“I’m putting it on the highest tower,” he whispered.
“It’s for Dad.”
Before he could place it…
a woman strode across the sand.
Designer sunglasses.
Phone already filming.
She stepped up to the shoreline, glanced at our castle, and frowned.
“This is ruining the view from my blanket.”
Before I could react, she swung her leg and kicked through the tallest tower.
Then another.
Then another.
One kick sent the entire castle collapsing into the waves.
Noah just stood there.
Holding the little American flag he’d been about to place on top.
His lip trembled.
“But…” he whispered.
“I made it for my dad.”
The woman rolled her eyes.
“It’s just sand.”
I pulled my son into my arms as he sobbed into my shoulder.
About twenty minutes later, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
Everyone turned.
A senior lifeguard was walking straight toward the woman.
