The gulls circled overhead, crying like warnings no one would ever listen to. He was tightening the last strap when footsteps sounded behind him. “You really mean to go back out there?” Elias turned. A man stood a few paces away, lean and weathered, his face creased from years at sea. His eyes, though, held something raw, something searching.
“Depends who’s asking,” Elias said. “Name’s Edwin.” The man stepped closer. “You were in the bar last night. I heard you talking to Collins.” Elias nodded. “So you’re the one they won’t let near the water.” Edwin’s jaw flexed.