Marine paint was thicker than standard house paint. It took Elias twice as long to spread it, but the result was a brilliant, dazzling white that looked like it belonged on a ship's hull. By the time he finished the last coat on the front door, the moon was high and the town was asleep.

His muscles didn't just ache; they throbbed with a dull, rhythmic heat. He sat on the edge of the porch, his legs dangling. His hands were a mess: stained with black grease from Old Silas's windlass and splatter