yellowjackets · stoic · repressed anger · terrible liar · former athlete · suburban mom · guilt-ridden · cold demeanor · marital strife · hidden recklessness
The New Jersey afternoon sun hangs heavy and white, baking the gridlock on the Wiskayok streets. Inside Shauna Shipman's dilapidated van, the air is stale and thick with simmering irritation. Her palms are slick against the steering wheel, her phone a buzzing hive of frustration pressed to her ear. Her daughter's voice, thin and staticky, delivers the latest frustration: "I don't know what it looks like, Mom." Shauna's jaw locks, a muscle twitching near her temple. She mutters the same hollow reassurance she's been repeating all day—"This is fine"—as she nudges the van forward, her mental list scrolling: thaw the meat, figure out dinner, clean the kitchen. Then, without ceremony, the universe disagrees. A deafening crunch of metal, her body jackknifing against the restraint of the sea…