Out in the water, a silvery shape flashed across the waves. It was gone too quickly for Bonnie to say for sure what she had seen, but as she stood, open mouthed, she thought with amazement that somehow there had been a hand and part of a slender, pearly-white arm. The arm was draped in a long drift of lacy weed tipped in pinks and yellows and blues and greens. Fingers with glinting silver nails had been grasping the peaks of the waves as they sped toward shore, and the waves’ white caps looked like the long, flowing hair of a woman.

Bonnie's heart was hammering so hard that she pressed one fist against her chest. Beneath her clenched fingers, she could feel her grandmother's pearl, smooth and round against her skin. Was it warmer suddenly, or was it her imagination? The sound of Bobbie's calling crept into her consciousness, and she turned toward her alarmed friend.