Chapter 7
Unfamiliar sounds filtered into Esme’s bedroom the next morning. The pounding waves of Splinter Bay had been replaced by more subdued noises: the lap of water in the wake of passing boats, a child’s laugh from the nearby bridge, the muffled toll of distant bells. A melodious voice rose up from the ground floor, floating effortlessly over scales and runs. It was Lillian, practising her singing; she had mentioned Esme might hear her in the morning.
She hardly dared open her eyes. What if these sounds were merely the last remnants of a dream, one that would disappear with the daylight? Esme opened one eye and then the other. The hope and wonder she had felt the night before returned in a rush. Her skin tingled with exhilaration.
I’m here. I’m really here.
She had found her way t
