For a few golden hours, it was just us and the sea.
Eventually, one by one, the others began to head back toward shore—tired, sun-drunk, and smiling.
I followed, paddling slowly, letting the calm soak in a little longer.
Behind me, I could hear Mrs. Mulroney still talking to herself, wobbling wildly but grinning like she’d just discovered a new religion. She was in no rush. And even though she wasn’t very good at it, she was clearly having the time of her life.
On the sand, Rashida was already talking about smoothies. Angus was dripping and giddy. Tutu gave Mr. Banks a towel and Mr. Banks gave her a kiss. We were right on the edge of calling it a perfect afternoon—
Then Leilani stood up suddenly, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Shark,” she said. Not loud. Not screaming. Just firm. Clear.
Everything stopped.
“What?” I asked, thinking I’d misheard her.
She pointed. “There. Out by the reef.”
I turned. We all did.
And that’s when I saw her.
Mrs. Mulroney.
Still out there. Still on her board.
Still smiling.
Oblivious.
“Oh my God,” Cal muttered. “She’s the only one still in the water.”
He swiftly scooped up his board and was already moving.
“Kimo—”
“On it,” Kimo said.
Boards under their arms, Cal and Kimo were suddenly sprinting back into the water.
The rest of us raced to the water’s edge.
“Do we warn her?” Angus asked, his breath short.
“She’ll panic,” Leilani said. “The last thing she should do right now is panic.”
“It’s moving toward her,” Tilly breathed in horror.
Out on the water, Mrs. Mulroney saw Cal and Kimo hit the surf again, paddling fast with their hands, boards under their chests, making long, deliberate strides straight toward her.
She stood a little taller.
Then squinted.
“Why are you coming back?” she yelled. “What’s wrong with your faces? Is there something behind me?!”
“She knows now,” Angus said grimly, like a man narrating a documentary about a gazelle realizing too late that it’s alone on the savannah.
