ESME

The roar of the outboard motor was the only thing filling the silence between us, and frankly, I preferred the mechanical scream to the pictures my messed up mind was relentlessly trying to bring up.

The salt air was whipping my hair into a chaotic bird’s nest, and the sun was beating down on the Gulf with a vengeance. I sat at the stern, clutching the railing firmly as the boat sliced through the turquoise water.

"Seriously, Es, loosen up," Logan, my brother shouted over the engine. He was leaning against the center console, looking entirely too relaxed in his board shorts and polarized shades. "You look like a...