The boy clutched a small plastic bucket, firing off a string of loud, half-finished sentences to his mother. She tried to hold him still with one hand while smearing sunscreen across his shoulders, but he twisted and squealed dramatically, his voice carrying easily to Claire’s ears.
Claire lowered her gaze back to the page, determined to ignore it, but the shrill tone sliced through her concentration all the same. Before the sunscreen was even rubbed in, the boy wriggled free and dashed toward the shoreline, his bucket swinging wildly.