I turn my back to the stormy sea and look left, taking in the glittery lights of Devil’s Cove in the distance. In front of it, Devil’s Hollow looms like a dark shadow, and our old school, the Devil’s Coast Academy sits on top of it like a poisonous cherry on top of a cake. I crane my neck directly upward, eyes landing on my father’s church. Then focus on the headland in front of it, where, Wednesday morning, I came across my uncle’s latest whore standing too close to the edge. I’d barely gotten a glimpse of her, just a shock of blond hair peeking out from under her hoodie and a brief glance at
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