She lazed with her feet dug into the sand, the sun beating down on her as she watched the the little brat run up and down the shore like a lost dog. The steely look in his eyes, his tongue peeping out the side of his mouth. What a fool. Babysitting had never been easier. This was much better than having to sit and dig a moat while he whined “that’s not deep enough” or “that’s not wide enough” or worse yet “why isn’t there any water?” This way she could enjoy her day at the beach as she’d originally intended. About ten minutes had passed, when she began to notice the growing number of children trundling along after him. Placing a hand over her brow, she wondered at the sight. He couldn’t have possibly convinced all of them to help him look for a fabricated shell, right? She imagined hundreds of parents swarming her like locusts, or ants on an ice cream, accusing her of misleading their precious children. On top of that, she’d face the wrath of her own parents. Deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle, she heaved out of the plastic chair and began traipsing over to the hoard of oblivious children. Scouring her mind for an excuse. “Hey Lyla I found it!” He flew up the beach with a toothy grin, something shiny in his outstretched palm. “What?”