Daphne and Eddie are really happy to see each other again. This isn't some social niceties being exchanged, some cordial status quo being maintained — this is a case of two people genuinely elated to see each other again.

They meet again. And again. And every bit of it comes off as a genuine interaction. They weren't being nice to each other. They were happy to be together, to spend time together. Eddie Triplett was evidently the father that Daphne Fuller loved, respected, wanted in her life.

And in the gaps of each interaction, the past started to get clearer and clearer. Why did Eddie disappear? What happened in the lives of Daphne, her sister, and their mother since? What happened to Eddie since? How would the story now progress? Of love, loss, and hope — this is a tale beautifully told.

However, that's not all there is to it. The central motif of this novel is based on a story that Eddie, an editor in a publication house, had received for commissioning a long, long time back. When he was father to Daphne. It told the story of a woman who had a horse called Whistler, a horse who would always come when the lady whistled. One day, after a storm of sorts, one of the other horses in the barn had managed to bolt. The lady rode off on Whistler to see if she could find the horse and bring her back. But during the entire exercise, she endures a fall which breaks her ankle. Unable to move, she lies there in the wilderness, as she hallucinates the presence of her loved ones who had died — a dear friend, her father, her young son, her old dog. They keep her company, they tell her that they are all doing well, they give her hope and courage, they stay with her till the worst is over — and then they tell her: Whistle.

She uses the last bit of strength and energy she has, and she whistles. And on cue, Whistler makes his way back to her. He helps her mount again — going a whole extra distance to help her get on his back, almost perhaps to atone for throwing her off in the first place — and she is reunited with her family once more.

The lady had thought this to be a good subject matter of a book she never wrote. Eddie remained hopeful for the longest time. He believed in this story, he wanted to see it be realised. He even went on to frame the picture of the lady and Whistler, the horse, that had been included with the book proposal. It remained with him till recently, when he handed it over to Daphne, the one person he truly considered to be his daughter, his only true family.

And that's when you realise — that Daphne is Whistler. For Eddie. The reason why Eddie left, the reason why he was estranged from the family was because of a car accident he had caused. And the person with him in that car that fateful night was little Daphne. In that freezing cold, upturned precariously inside a car where Eddie's ankle was crushed, that was where he had first told Daphne the story of Whistler. And after they somehow managed to survive the night, Daphne had managed to scurry out of the car and return with help. Sure, Daphne's mother used that as an excuse to get Eddie to leave — endangering her daughter — but there turned out to be many more layers to that, which someone will have to read the story to fully comprehend. I'm not that evil to give out every nook and cranny of this wonderfully written book.

But that realisation, of Daphne being Whistler for Eddie, that is where an already solid bond of stepfather and stepdaughter lost the word "step" for the both of them. And the way that story was told to us, the smitten readers, was absolutely beautiful.

Whistler has already attained its fair share of critical acclaim. And once you read the book, cover to cover, you realise why. The relationship between Eddie and Daphne is one you truly end up cherishing. And in all of this, like little Daphne had told Eddie that fateful night in an upturned car — does the Whistler story have an unhappy ending — you are relieved to know that it didn't. Not for Whistler, not for Daphne, and not for Eddie.

A good story well told is its own reward.

Whistler is its own reward.