THAT EVENING, THE WINDS were calm enough for the group to gather around a fire that Eva had asked Cain to build out on the beach. The seven of them gathered on log benches around the crackling fire.
Brigid laughed. “We should make more fires. I so love the heat and pops.” She giggled, waving her hands through the flames.
Marin scowled and inched away from the fire. “You’re going to burn your hands off, Brig.” Eva smiled, sympathetic to Marin. He was the only plastic creature that was afraid of fire, something she had in common with him.
“Oh, don’t be such a buzzkill, Marin. It doesn’t even hurt—ow!” Brig pulled her hand out of the fire and blew on it.
“It doesn’t, does it?” Marin smirked at her. She waved him off but kept her hands a safer distance from the flames.
Iris walked over to
