Sarah
She dug her tiny hand as far into the sand as she could manage, and used the other hand to bury it, as far down as it could go, no threat of hell because that is where she was living. It was merely a ritual, but it made her feel safe again and allowed her to think of her family, her parents laughing over Sunday morning breakfast, as her and her sister impersonated the family who sat in the pew in front of them in church. You know the kind of blasphemy that wasn’t really blasphemy. Of course, now she didn’t know right from wrong, although maybe she never did.