A Sea between Us

How can I leave Taire? She will never forgive me. The children won’t understand. What if I am arrested, or killed? What if it doesn’t work? What if saving myself puts my family in danger? What if I can’t save them?

The Atlantic Ocean is breathtaking at dawn. Sunlight glints across the water like a flame through antique glass. The horizon bends at the edges, calling into question the sanity of ancient poets, philosophers, and historians who claimed the earth was flat.

One look beyond those unending waters and it becomes dramatically clear: The earth is a perfect ball, floating weightlessly through the heavens.

We had been rowing nonstop for more than six hours since pushing off from the island. One of us would take a break every half hour while the other four rowed: one, two, three, four, pause. Our hands were swollen and bleeding. Our backs ached, and muscle cramps in our legs were already threatening the journey.

But then came daylight, and we finally felt safe. Maybe for the first time in our lives. We allowed ourselves to absorb the weight of our emotions, and one by one, fell asleep.

After what seemed like only a few moments, I was startled awake by a loud banging and then a splash. Leaning over the edge of the boat, I was met by an ominous shadow heading straight for us. A gray mass approaching like a rolling storm cloud beneath the surface.

Suddenly a fin broke the water.

Adapted from Chapters 1 and 2