The sun drooped into a copper haze, and gulls cackled overhead like gossiping bystanders. Tessa squatted to examine a scallop shell, letting the chill of the sea seep into her bones. For the first time in weeks, she felt the stirrings of peace.
Tessa walked the tide line, toes sinking in smooth sand. A dark shape bobbed far out on the swells—long, low, and bulky. It reminded her of a drift log that sometimes washed ashore after storms. She shrugged and kept moving, hunting for shells glinting in the fading light.