A lifeguard's jet ski appeared minutes later, but by then, Claire had already dragged Brianna into the shallows. They collapsed together on the wet sand, coughing, shaking, alive.
It was the last Saturday of May, 2024. The kind of perfect, golden afternoon that postcards are made of. Brianna, eighteen and restless, had begged her mom, Claire, to come down to the shore. momcomesfirst240528briannabeachtheaccide link