Moonglass

to leave.
    He gave one last look around, then nodded once. “Hop in.”

CHAPTER 25
    Outside the town car’s window angry clouds loomed as far as I could see, and rain fell in translucent walls. I sat silently, but felt the driver’s eye on me in the rearview mirror.
    “Not feeling well, huh?” I didn’t answer. “There’s always something going around. I tell ya what, though. You go home, get some sleep, then drink some yerba maté. You’ll feel much better. Ashley got me started on the stuff months ago, and I haven’t been sick since.” I nodded politely and tried to smile.
    “Actually”—he reached across the front seat—”I’ve got some you can take with you. Here.” He handed back a brown bag, then looked at me again in the mirror. “It’s wonder stuff. Great for the memory, too, I read somewhere.”
    “Thanks.” I looked down at the bag in my hands. I didn’t need any help with my memory, though. That was crystal clear.
    She had paused as I’d trailed behind her in the wind. And when she did, I froze, suddenly afraid of how angry she would be that I had followed her. She paused and she looked out at the ocean, her hair and skirt whipping around behind her. And in silhouette she was beautiful, like a mermaid out of water, and all I wanted to do was make her happy again, so I looked down to the sand at my feet, hoping to find a piece of glass for her. And it was there, all by itself, next to the vague imprint of her foot. She had walked right over a piece of moonglass, a perfect delicate triangle with smoothed edges. I bent into the wind to pick it up, and when I held it up to the moonlight, it glowed a deep red. And I ran. Ran to show her what I had found, because I knew she would pick me up and spin me around and tell me I had found a treasure. She wouldn’t be mad once I showed her, so I yelled, ecstatic, as my bare feet slapped over cold, wet sand. “Mommy! Mommy! I found moonglass!” It would make her so happy.
    And then I slowed down, confused and out of breath, until I stood digging my toes into the sand as I watched.
    She stood knee-deep in the water, and her skirt clung to her legs. On sunny days we would sometimes wade in up to our knees and peer down in between the breaking waves to look for pieces of glass being tumbled around underwater. But she wasn’t looking down. She wasn’t searching for glass.
    She was staring straight out at the ocean, like she didn’t even feel the cold or the wind.
    I watched, confused.
    I watched her walk out there. And the wind howled around me, and my toes went numb, and I watched. She loved to swim. She was the one who could coax me into the water when the sound of the waves scared me onto the sand. But on that night I didn’t follow her. I watched from the shore as she waded out into the frigid black water.
    She didn’t flinch or turn back when it reached her chest. She didn’t raise her arms up to keep them from the cold. She didn’t swim.
    She just walked out.
    I stood there who knows how long, watching the spot where she went under, waiting. I didn’t take my eyes off it, because I didn’t want to miss her when she came back up. I would surprise her there on the beach, and she would be so proud of my red piece of moonglass—
    “Miss? If you like, I could walk you the rest of the way to your cottage.”
    We were parked at a sign that read FOOT TRAFFIC ONLY at the entrance to the park. The driver turned around, waiting for me to answer. Behind him rain streamed down the windshield and wind whipped the palm trees, threatening to break them apart.
    “No. Thanks. I’ll walk.”
    He looked concerned. “You sure you’re all right?”
    I leveled my eyes at him and smiled. “I’m fine. really. tell Ashley I’m sorry and that I’ll call her.” He faced forward and eyed the dirt road that was now a minefield of puddles, before turning back to me. “Then take the umbrella, at least. And get into dry clothes as soon as you get home.”
    “I will.” I nodded. “Thank you.” I opened the door and then the umbrella, waved good-bye, and stepped out into the wind and rain like I didn’t feel a thing.
    As soon as I rounded the corner, I collapsed the umbrella and let the rain fall hard onto my face. It pricked my cheeks, then ran down like tears I wouldn’t let fall. She had seen me, I knew. And then she had left me, alone, shivering cold, waiting for her to come back.
    Now a burst of white water on sand reverberated against the