Summary:

Shane had known of Ilya Rozanov since his cottage stood on the shores of the lake. The creature had yanked him off his jetski one summer. And whilst Shane had flailed, sure he'd met his end - via drowning or mauling yet to be determined - Ilya had brought him back to the surface, laughed as water had streamed from Shane's nose, tapped his freckles and disappeared. Now, many years later, Ilya lounges on Shane's dock, a burger held in his webbed hands and a frown on his face. Or, a hockey player by the name of Ilya Rozanov does not exist. But a being that inhabits a lake in Ottawa does.