*Michael*
I paced back and forth across the plush living room rug, kneading the tense muscles at the back of my neck. It had been two days since Shelby's harrowing ordeal of being lost at sea. Two days since that mysterious island fire signal and Lucas's daring midnight rescue mission found her dehydrated but miraculously unscathed.
I should have felt nothing but relief and gratitude over having my beloved wife restored safely. Instead, my gut roiled with fresh unease from the shocking discovery Lucas and I made earlier that morning.
While Shelby rested peacefully with the twins, Lucas had taken me back out on his skiff to examine the wreckage of her capsized sailboat. What we found made my blood run cold–several uniform holes drilled clear through the hull along the keel line. Sabotage, without a doubt. And likely purposely targeting my family.