From New York Times bestselling author of Dark and Shallow Lies comes a paranormal thriller about a seventeen-year-old girl determined to uncover the truth of what really happened the night her mother died. Now in paperback! The perfect read for fans of Krystal Sutherland, Courtney Gould, and Victoria Lee. Twelve years ago, Avril’s mother drowned at Whisper Cove theater, just off the rocky Connecticut coastline. It was ruled an accident, but local legend claims that the women in the waves—ghosts from old whaling stories—called her mother into the ocean with their whispering. While Avril doesn’t believe in ghosts, she knows there are lots of different ways for places—and people—to be haunted. She’s tried to make sense of the strange bits and pieces she does remember from the night she lost her mother. Stars falling into the sea. A blinding light. A tight grip on her wrist. The odd sensation of flying. Now, at seventeen, she’s returning to Whisper Cove and as she becomes more involved with mystery of her mother's death, Whisper Cove reveals itself to her. Distances seem to shift in the strange fog. Echoes of long-past moments bounce off the marsh. And Avril keeps meeting herself—and her dead mother—late at night, at the edge of the ocean. The truth Avril seeks is ready to be discovered. But it will come at a terrible cost. “Sorrowful, haunting, and romantic; a true page-turner.” – Kirkus Reviews "Sain does a beautiful job of combining the paranormal with a page-turning mystery and intense romance, all set against a theater backdrop. A great coming-of-age tale." – Booklist “Rife with romance and secrets.” — BCCB “Nocturnal wanderings and paranormal events add an extra layer of mystery to the twists and turns….atmospheric, thoroughly engrossing. ” — School Library Journal “Harrowing twists and reveals [with] a setting that reads as its own character, providing ethereal ambiance and a palpably unmoored feeling of anticipatory tension. The seething, surrealistic imagery is sure to stay lodged in readers’ minds long after they’ve finished.” — Publishers Weekly Ginny Myers Sain is the New York Times bestselling author of Dark & Shallow Lies and Secrets So Deep . She lives in Florida and has spent the past twenty years working closely with teens as a director and acting instructor in a program designed for high school students seriously intent on pursuing a career in the professional theatre. Having grown up in deeply rural America, she is interested in telling stories about resilient kids who come of age in remote settings. Follow her on Twitter @stageandpage and on Instagram @ginnymyerssain or find her on her website at ginnymyerssain.com. Act I: Scene 1 I was five years old the night stars fell from the sky. They tore loose somehow and came down like rain. I remember the heavy, dull sound of them hitting the water. Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop. I'm watching-waiting for them to do that act again-but tonight they stay pinned to the vast blackness above us. Where they're supposed to be. Which is more than I can say for us, because we're supposed to be in our cabins. Curfew was like an hour ago. But here we are on the beach. The salt hangs heavy in the air. It prickles my skin. Burns my lips. Tickles my memory. I think the girl's name is Viv. The one with her arm around me. We're cabinmates. She has the bunk across from mine, and we are perfect opposites. My hair is the color of ice. More white than blonde. It falls just below my shoulders, hanging straight and limp in the dampness, but Viv's inky curls tumble all the way down her back. Like laughter. Our eyes are almost the same shade of green, but hers are lined in that sexy cat-eye style I can never seem to master. She's swaying back and forth, and she pauses to whisper in my ear. Then she laughs, throaty and low. And I laugh, too. Because Viv is the kind of girl you want to laugh with. The truth is, I didn't catch what she said. Her words were lost to the crash of the waves. The cresting swell of voices all around us. "Avril!" she shouts. "I'll be right back! I gotta pee!" And that I hear, so I nod and take a deep breath. I'm grateful for a few seconds alone in the crowd. A little time to just stand here and take it all in. This is why I came down to the beach tonight. I thought about skipping the party, but I had to be here. In this place. Something inside me wouldn't wait-couldn't wait-for morning. I've always been drawn to the water. Even from landlocked North Texas, I've felt the pull of the tides. Craved the brokenness of the coastline. And now, finally, here I am. Again. Here I am again. There are so many people, though. And I'm not really great with big groups. Or small groups. Or people in general. I haven't met the tall girl writing her initials in the sand by the fire. Or the shaggy-haired guy who's sitting beside her, picking out chords on the guitar. Fragments of melody that Viv and I were trying-failin