Cass has no memories of her parents, only impossible dreams of waves and orcas and, sometimes, her mother's voice. When she and her adopted aunt return to the Pacific Northwest island--where her parents died twelve years before--Cass hopes the place will trigger long-buried memories. Instead, she discovers that the impossible is real, and that history is about to repeat itself. Unless she can stop it.
The water hit with such a shock of cold that Cass thought she was going to pedal up and out of it again like some cartoon character. Instead, she flailed and splashed and smashed one arm against a piling as salt water poured into her raincoat & filled her shoes.
"How do you like it?" Jason yelled.
She spun until she could make out his form, black against gray sky. "What?" she sputtered. She dragged one arm from the water long enough to shove wet hair from her face. Jason became clearer: black hair dark above his yellow raincoat, arms crossed over his chest. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I asked how you like it, going for a swim in this water."
She was open-mouthed with disbelief. It was a bad idea; a surge lifted her and slapped salt water into her mouth. Bile burned her throat as she coughed and all the while she was still flailing at the water, fighting the drag of shoes and clothes to keep afloat. She should kick them off-that's what you were supposed to do if you fell into the ocean with your clothes on-but she was only a dozen feet from the dock. Besides, it was her only coat.
Jason watched her the way she'd watch a barracuda. "I know you're following me."
"Following you?" What. The. Hell. She gave a mighty kick and tossed her coat onto the dock. Jason just stood there.
"I nearly drowned last week, you know that? Now you show up as if nothing happened."
"Last week," Cass said slowly, "I was in Argentina."
Whatever he'd seen, it wasn't her.