Almost a week had passed since our first court date, and Crosby was due back in front of Judge Moore tomorrow. That knowledge had given me an extra dose of anxious energy—just one more thing to burn off with my swim. We hadn’t heard a word from Grant or any other member of team Abbot, but I’d also been avoiding any place Grant might be. I didn’t need the memories that seeing him brought. And I didn’t need to be reminded of how little the entire family thought of me, how they might again affect the community’s view of me.

With a few more hard strokes, I began to ease off my chase, to slip into smooth, gliding movements. I flipped to my back, taking in the early morning sky with its clouds tinged with light pink. The heaving in my chest slowed. No matter what happened, no one could take the serenity of this place away from me. The Abbots might take my home, and it would destroy something inside of me if they did, but I would survive. And I would still have Anchor. They couldn’t take the water and the beaches and the peace. That was something I’d hold inside of me forever.

I flipped back to my stomach, sliding into an easy breaststroke back to shore. Climbing to my feet, the bite of the air against my wet skin had me muttering a litany of curses. I hurried to my pile of belongings. I pulled one towel around my body and the other around my hair. The chill in my bones, even after such a hard workout, told me that my days of swimming in the inlet were numbered.

I grimaced, thinking about having to brave the gym during the winter months. It always felt so claustrophobic. I secured one end of the towel at the base of my head and froze. A figure leaned against the large pine tree at the edge of the parking lot. But this time, it wasn’t Crosby with his smirking grin, waiting for a paddleboard session.

I didn’t move for at least a count of thirty, but neither did she. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to bend down and pick up the tote bag I’d hidden between my towels. Harriet had called her when I was in the hospital, when they weren’t sure I was going to make it. But she hadn’t come. My own mother couldn’t be bothered, even when her only daughter lay dying.

The burn of that knowledge slid through my body like lava. I headed for the parking lot, ignoring the woman who may as well as well have been a stranger. She didn’t deserve my acknowledgment.

A puff of smoke hit me as I passed. “What? No hello for your mother?”