Like a kraken risen out of the deeps, its voice never heard before in the world above the water, the intruder speaks again, a roar entwined with a squeal. This time Libby hears her name wrapped in the louder sound, attenuated and distorted—“Liiiiibeeeee”—not spoken in the yearning tone of a mother for her daughter, but as the dead and damned might call jealously to the living. Three more shots follow the first three.
