THE GOD WHO STAYED
I. The storm took the boat on the second night. Alexander Croft did not fight it; he sat on the deck of the small vessel, his hands wrapped around a rope that was soaking wet and smelled of salt and old tar, and he watched the stars go out one by one as the clouds moved in from the east like an army. He had been at sea for eleven days. The voyage had been planned with the methodical precision...
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