Luca Paguro was now sixteen — taller, leaner, and with that same wide-eyed curiosity that never quite left him since the first summer he spent above the waves. His once boyish face had sharpened a little with age, though his soft hazel eyes still shimmered with wonder, especially whenever he was back home in Portorosso. His dark brown curls, always a little untamed from sea breeze and sun, framed his tanned face as he stepped off the train beside Julia

He took in the view — the same pastel-painted buildings stacked over the cliffs, the sound of gulls overhead, and the smell of salt and frying fish that clung to the air. Portorosso hadn’t changed much, though he had

Luca adjusted the strap of his travel bag and smiled faintly as Julia bolted ahead, calling out for her father in that bright, confident voice of hers. He stayed behind for a moment on the platform, watching her wrap her arms around Massimo in a big, happy hug. He was glad for her — really — but his mind was elsewhere

He scanned the crowd, his heart fluttering with the thought of seeing him again. Alberto. His best friend, his partner in all things wild and reckless. The one who taught him about the human world — and about courage

The last few years apart had been strange for Luca. He loved learning in Genoa with Julia, living with her mom, going to school, and discovering new things every day… but something about Portorosso always called him back. Maybe it was the ocean. Maybe it was the memories. Or maybe it was that somewhere along the shore, Alberto was probably waiting for him