The next morning, Mira felt the weight of the events from the night before pressing heavily on her shoulders. She couldn't shake the image of the figure, the feel of the stone in her hand, the shock of electricity that had surged through her when she touched the water. The sea was alive in a way she couldn't explain, and it was calling to her. But why?
Ethel said nothing about the previous night, but Mira could see the worry in her aunt's eyes. She had always been a quiet, reserved person, but now there was a tension in the air that Mira couldn't ignore. Ethel had noticed something. She always did.
As the day wore on, Mira tried to act normal, but her mind was consumed by the ocean. She spent the afternoon walking along the shore, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the figure or any sign that the sea was about to reveal more of its secrets. But there was nothing—only the rhythmic crash of the waves, the salt in the air, and the pull that refused to let her go.
The island was quiet. Mira had always thought of it as isolated, cut off from the rest of the world. But now, it felt different. The silence seemed oppressive, as if something was waiting to happen. Mira's footsteps echoed in the empty landscape, and she wondered if she was the only one who felt the strange energy that had taken hold of the island.
As the sun began to set, Mira saw something that made her heart race. A boat, small and battered, appeared on the horizon. It was drifting toward the shore, its sail torn and its wooden hull weathered by the ocean's relentless pounding. Mira's first instinct was to run toward it, to see who was aboard, but then she stopped herself. Who would be out here in the middle of nowhere?
The boat grew closer, and Mira could see a figure aboard, but they were too far away for her to make out any details. The boat drifted slowly, almost as if it were caught in the current. Mira couldn't take her eyes off it. Something about this felt important, like the answers she was seeking were about to come.
As the boat neared the shore, the figure at the helm stood up, shaky on his feet, and Mira's heart skipped a beat. It was a man, ragged and exhausted. His clothes were torn, and he looked like he had been at sea for far too long.
The boat crept closer, and Mira waited, her breath held. She didn't know who this man was, but she felt a strange connection to him. The sea had brought him here, just as it had brought her.