MARI

I stared out of Pierce’s large patio door at the view of the ocean in the back of his home as I sipped on my glass of orange juice. The position was one I’d become familiar with often the last few days, as if the ocean called to me. I never stopped to admire the view or the waves as they crashed across the beach when I lived in San Francisco. There wasn’t time then, but now time was all I had.

Guilt washed over me as the waves ripped sand from the beaches ...