Three days had passed since the accident.
The camp had returned to its usual rhythm—morning hikes, group games, and late-night bonfires—but beneath the laughter and chatter, there was a heaviness that everyone felt but no one talked about.
Jessica's absence hung in the air like a secret everyone knew but pretended to forget.
Naya had been cleared by the nurse the day before, her bruises fading but her spirit still weighed down. She'd avoided the beach ever since. The thought of the water sent a chill crawling up her spine.
Now, she sat under a tree near the edge of camp, notebook open but blank. Her pen hovered over the page, unmoving. Across the clearing, she could hear Nora laughing with a few girls by the snack tent, but even Nora seemed quieter these days.
Everywhere Naya went, she could feel his eyes.
Lucien.
He tried to give her space, but somehow their paths kept crossing—during breakfast, group activities, even when they were assigned to the same team for the scavenger challenge. He never said anything, just watched her from a distance with an unreadable expression.
When she caught him looking, she'd quickly turn away.
It wasn't anger anymore—it was something heavier. Something she couldn't name.
Later that afternoon, the camp leaders announced a beach cleanup as part of their final community activity. The group groaned but followed orders, grabbing trash bags and gloves.
Naya tried to stay toward the back, collecting bits of plastic near the rocks. She didn't realize Lucien had been assigned to the same section until she saw his shadow stretch beside hers.
She froze.
Lucien: "You shouldn't be near the water."
Naya didn't look up. "I can handle it."
Lucien's voice was low, careful. "You almost drowned, Naya."
Her grip on the trash bag tightened. "I remember."
A pause. Just the sound of waves rolling against the shore.
Lucien: "I'm sorry."
Naya blinked. "For what? Saving me?"
Lucien exhaled slowly. "For not stopping her sooner. For not—"
She cut him off. "You don't owe me anything, Lucien. You made that clear."
He flinched slightly at her tone. "You saw something you shouldn't have. But it wasn't what you think."
Naya finally turned to look at him, eyes sharp. "You don't get to decide what I saw."
For a moment, they just stared at each other—two storms colliding in silence. Then Naya turned and walked away, sand crunching beneath her shoes.
Lucien stood there for a long time, watching her back until she disappeared behind the rocks.
He'd never realized how heavy guilt could feel—like the tide pulling him under no matter how hard he tried to stay above it.