She turned toward his mother again. The woman was leaning closer to her laptop now, her brows drawn in concentration, fingers moving at a rapid pace. Whatever she was working on had swallowed her whole. Claire bit back the urge to speak again.
Not yet, she told herself. Just… not yet. She considered packing up and moving to a quieter spot, somewhere far enough away that she wouldn’t have to track the boy’s every movement. But as she scanned the beach, she saw the open stretches of sand had mostly vanished.