“I love the beach after a storm. When I was thirteen, a banker's bag washed up on this same beach with exactly $319 inside--- I know because I counted out every bill--- along with a waterlogged handgun. Bee called the police, who traced the remnants to a bank robbery gone wrong seventeen years prior. Seventeen years. The Puget Sound is like a time machine, hiding things and then spewing them back onto its shores at the time and place of its choosing.”
Book:The Violets of March
