“Mom.”
One word carried an entire message.
Please trust me.
I smiled.
“Alright.”
Her face lit up.
“Thank you.”
She hugged me quickly before either of us could reconsider.
Daniel laughed.
“I think that hug was mostly for getting permission.”
“I’ll take it.”
A staff member handed them orange life jackets.
Liam checked Maya’s straps before securing his own.
They climbed onto the inflatable with six other riders.
I pulled out my phone.
“Look over here.”
They both turned.
Maya grinned.
Liam raised a thumb.
I took the photo just as the boat began pulling away from the dock.
The inflatable bounced across the golden water while Maya laughed and waved once more.
Daniel put an arm around my shoulders.
“You did good.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“But you did.”
We returned to our chairs.
“They’ll be back before you know it.”
Fifteen minutes passed.
Another banana boat returned.
Families climbed off laughing.
Maya and Liam weren’t among them.
I frowned.
“Maybe they took a longer route.”
Daniel nodded.
“I’m sure that’s all it is.”
I tried to believe him.
Thirty minutes passed.
The sky turned from gold to orange.
Still nothing.
I sat upright.
“Aren’t they taking a while?”
Daniel looked toward the water.
“A little.”
Another boat returned.
Different riders.
Different faces.
The beach slowly emptied as families headed inside for dinner.
I stood.
“I’m going to ask someone.”
The rental attendant looked up as I approached.
“My daughter was on the last banana boat with a boy named Liam. They haven’t come back yet.”
He frowned and checked his clipboard.
“They should have.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“The ride normally takes 20 minutes.”
He grabbed a radio.
“This is Dock One. Checking on the sunset run.”
Static.
He tried again.
Nothing.
I looked toward the bay.
The horizon was nearly empty.
Daniel hurried over.
“What did they say?”
Before I answered, the attendant lowered the radio.
A worried crease appeared on his forehead.
“I can’t raise them.”
Suddenly, every sound around me seemed to disappear.
Daniel stared at him.
“What do you mean you can’t raise them?”
The attendant glanced at the radio.
“They should have checked in by now.”
He pressed the button again.
“Sunset run, this is Dock One. Come in.”
Nothing.
Only static.
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Call someone else.”
“I’m trying, sir.”
Another employee rushed over.
They exchanged worried looks before one disappeared toward the main office.
I walked toward the shoreline.
The ocean had changed completely.
The golden water from my photo less than an hour earlier had turned deep blue.
Small waves rolled onto the sand.
The horizon was empty.
No banana boat.
No speedboat.
No orange life jackets.
Nothing.
“They have to be out there.”
I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Daniel or myself.
He wrapped his arm around me.
“We’ll find them.”
“They’re probably stranded.”
I nodded.
I wanted desperately to believe that.
Ten more minutes passed.
Still nothing.
Several employees had gathered near the dock.
One spoke rapidly into a phone.
Another climbed into a rescue boat.
Daniel grabbed the attendant’s arm.
“Tell me what’s happening.”
“We’re contacting emergency services.”
My knees nearly gave out.
Emergency services.
I looked toward the ocean again.
Every terrible possibility I’d spent 16 years trying not to imagine rushed into my mind at once.
Had they fallen into the water?
Were they still out there?
Someone touched my arm.
Rebecca.
Liam’s mother.
She looked just as terrified.
“They’ll find them.”
I nodded automatically.
Neither of us sounded convinced.
Chris stood with Daniel, scanning the water.
Nobody spoke.
There was nothing to say.
An hour after the kids left, flashing lights appeared near the resort entrance.
Two emergency vehicles pulled onto the property.
Lifeguards began unloading equipment.
Guests gathered along the beach, whispering.
Everything felt strangely distant.
Like I was watching someone else’s nightmare.
Then I saw a man walking toward us.
The resort’s general manager.
I’d seen him greeting guests earlier that week.
Now his face was pale.
He wasn’t looking at the emergency crews.
He wasn’t looking at the water.
He was looking directly at us.
A phone was in his hand.
He stopped in front of Daniel and me.
“I need both of you to come with me.”
“Did they find them?” I asked.
He swallowed.
“You need to see something first.”
He led us into the quiet lobby.
Rebecca and Chris followed.
Inside a small office, the manager placed the phone on his desk.
“It’s security footage.”
My heart hammered.
“Just tell me if she’s alive.”
He hesitated.
“Please watch.”
He pressed play.
The first clip came from a camera near the far end of the bay.
The banana boat appeared exactly where I expected.
It was heading back toward the resort.
Relief rushed through me.
“They’re coming back.”
Then Liam suddenly began signaling frantically to the driver.
The driver immediately changed direction.
Instead of continuing toward the resort, he turned sharply.
Straight away from the resort.
“What is he doing?”
The words escaped before I realized I’d spoken.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Why is he leaving?”
The manager paused the video.
Nobody moved.
Rebecca stared at the frozen image of her son.
“I don’t understand.”
Neither did I.
The boat had been almost back.
Why would Liam suddenly send them away?
The manager took a breath.
“Keep watching.”
He opened another clip.
For several seconds, everything looked normal.
Then Maya slumped sideways.
One moment she was upright.
The next, she collapsed against the inflatable.
I covered my mouth.
“No.”
Liam turned toward her.
