Coconut Grove nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.

Penn studied her as she responded to his question. Her coat was grey—a notable Blackthorn trait. But that was about where any resemblance ended, to his fairly untrained eyes. It didn’t occur to him to try and compare her to Ibis, not that it would’ve made much difference. He couldn’t totally remember what the girl’s actual mother looked like. Not that any of it mattered. She didn’t really look like him, so he let himself feel that familiar mix of relief and disappointment. He hated the feeling, but it was easier to move on from.

”Ah, well. Be careful. There might be coyotes about,” Penn replied a bit uselessly. He looked out across the water again and took a deep breath. He let it go in a huff a moment later and his face contorted into a frown. He shook his head and looked at her again.

”I take it you’ve never been to this place before?” he asked conversationally.