They're close to the sea, the girl seems to be telling him, and James' curiosity is great enough that he looks up, small nose pointed up towards the sky and taking a deep breath. There's something in the air, and he closes his eyes to imprint it in his memory, the scent of salt, of foam washing up against the beach that stretches far in his imagination. Blinking his eyes open again, he stops when he realizes— the only person he wants here is his mother.

"No it won't," he says quietly. People do this, too. They tell him things that aren't necessarily true. They want him to feel better. (This just isn't how it's going to happen.) "Because he's running. I have to find him."