“Somebody left a baby on the beach. Do you see it?”
“That’s not a baby. Somebody piled up rocks and it looks like a baby.” He kept stirring the soup on the stove.
She trained the binoculars on the pile of rocks. Little arms waved.
“It’s definitely a baby. I’m going to go see.” The door slammed hard behind her. She ran barefoot through the sand and around the thorny knapweed. She had to hurry. If the baby was an orphan someone else might claim it.
The sand was smoothed over where the baby had been, the rocks strewn everywhere.