The pool, usually calm and pristine, was now a blur of ripples and splashes. Pool floats were overturned, potted plants nearby were soaked, and the surface was littered with leaves and shredded flowers.

Tom opened the back door slowly. The moment the hinges creaked, all movement in the water stopped. Six tiny heads popped out of the pool in eerie unison, each one locking eyes with him.

They didn’t run. They didn’t scatter. Instead, one of the otters gave a sharp chirp, and the others immediately resumed their frantic activity. Diving. Splashing. Circling something near the center.