I looked out across the water just as the sun began to peak over the horizon. It was humid, even in the early morning, and sweat rolled down my temples as I looked out. There had been a breeze when I started out for my run before the sun came up. I loved running in the gray light of dawn, and the run from my family’s house in the heart of Provincetown out here to the wild and blustery sand dunes on High Head Beach was my favorite way to start the day.
I loved seeing the fishermen on the docks as I ran by. I would wave at them as they loaded up their traps and nets for the day. I liked hearing them calling to each other, welcoming the dawn of another day.
I liked the smell of the early morning air, still cool from the night. Even when it was humid, like today, the air smelled fresher early in the morning.
And I loved when I crested the dunes and saw the water for the first time each day. I liked the sea at all times and in all moods—high or low tide. But seeing it in the morning, before the sun rose and threw its beams across the water, was something really special. Seeing the water so early was like seeing a movie star in her dressing room—like I was seeing her decide who she was going to be that day. Gray and stormy, or calm and gentle.
This morning felt like one of her gentle moods—at least for the moment. The ocean was temperamental and quixotic, and I knew the most dangerous thing I could do was assume I knew what she would do next.
Finally a breeze kicked up, and I turned my face toward it, letting it dry the sweat at my temples. Then I pushed myself to standing and—grabbing the running shoes I’d pulled off—walked to the water’s edge.
A wave rolled in as I reached the edge, and I stepped into it as it broke gently over my feet. The water was still freezing, but I didn’t mind, and I waded in until it reached my knees.
I took a deep breath of the cool, salty air. Then I bent over and—using my free hand—splashed water onto my face.
Gasping from the shock of the cold water, I stood up straight just as the sun rose, seeming to explode over the top of the horizon.
I shielded my eyes from the brightness, and as my gaze trailed over the sky, I saw the last streaks of the pinks and purples of dawn fade away, erased by the blinding sun.
Pulling my phone from the hidden pocket of my running shorts, I snapped a photo of the way the light caught the tips of the dancing waves. Then I sent it over to Jonah Johnson—my best friend.
He replied immediately. Camilla! What is this? Who even are you? How did you get up so early???
Then he sent me a picture of his own, though this one was of him in what I instantly recognized as his room. The photo showed him in bed, his eyes closed—faking sleeping—and snuggled next to his boyfriend, Austin Stewart, who actually did look legitimately asleep.
I smiled as I looked down at the picture, double-tapped it so the little heart appeared, and slid my phone back into my pocket.
My stomach was starting to rumble—ready for breakfast—so it was probably time to get going.
I had just turned to wade back toward the sand when something in my peripheral vision caught my eye.
For a moment I thought it was just a new dune—sometimes the dunes shifted, depending on the wind and tides—but as my sun-blinded eyes adjusted, I felt them widen with shock.
“What is that?” I wondered aloud, frowning.
I hurried out of the water and gazed in shock down the beach. I was looking at bones. Not just a few bones of a desiccated fish some gull had pulled from the water—dozens of bones. No—hundreds.
My heart thudded in my chest as I looked down the beach, and though my instinct fought against me, I started toward them. As I drew closer, I could see that the bones were skeletons of various sea animals, and I had been wrong about the number. There weren’t dozens, and there weren’t hundreds—there were thousands of bones. They were piled in messy mounds, and the mounds stretched on and on across the sand.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let it out, coming out in a rush as I muttered to myself, “What the actual hell?”
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