“What about tonight?”

“I guess we’re going to have to have faith.”

Ronnie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Dad? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did you say you believed me?”

In profile, he could see both the young woman she was becoming and the little girl he remembered.

“Because I trust you.”

“Is that why you built the wall to hide the piano?” She looked at him only indirectly. “When I went inside, it wasn’t that hard to miss.”

Steve shook his head. “No. I did that because I love you.”

Ronnie flashed a brief smile, hesitating before taking a seat beside him. They watched the waves rolling steadily up the shore. High tide would be here soon, and the beach was half-gone.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked.

“Pete is going to talk to the owner, but I don’t know. A couple of those records were real collector’s items. They’re pretty valuable.”

Ronnie felt sick to her stomach. “Have you told Mom yet?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

“Probably.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. At the water’s edge, a group of surfers walked past, holding their boards. In the distance, the swells were slowly rising, forming waves that seemed to collide before immediately re-forming.

“When are you going to call the aquarium?”

“When I head back inside. I’m sure Jonah’s getting hungry anyway. I should probably start dinner.”

Ronnie stared at the nest. With her stomach in knots, she couldn’t imagine eating. “I don’t want anything to happen to the turtle eggs tonight.”

Steve turned toward her. “So what do you want to do?”

Hours later, after tucking Jonah into bed, Steve stepped out onto the back porch to check on Ronnie. Earlier, after he’d left a message at the aquarium, he’d gone to the store to buy what he thought she needed: a light sleeping bag, a camping lantern, a cheap pillow, and some bug spray.

He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Ronnie sleeping outside, but she was clearly determined and he admired her impulse to protect the nest. She’d been insistent that she would be fine, and to some extent, he trusted she was right. Like most people who grew up in Manhattan, she’d learned to be careful and had seen and experienced enough of the world to know it was sometimes a dangerous place. Moreover, the nest was less than fifty feet from his bedroom window-which he intended to keep open-so he was confident he’d hear something if Ronnie ran into trouble. Because of the shape of the windblown dune and the location of the nest, it wasn’t likely that anyone walking on the beach would even know she was there.

Still, she was only seventeen, and he was her father, all of which meant he’d probably end up checking on her every few hours. There wasn’t a chance he’d be able to sleep through the night.

The moon was only a sliver, but the sky was clear, and as he moved through the shadows, he thought back on their conversation. He wondered how she felt about the fact that he’d hidden the piano. Would she wake up tomorrow with the same attitude she’d had when she’d first arrived? He didn’t know. As he drew near enough to make out Ronnie’s sleeping form, the play of starlight and shadow made her appear both younger and older than she really was. He thought again about the years he’d lost and would never get back.

He stayed long enough to gaze up and down the beach. As far as he could tell, no one was out, so he turned and headed back inside. He sat on the couch and turned on the television, flipping through the channels before turning it off. Finally, he went to his room and crawled into bed.

He fell asleep almost immediately but woke an hour later. Tiptoeing outside again, he went to check on the daughter he loved more than life itself.

Her first thought upon waking was that everything hurt. Her back was stiff, her neck ached, and when she got the courage to sit up, a stabbing pain coursed through her shoulder.

She couldn’t imagine anyone ever choosing to sleep outdoors. When she was growing up, some of her friends had extolled the joys of camping, but she’d thought they were deranged. Sleeping on the ground hurt.

And so, of course, did the blinding sun. Judging by fact that she’d been waking up with the farmers since she’d arrived, she figured today was no different. It probably wasn’t even seven yet. The sun was hanging low over the ocean, and a few people were walking their dogs or jogging near the water’s edge. No doubt they’d slept in beds. She couldn’t imagine walking, let alone exercising. Right now it was hard enough to breathe without passing out.

Steeling herself, she slowly got to her feet before remembering why she’d been out here in the first place. She checked the nest, noting with relief that it was undisturbed, and ever so slowly, the aches and pains began to subside. She wondered idly how Blaze could tolerate sleeping on the beach, and then all of a sudden she remembered what Blaze had done to her.

Arrested for shoplifting. Serious shoplifting. Felony shoplifting.

She closed her eyes, reliving it all: the way the store manager had glared at her until the officer had arrived, Officer Pete’s disappointment on the drive to the station, the awful phone call she’d had to make to her dad. She’d felt like throwing up on the car ride home.

If there was one bright spot in all that had happened, it was that her dad hadn’t blown a gasket. And even more incredible, he’d said he believed her to be innocent Then again, he hadn’t spoken to Mom yet. As soon as that happened, all bets were off. No doubt Mom would scream and shout until Dad gave in, and he’d end up grounding her because he’d promised Mom that he would. After the Incident, her mom had grounded her for a month, and this was way, way bigger than just an incident.

She felt sick again. She couldn’t imagine having to spend an entire month in her room, a room she had to share, no less, in a place she didn’t want to be. She wondered if things could get any worse. As she stretched her arms above her head, she yelped at a stabbing pain in her shoulder. She lowered them slowly, wincing.

She spent the next couple of minutes dragging her things to the back porch. Even though the nest was behind her house, she didn’t want the neighbors to guess that she’d slept outside. Based on the grandeur of their houses, she pegged them as the kind of people who wanted everything picture perfect when they stood on their back decks drinking coffee in the mornings. The knowledge that someone had been sleeping beside their house probably didn’t fit with their image of perfection, and the last thing she wanted was to have the police to show up again. With her luck, she’d probably get arrested for vagrancy. Felony vagrancy.

It took two trips to get everything-she didn’t have the energy to carry it all at once-and then she realized she’d left behind her copy of Anna Karenina. She’d intended to read it last night, but she’d been too tired and had set it under a piece of driftwood so the mist wouldn’t ruin it. When she went back to get it, she spotted someone wearing a beige jumpsuit advertising Blakelee Brakes, carrying a roll of yellow tape and a bunch of sticks. He seemed to be walking up the beach toward the house.

By the time she’d retrieved her book, the man was closer and hunting around the dune. She started toward him, wondering what he was doing, and then he turned in her direction. When their eyes met, it was one of the few times in her life that she actually felt tongue-tied.

She recognized him immediately, despite the uniform. She flashed on the way he’d looked without a shirt, tan and fit, his brown hair wet with sweat, the macramé bracelet on his wrist. He was the guy at the volleyball court who’d crashed into her, the guy whose friend almost got into a fight with Marcus.