The voices of her sisters blow past her on the light breeze.
They’re somewhere behind her and out of sight. Her mother’s hand holds tightly to her own, fingers sticky and pink from the remains of a sugary treat.
Together they stroll down the walkway, past the deck chairs and stalls, to the very, very end.
It stretches out in front of them, the deep blue waters and the feeling of freedom, on this, the first day of summer.