The sound of the truck’s doors slamming shut was muffled by the waves below. A small embankment gave beachgoers access, but there was no one else here. Phoebe tucked her sandals in her pockets and gathered up her skirt, following Zanne down the slope. At the bottom of the bluff, she dropped her sandals on the sand. Zanne sat down to work off her boots. The beach was narrow here—rocks, a bed of sand, then the water.

Phoebe stepped forward into the night. A light breeze played with the folds of her dress. The sand beneath her toes was wet and cold. The ocean reached for her, its soft waves kissed by moonlight. She unzipped the hanbok, folding it carefully to take home to Umma. She placed it safely on a rock. Phoebe stood in her bra and underwear. The night air brought out goose bumps on her skin. Zanne was still tugging off her jeans, but if Phoebe waited for her, she would lose her nerve.

Phoebe ran into the surf. The icy sting on her ankles, her knees. She dove under the next wave, taking the full shock of the cold with her entire body. When she surfaced, all her lungs knew how to do was suck in, filling her again. Oh! her lips said. Zanne yelled like a child and rushed in, the salty spray splashing Phoebe in the face. Phoebe rubbed her eyes. Zanne was standing right next to her, tank top and boxer briefs drenched and clinging. They waded in farther, pulling up their toes, stretching out their arms. They kicked out their legs and lay back, rocking in the surf under stars that were gone already, even as their light was just arriving.

Acknowledgments

When you debut your first book in your forties, it’s no small thing to honor everyone who loved and supported you along the way. I’m forever grateful to those who lifted me up and kept me going, especially in those moments when it seemed it might never happen.

To my parents, Bob and Pam Hart, thank you for showing me how to be steady and true. You didn’t count on having a writer in the family, but I couldn’t have done it without your example. To the rest of the Hart family, and to the Stewarts, Houstons, and Lees, thank you for giving me what Zanne never had—a wind at my back.