¶1It was the kind of July morning that seems to have been arranged for photographs. The lake lay flat and silver under a cloudless sky; the Murrays had spread their blue blanket under the oaks, and Aunt Ruth was unpacking sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. Out on the water, the twins were racing each other to the wooden float, shrieking with laughter every time one of them swallowed a mouthful of the lake. Even the dog had given up chasing ducks and lay panting in the shade.

¶2Then the siren sounded.

¶3Every head turned toward the ranger station. Aunt Ruth dropped the sandwiches. Out on the float, the twins stopped laughing and stood very still, staring at the shore.