Hard to tell. It hovered just under the surface, long and curved at both ends, dark and wet. In the next frame, it moved. It wasn’t just a trick of the camera. Catherine frowned. “What… is that?” John looked out toward the water.
For a second, all he saw was sunlight dancing on waves. Then something rose—a dark shape, slow and silent—before dipping back under. “There,” he whispered, pointing. “Near the sandbar.” A chill went through Catherine, and it wasn’t from the wind.