Saltwater in Our Veins - Johnny Sinclair
19 parts Ongoing On Beechwood Island, everything gleams.
The sun on the water, the crisp white of the Sinclair houses, the perfect smiles of perfect families.
I've known Johnny Sinclair my whole life - or at least, the version of him that summers here: charming, sharp-tongued, golden. The boy who lives for July Fourth bonfires, for cannonball splashes off the dock, for teasing me about my hair when it frizzes in the salt air.
We are the children of old money. We are the products of privilege and tradition. We are beautiful liars, all of us.
And yet, when the cracks start to show - in the family, in the friendships, in the island itself - Johnny's the only one who looks me in the eye and sees me for real.
Maybe that's why I never saw the disaster coming.