He looked in the rearview mirror, and for a moment he saw Paul’s face looking back at him. The eyes were dull, dead, the mouth slack and the skin ashen. Hudson felt his heart cease beating. The blare of a car horn jumped it to life again, and he swerved just in time to avoid a collision with an SUV. When he looked in the mirror again, he saw only his own face.

“What are you doing?” he asked himself.

Ahead of him was a turnoff. He took it, pulling the car onto a narrow strip of sand that served as a makeshift parking lot for tourists wanting a view of the ocean. He turned the engine off, grabbed the briefcase from the seat beside him, and opened it. He took up the manuscript and got out of the car, taking it with him.

There was no path to follow, so he walked down the sandy dunes as best he could, his feet sinking into the sand and throwing him off balance. He walked without thinking, heading for the water. The beach was mostly empty, the sandy expanse dotted only with a handful of people, none of them paying attention to Hudson.

He walked to the edge of the water and stopped. The waves here were bigger. The water, when it rushed toward him, moved quickly, sliding over the wet sand with an eagerness that frightened him, as if it were in search of treasures to take back to the sea. He thrust the manuscript pages out toward the breaking waves. “Here!” he shouted. “Take it!”

He lifted his arm into the wind, ready to let go and send the pages flapping into the ocean. But his fingers refused to move. He tried to force them, but some invisible power kept his muscles frozen.

“Take them,” he said again, but already the strength of his voice was fading. “Please,” he sobbed as he dropped to his knees. “Please take it.”

The water came for him. He tried to fling the papers into its path, and again he couldn’t. When the edge of the wave touched his knees, he cradled the manuscript to his chest, holding it tightly until the water retreated again. Before another wave could come, he forced himself to his feet and turned back.

I can’t, he thought. It’s been too long. I can’t let it go.

A little girl ran in front of him, shrieking with joy as a smaller boy chased her, holding a crab in his hand and promising to drop it down the back of her shirt. They paid no attention to Hudson as he stopped to let them pass. He watched them for a moment, envious of their carelessness, then returned to his car.