The driving rain crashed with fury against the window panes. It was well after midnight when Rachel had calmed Jacob's fears and he was finally asleep. He had always been terrified of the violent storms that frequently attacked Gray Harbor, a small village on the coast of Maine. Rachel had hoped that his dread of the "spooky" weather, as he called it, would have subsided, but he had just turned five, and still it continued. She crawled into bed totally exhausted and felt a sense of relief that the long day was over. Matthew had left earlier that afternoon for the West Coast to research his new book. He had seemed withdrawn for the past several days, but she was unable to account for his distance behavior. Their busy schedules had denied them the opportunity to clear the air, and she hoped that he would call soon.

Rachel's eyes burned and her body ached. As she lay there, she began to scan the room. The harbor light cast harsh shadows through the lace curtains. She focused on the antique desk, bookcases overflowing with Keats, Tennyson, T.S. Eliot, and several of Matthew's own works. Then she saw the intercom that he used to talk to her while she was in the kitchen. Why was the light blinking? It really didn't matter now, for fatigue had taken over. She drifted off into a deep, disruptive sleep. She has taken Jacob to hunt for shells along the beach. He is laughing as he romps ahead of her, swinging his pail. She turns as she hears a group of small children giggling while they throw bread crumbs to the swooping seagulls. When she looks back toward Jacob , he is gone. His yellow pail is rolling along the sand, headed into the surf. Rachel begins to run, but finds her legs will not move , a dreamer's paralysis. Is Jacob in the water?

"Is Jacob in the water?" It sounded like Matthew's voice, but she couldn't be sure. Was it still her dream? "Is Jacob in the water?" Rachel bolted from her bed as she returned to reality. The voice had come from the intercom. She raced across the hall into Jacob's bedroom. His bed was empty. After a hurried search of the upper floors, she cautiously moved toward the kitchen. She saw nothing. As she headed for the back door, she noticed the wet floor. Someone had stood by the small oak table where the intercom was placed. Glancing down, she saw it. Matthew's briefcase. Rachel raced out of the house, in a frenzy, to the beach. As she approached the rocky ledge that led to the beach, she heard him say, "Is Jacob in the water?" She turned around and froze. Matthew stood looking down at her with icy vengeance. Those once gentle blue eyes now penetrated through her with blazing hatred. She circled to run back to the house, but her legs wouldn't move , a dreamer's paralysis? Is Rachel on the rocky ledge? Is Matthew trying to kill her? Is Jacob sleeping safely in his bed or is Jacob in the water? n