“You were just walking into the surf and then sat on the shore. You were so happy a moment ago.” Dad rubs my shoulder. He’s a full seven inches taller than me and his strength is always reassuring. Of course, at his words I don’t need reassurance, I need to be grounded -- it can’t be true, can it?
“Shut up.” My mouth sags a little. “It’s really July tenth? Manson is still in business? There haven’t been any...accidents?”