“Sorry, what?”
Ashlee started at the abrupt, inscrutable declaration, and peered at Felicity through a sudden sandy gust. She stood stiff and tall like piling in the shore, eyes set beyond the horizon. Feet planted lest she topple over with a step, she twisted to the other Davises. Yaidali was fifty yards away already, dodging waves as she washed off the shells she was collecting. Marisol was clearly annoyed, suffering her husband’s demands out of marital obligation, if just barely. At her