“What’s wrong?” I ask, and my adrenaline rises in response to her sudden distress. She looks away from the newcomers and back to me. “Do you care if we leave?” I study her for a beat. It’s obvious she feels bad for asking. “No, that’s cool, are you okay?” “Yeah, I’ll explain in the car.” Mave hesitantly swims toward the shore, and I follow. Her demeanor visibly changes, she’s hardening and fortifying, but I don’t know why. Every ounce of laughter and happiness that was just in her eyes has been shuttered away, replaced by a cold ferocity.
