I stare at him. “You can’t risk not winning. Not because of me.” Sean doesn’t lift his eyes from the counter. “We make our move when you make yours. You on the inside, me on...

Did no one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with our blood?

As the sun shines low and red across the water, I wade into the ocean. The water is still high and brown and murky with the memory of the storm, so if there’s something below...

Somewhere close bye, a man is moaning; he’s been trampled or thrown or bitten. He sounds resentful or surprised. Did no one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with...