Barry would have his victory. He and his Singularity finally dragged each other, bleeding and maimed, into the Tasmanian harbor. But his hero's welcome would be subdued at best. Tragedy had touched this sportsman's paradise. The woman run down on Zayante Road had been the very same she had met months before, in the feral hills above Santa Cruz.
Some tragedies are beyond mending, beyond consolation, beyond compensation.
Liz had known Kiki only a few months, and had met her bohemian, headstrong daughter only once. She was unprepared, and unequal, to the task. There would be little time for deliberation, in any case. She offered her assistance, and Kiki gratefully accepted. Liz had never seen the ocean so gentle, so compliant, so manifestly full of sympathy.