My mouth went dry.
The woman kept walking.
She shifted the strap and the brass keychain swung out against her hip.
For one second, the boardwalk seemed to tilt.
I went after her.
Halfway there, I put my hand flat on a parked car and made myself keep walking.
Every part of me wanted to run.
Another part was terrified of getting close enough to be wrong.
She was about 40. Sunburned shoulders, dark hair pulled back.
I had NEVER seen her before in my life.
That should have stopped me.
It didn’t.
I caught her arm.
« Where did you get that bag? »
She pulled back. « Excuse me? »
« That bag. » I couldn’t get my voice steady. « I knitted it. I knitted it for my daughter 16 years ago. »
The woman stared at me.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
People flowed around us on the boardwalk.
A stroller squeaked past.
