“Hey! Excuse me!” she called out, her voice carrying over the sound of the waves. She hoped he would hear her, see them, and maybe offer some help. James followed behind, a mix of relief and anxiety in his chest at the sight of another person. The thought of not being alone in this, of having someone else who could help, brought a slight ease to his worry.
As Maria moved closer, the details of the old man became clearer—his weathered face told stories of many days under the sun, and his steady, unhurried pace spoke of someone who was no stranger to the beach’s rhythms. Would he be able to help them?