Chapter Twenty-Eight
The weekend arrived as promised with clear skies and the scent of saltwater and seaweed on the breeze. Alfred had spent the time between rooftop observations reading a book on migration patterns of coastal birds, and, while the occasional concept or scientific name would stick, a good deal of it did not. He was constantly pulling at threads to piece together the full tapestry of the island’s ecosystem, but it was a complicated pattern that he feared he would never fully understand. His frustrations flamed in the breeze in much the same way they did in the weather office.
His attention distracted by the rising temperature and sketches of birds in flight, he was running late by the time he realized the hour. Hilary had told him the day’s outing was unusual, giving him
