The sea made more sense to me than people did.
Waves were honest—they rose, crashed, disappeared.
People hid things in smiles.
Maybe that's why I liked the ocean.
"Come fast!" Maya shouted, sprinting ahead with a chips packet. "Before Priya eats everything!"
I walked slower, adjusting my sunglasses. The sunlight glittered on the water like scattered diamonds. Vaishali walked beside me humming some tune—she always hummed when she felt happy.
Sometimes, I envied how easily she trusted the world.
We found a flat rock and spread the picnic mat. Priya opened her tiffins with the pride of a mother feeding her children.
"Share properly!" she warned Maya, who already had chocolate cake on her face.
I laughed.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Four girls.
Sand in our toes.
Salt in our hair.
Not a worry in sight.
But normal doesn't last with me.
Because my eyes never stop noticing… everything.
As the others joked, my gaze drifted to the far rocks—
Three boys stood there. Half-hidden.
One of them made my heart thud painfully.
Arun.
Arjun's distant cousin.
The one who always acted like the world owed him something.
He wasn't misbehaving. Not openly.
But his shoulders were stiff.
Eyes restless.
Scanning.
Not the sea.
Not the sky.
People.
Watchers.
Witnesses.
My stomach tightened.
I nudged Maya. "Look at them."
"Huh? Arun? So what? He's always here."
"No…" I whispered. "Look carefully."
Priya groaned. "Here we go. Sherlock Smithi is active again."
But Vaishali frowned.
"What are they doing?"
Finally.
Someone saw what I saw.
Arun bent slightly.
One of the men handed him a brown packet.
Small. Flat.
The kind of packet people exchange when they don't want anyone to ask questions.
"What the hell…" I murmured.
Maya whispered excitedly, "Should we go closer?"
"Not too close," I warned. "Pretend to take pictures."
We stood with our phones out—laughing, posing.
But my camera angled at the rocks.
Arun's gaze snapped toward us.
His face hardened.
Run, a small voice inside me whispered.
But my feet stayed still.
He started walking toward us.
So did the other two men.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Predatory.
Maya's breath hitched.
Priya stepped back.
Vaishali looked confused—she'd gone to get water minutes earlier. She had no idea.
Arun stopped in front of me.
"Enjoying the view?" he asked softly.
I forced a smile.
"We were just taking pic—"
He grabbed my wrist.
Hard.
Pain shot up my arm, but my face stayed blank.
"No pictures," he hissed.
"I didn't take any," I said evenly.
He leaned in, breath thick with anger.
"You girls didn't see anything today. You don't talk about anything today. You forget today even happened."
Then he shoved my hand away and walked off.
The moment he left, Maya sagged with relief. Priya sank onto the sand.
Vaishali returned, holding water bottles, confused by our pale faces.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
We didn't answer.
Not today.
Not when one wrong word could destroy everything.
I slipped my shaking hand into my pocket—
hiding the tremor, hiding the fear, hiding the truth:
We had crossed a line.
And the ocean wasn't calm anymore.