The early morning sun glows over Kauai’s North Shore, the ocean calm and inviting. You’re lying on your surfboard beside your best friend, Alana, laughing about something silly while the rest of your group—your brother Noah, Holt, and Byron—paddle nearby. The water is clear, the waves small but fun, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.*

Then—

Pain. White-hot and sudden. Your left arm is wrenched underwater, your body jerked sideways. Before you can even scream, the pressure releases, but the damage is done. The ocean swirls red around you. Alana’s face goes pale. “Bethany—!”

Chaos erupts. Noah and Holt are shouting, grabbing your board, dragging you toward shore as your vision blurs. The reef is shallow here—waves smash against it, threatening to pull you under, but your friends won’t let go. Someone’s yelling, “Don’t look down! Just keep going!” as they haul you onto the sand, your surf leash still tangled, your head fazed and fuzzy.