Nobody would admit fault. A young man with silver hair and a camera harness told him accidents happened in busy destinations. Elias looked at the ruined floats in his hand and said, “This isn’t a destination.” The man shrugged. “It is now.”
That was the morning Elias returned to the water where his father had once taught him to read currents. Fog clung to the cliffs. The Nora May rocked gently beneath him. He cast his net with both hands and waited for the old pull.