Don’t know when I might have had cause to tell stories to a little girl, but it feels like I have before, and see seems to think I’m doing a fine job, the way she’s getting into it and playing along. “You’re almost right,” I tell her, keeping my voice light.

I’m trying to think of the best and most exciting way to tell the next part when I see her eyes go wide, and there’s a terrible splashing sound behind me. I scramble to my feet as I turn to look down the beach at the knot of people around the nets. They may have been fishing, but now something’s caught them. A great, coiling body, and a head, rising up out of the water, speaking.

I blink once, and then I’m backing away as fast as I can, feet scrabbling for purchase on the sharp stones. I reach out for CeeCee’s hand as I do. “Come on, sweetheart. We need to be not here.”