The boy finally lowered the binoculars and handed them back. “Just waves,” he said flatly. Then he went back to his phone, unimpressed. Arthur stood frozen, gripping the binoculars tightly. Slowly, he raised them to his own eyes and scanned the water again, jaw tightening.
The shapes were gone. Or submerged. Or drifted further. The surface was empty now. Nothing out of the ordinary. He stared at it anyway, breath shallow, eyes searching. But there was nothing. Just the ripple of the tide and the white glare of sunlight.