Chapter 9 · The Drowned Bell
The bell had not rung in eleven years, yet Mara heard it every night at the turn of the tide — a low, drowned note that rose through the floorboards and settled in her teeth.
She told herself it was the wind. She told the harbor master it was the wind. Even the gulls, wheeling over the black water below the lamp room, seemed to agree that it was only ever the wind.
Tonight the note came twice.
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