“I am talking to you,” Claire said evenly, though her cheeks burned. “And I’ve already asked you before to keep him from—” The boy’s mother cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand, muttering something under her breath as she turned back to her laptop, signaling the conversation was over in her mind.
Claire considered packing up. Maybe finding a quieter spot farther down the beach. But the thought of trudging across the hot sand, juggling her things, and hunting for peace again felt exhausting.