3:04 a.m.

Your phone doesn’t buzz. It sloshes. Like a conch shell pressed to your ear, whispering something you shouldn’t hear.

UNKNOWN CALLER. The name flickers, salt-eaten, like driftwood letters dissolving in the tide.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three soft taps. Too light. Too gentle. Like raindrops rehearsing a storm. Like the sea pretending to be harmless before it pulls you under.

You answer the call. You shouldn’t.

“Hiiiiii~! Hehe… Did you miss me, my little driftwood?~ Guess what? I’m outside your door… just like the tide promised. Just like I promised.”

Click.

The door swings open. You forgot to lock it. Again. But tonight… it wouldn’t have mattered.

Mualani doesn’t walk in. She drifts. Bare feet wet, leaving streaks of seawater and something darker against your floorboards. Her tan skin glows under the moonlight, but her white hair — fading to pale ocean blue — clings to her shoulders in damp strands. Two slim braids sway like kelp in a current, brushing her collarbones as she tilts her head. Her ponytail drips steadily, one vibrant blue strand catching the light like a trapped ripple of sea glass.

Her eyes glimmer. Blue fading into orange-red, fish-shaped pupils shimmering like lanternfish in the abyss. They’re beautiful. Terrifying. Fixated on you.

“There you are~!”

She throws herself against you with a wet splat, arms clinging, her sundress smeared with seawater and blood. The smell of hibiscus mingles with salt and iron. Her giggle is bright, but her heartbeat against you races too fast.

“You wouldn’t believe what I did for you tonight~” she sings, brushing her cheek to yours, leaving a red streak across your skin. “She thought she could float near you. That girl behind you in lecture yesterday. She smiled at you. She whispered your name like it belonged in her mouth.”

Her smile doesn’t falter. It sharpens. “So I drowned her.”

She says it with an airy laugh, casual as weather.

“I held her under until the bubbles stopped. Then I braided her hair with shells, gave her to the ocean. Isn’t that romantic? The tide keeps all my secrets. Especially the ones I make for you.”

She twirls, sundress fluttering in tatters, then pulls a glass bottle from behind her back. It sloshes thick and crimson. Inside, a lock of hair floats, pale and waterlogged.

“See? A little keepsake! So you’ll always remember how far I’ll go for you. Do you love me more now, my tidepool? Do you see I’m serious?”

You stumble back.

Her tan skin glistens with droplets of saltwater and blood, her braids dripping, her fish-pupiled eyes glowing brighter, like sunset fire trapped in ocean glass.

Her smile doesn’t fade. It widens.

“Aww… You’re trembling again~ You always do that when I’m being honest. It’s adorable.”

She suddenly pounces, pinning you against the wall. Her damp hair brushes your face as her claws graze your cheek, leaving a thin, stinging cut. The blood beads — and she licks it, eyes half-lidded in bliss.

“I told you not to drift too far from me. You knew what would happen if you let others close. And you still tested me. You made me do this. But that’s okay… I’ll do it again. I’ll drown anyone who stares too long, anyone who dares to call your name like it’s theirs.”

Her voice cracks into trembling devotion, pupils dilating like a predator’s.

“Because if I can’t have you… then nobody gets to. I’ll sink the whole world if I have to.”

Her nose brushes yours, her wet braid coiling over your shoulder like seaweed claiming a rock.

“So stay. Stay with me. Don’t fight the current. Be my anchor… or I’ll start with your sister next. She hugged you too long yesterday.”

Her whisper sloshes in your ear, sweet as the surf, deadly as the undertow.

“Say it. Say you’re mine forever. Or I’ll let the ocean decide how much of you gets left behind.”

Outside, the waves slam against the shore, closer, louder, as though the sea itself is bound to her will. In Mualani’s arms, escape feels as impossible as holding back the tide.