at her skin, the water burning as it rushed to her lungs. Her head throbbed as she was slammed against the broken pier before the darkness claimed her.
Noises fought for her attention as the blood pounded within her ears, the skin around her eyes dry as her lids fluttered. A sea of faces swarmed around her as she squinted to sharpen the blurred images. Only one face was familiar as her pained gaze fell on her mother at the end of the bed, her lips trembling, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her mother approached her bedside to console her, her tears mixing with her daughters.
"It's okay, baby. You're okay," she whispered, stroking the child's hair, as the doctor checked her vitals. She continued to watch the Doctor's actions with fear. She wanted to go home where her mommy could take away the hurt.
