Five-year-old James Merritt lies in a hospital bed--the sixth victim in a series of accidents plaguing a peaceful Connecticut community. 'Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, the shadow man will go away. He sees the glint of the needle. The pain does not alarm him. In his wildest imagining, he has never dreamed death would come in such a tiny, innocent way.' Cinnie Merritt holds her son's limp and weightless hand, trying to explain away the injuries that don't add up, the strange medical reactions, the nonsense words he keeps repeating, the shattering sense of foreboding. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. 'Please let my baby be all right. Please let him wake up and be fine.' At night, a stalking figure makes its silent way into the hospital room. 'You belong to me now, child of my salvation. Wellspring of health and healing. Sweet servant of the dark moon. From the dark corner of a mother's world nightmare . . .Someone's Watching.