The Currituck Sound looked hazy through the old picture window, thanks to gauze curtains and an overcast sky. A face floated in and out of the folds, one I saw in my dreams and the gallery of photos on my phone—my brother, Daniel. I came to the Outer Banks often, always hoping he'd appear. I'd told myself this time would be the last. Somehow that had only made it worse. Since I arrived this morning, I'd scanned every face I saw. Listened for his laughter as I entered the lobby. Hoped to hear his voice above the roar of the ocean as I made my way over the dunes to the crowded beach. See his shining eyes as I walked at the ocean's edge. Find an end to painful memories. None of that happened. I returned to the hotel room, defeated. The silence in the room offered no solace.
I needed to get out.