The boat cuts through the water, leaving a thin white trail behind it as the morning sun climbs higher into the sky.
George stands at the wheel, one hand resting against the worn wood, the other adjusting the throttle. The engine hums beneath their feet. Waves slap against the side of the boat in a steady rhythm, filling the silence between him and Tyler.
Tyler sits near the edge, watching the water roll by.
Neither of them says much.
George looks up.
Something feels wrong.
The sky above Wild Oak is clear, stretched wide and blue, but there isn’t a single bird flying overhead.
No gulls.
No hawks.
Nothing.
George narrows his eyes and scans the horizon.
Two fishing boats sit in the distance, small against the endless ocean.
That’s it.
Only two.
He slows the boat and steers toward them.
As they approach, one of the fishermen lifts a hand in greeting.
George pulls alongside.
“Where is everybody?” George asks.
The fisherman shrugs, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.
“Low tide means no fish.”
Another fisherman sitting nearby laughs, his cheeks red and his words slightly slurred.
“Sounds like more fish for us.”
He pats the side of his boat.
George lets out a small laugh.
“Yeah, maybe.”
But he doesn’t sound convinced.
He looks back toward the empty water.
Something about the ocean feels different.
Like it’s waiting.
George pulls away.
They travel farther out.
Far enough that Wild Oak becomes a distant line of trees along the shore.
George cuts the engine.
The sudden quiet feels heavier than before.
He and Tyler work together, pulling the net from the side of the boat.
The ropes slide through their hands.
They cast.
Then they wait.
The ocean rocks them gently.
Minutes pass.
Then more.
Tyler leans back in his seat and looks toward the sky.
Nothing.
He checks his phone.
Then his stomach growls.
He looks embarrassed.
George glances over.
“That bad?”
Tyler shrugs.
“I skipped breakfast.”
George shakes his head.
“You always skip breakfast.”
Tyler smiles faintly.
“And you always complain about it.”
For a moment, things feel normal.
Almost.
Then George looks at the water.
The feeling returns.
The sun is fully above the horizon now.
8:00 a.m.
George stands and walks toward the net.
“Let’s see what we got.”
Tyler sits up.
“Hopefully something worth selling.”
George grabs the rope and begins pulling.
The net rises slowly from the water.
Water pours through the holes and splashes against the deck.
The first thing they see is seaweed.
Then rocks.
A few small fish tangled between the weeds.
Nothing special.
George keeps pulling.
Then he stops.
Something is caught deeper inside.
Something dark.
At first, he thinks it’s more seaweed.
Then it shifts with the movement of the waves.
Hair.
Dark brown.
The exact shade of Jasmine’s hair.
George freezes.
The rope tightens in his hands.
Tyler notices.
“What?”
George doesn’t answer.
He lowers the net onto the deck.
The smell reaches them.
Tyler’s face changes immediately.
He covers his nose.
“What is that?”
He steps backward.
“What is that smell?”
He moves farther away from the net, coughing.
George doesn’t move.
He stares.
The ocean breeze pushes against him, but he doesn’t feel it.
His mind races ahead of him.
No.
Not again.
Tyler slowly looks back.
“George?”
Nothing.
“George.”
Still nothing.
Tyler swallows.
“Are you gonna put it back?”
George doesn’t hear him.
He takes one step closer.
Then another.
Tyler watches him.
The fear on George’s face is worse than anything in the net.
Tyler approaches carefully.
“George?”
He reaches down.
George suddenly looks up.
“Don’t.”
But Tyler is already there.
He pulls away the seaweed.
His breath disappears.
“There’s a girl.”
The words barely leave his mouth.
George moves closer.
Slowly.
Like he’s afraid any sudden movement will make this real.
He kneels beside the net.
His hands shake as he reaches in.
He gently turns her over.
The world seems to stop.
A teenage girl.
Her face is soft.
Too young.
Too still.
Her dark hair clings to her face, dripping seawater onto the wooden deck.
George reaches toward her.
Stops.
He hesitates like he is afraid touching her will make this real.
“Hello?”
The word leaves his mouth before he can stop it.
Nothing.
No response.
No movement.
He presses two fingers gently against her neck.
Searching.
Waiting.
His own heartbeat feels louder than the ocean.
Nothing.
Tyler watches him.
“George?”
George doesn’t answer.
He leans closer.
There is no breath.
No movement in her chest.
Her skin is cold beneath his hand.
But not like a body that has been gone for days.
Something about it feels wrong.
Impossible.
Like she has been asleep beneath the ocean instead of lost to it.
George pulls his hand back.
For a moment, he cannot tell himself what he is looking at.
A girl who survived?
Or a girl who didn’t?
For a moment, the ocean disappears.
The boat disappears.
Everything disappears.
George is somewhere else.
A year ago.
A missing poster.
A search party.
A sister who stopped calling.
A girl who never came home.
For a moment, the ocean disappears.
Tyler takes a step backward.
His eyes never leave her.
His face changes.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“No...”
George looks at him.
Tyler shakes his head.
“No.”
His voice cracks.
“George, I thought…”
He can’t finish.
He doesn’t have to.
George understands.
He thought they found Jasmine.
Tyler steps back, wiping his face.
George stays.
He reaches toward her.
Not out of curiosity.
Out of care.
He brushes the seaweed away from her shoulder.
Something catches the sunlight.
A strange reflection.
George pauses.
He pulls away more of the seaweed.
Underneath is something impossible.
Scales.
Not like a fish.
Not like anything he has ever seen.
They shimmer beneath the morning light.
Blue.
Purple.
Green.
A tail rests beneath the tangled net.
The girl does not move.
The ocean rocks beneath the boat.
A wave rises against the side and spills over the deck, washing seawater across her skin.
For a second—
George thinks he sees something.
A faint shimmer beneath her scales.
A flicker of color.
A movement.
Tiny.
Almost impossible.
He blinks.
Nothing.
The girl remains still.
Tyler looks at him.
“Did you see that?”
George doesn’t answer.
Because he doesn’t know.
And somehow that scares him more.
George stops breathing.
Tyler stares.
Neither of them moves.
The girl lies motionless between them.
A person.
A mystery.
Something that should not exist.
Tyler finally whispers:
“We’re seeing the same thing, right?”
George doesn’t look away.
His voice is barely audible.
“Yeah.”
The ocean rocks beneath them.
The world feels impossibly quiet.
George reaches into his pocket.
His hand trembles as he pulls out his phone.
He dials.
The screen reflects against his face.
Wild Oak Sheriff’s Department.
The call connects.
“Wild Oak Sheriff’s Office.”
George opens his mouth.
Nothing comes out.
He looks at the girl.
At the tail.
At the impossible thing the ocean has placed in his hands.
He swallows.
“I...”
His voice catches.
He takes another breath.
“I found a girl.”
He can’t say anything else.
Not yet.
He can’t say what she is.