have to be honest—my grandpa didn’t have a sense of humor. At all. And when he told me the story, he seemed terrified. Whatever happened, he was still scared seventy years later.
2
LIAM GAVE ME an amused look as we started off toward Mrs. Popova’s. “So you must really love birds,” he said.
“I guess,” I replied, then cursed myself silently. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to give myself away before I ever stepped foot in the LARC. And then I’d get sent home without finding out anything about my mother.
“Is there another reason you’d want to fly out to the edge of the world for an entire summer? Because if you came for the nightlife, you are going to be deeply disappointed,” he said, his tone teasing. “And according to Dr. Kapoor, you were extremely persistent. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who could wear her down before.”
“‘Persistent’ is one word for it,” I said. My teachers tended to go with “stubborn.” My last foster mother had preferred “goddamn pigheaded.” I’d been emailing Dr. Kapoor for months, trying to convince her to let me work for the LARC over the summer. Nobody just visited Bitter Rock. I needed a reason to be here. But I couldn’t tell Liam any of that, and he was still looking at me like he was waiting for an explanation. “So you call your mom Dr. Kapoor?”
“Since I was five,” he said. “She’s never seen fit to correct me.”
“Should I check in with her? Before I turn in?” I asked.
“She and Dr. Hardcastle are over on Belaya Skala doing their science . . . stuff,” he said, waving a hand vaguely. “Dr. Kapoor meant to be back to greet ‘our wayward intern,’ but then we heard the storm warning, and we assumed you’d be delayed.” He raised an eyebrow, like it was a downright supernatural phenomenon that had ushered me here in defiance of bad weather.
“I talked Mr. Nguyen into it,” I said with a half shrug.
“That would be why I’m staring at you. Mr. Nguyen’s from the mainland. And nobody from the mainland comes out here if they can avoid it when there isn’t a storm.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but then the radio at his belt crackled to life.
“Liam?” it was a woman’s voice, distorted by static.
Liam held up a finger to ask me to wait as he replied. “Here.”
“That storm’s staying offshore, but the mist’s coming in quick. Where are you?”
“Walking toward Mrs. Popova’s. The intern got here. Sophia.”
I wasn’t sure if I should say hello, but the voice continued without giving me the chance. “Get yourselves back to Mrs. Popova’s and stay there. I don’t want you to get caught out in the mist trying to get back to the house on your own.”
“What about you?”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning.” There was a finality to the clipped words.
“You heard the boss lady. Mist’s coming,” he said. “Best hurry.”
“What’s the big deal?” I asked. “Can’t you just walk home?”
“Nobody goes out in the mist. There are so many sharp drops and rocky hills around here, even just walking around when the mist is up is dangerous. Driving is worse, given the quality of the roads. Driving in the mist in the dark is suicidal.”
“It doesn’t get dark this time of year,” I pointed out.
“Then we may yet survive our journey,” he told me, mock-dramatic. I chuckled, amusement cracking through my tension for a moment, at least.
I was actually relieved that I’d beaten Dr. Kapoor back to Bitter Rock. My exchanges with her had all been over email, but even in text you could feel her glaring at you. I had to keep fooling her into thinking I was just a bird-obsessed teenager trying to “get some real-world experience.” I’d already slipped up with Liam. I had to be more careful.
We trudged down the gravelly, pockmarked road, the only one that wound along the length of Bitter Rock’s main landmass. There were no trees on the island, but the rocks and hills hid our destination from view until we were almost on top of it. “This is it,” Liam said as we approached. In another setting, the cottage-style house might have looked cute, but the salt had stripped its paint until what was left hung in tattered strips from gaunt gray boards, and the roof shingles were patchy. Not even the floral curtains in the windows could rescue it from looking