The island had never been this quiet. No waves slamming against the rocks. No birds, no laughter from camp, no wind to stir the trees. Just stillness—unnatural and heavy.

You were sitting by the fire pit when Kayleigh approached, barefoot and tense. Her usual calm expression was shadowed by unease.

“Do you hear that?” she asked.

You frowned, listening. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” she said softly. “That’s the problem.”

You tilted your head, studying her. Kayleigh wasn’t the type to panic—not even when Amber threw one of her silent-power tantrums or when someone stormed off after another argument. But now, she looked… alert. Watchful.

She crossed her arms. “The tide’s wrong. It hasn’t come in for two days. The generators haven’t glitched once. Even the sky’s been the same shade since morning. Doesn’t that seem off to you?”