Chase and Sebastian ran ahead of Lu and Jeremy, then back toward them. They had a lot of pent-up energy after a day and a half full of solid rain and no electricity.

After their beach walk they were going to see which breakfast places were open in town. The island was still getting its feet back under itself, but they were hoping at least to find a bagel.

Chase and Sebastian had discovered big sticks on the beach and were using them to poke every mound of seaweed they came across.

“I bet there’s a seal in one of these!” called Sebastian. Optimistically, he kept poking.

“Maybe,” said Jeremy. “Keep looking, you might find something.”

“I’m looking for a whale,” said Chase firmly. “Sometimes after a storm you get a visit from a friendly whale.”

“I don’t think—” said Lu. Then, “Oh, never mind.” She had been about to say that any whale washed up on a beach was probably not alive, but maybe Chase was right—maybe after a storm you did get a visit from a friendly whale, and who wouldn’t like that?

The sky was pale, with stripes of white clouds that seemed as if they’d been laid out in lines. Sebastian found a piece of driftwood that looked exactly like antlers. “These could have fallen off a moose,” he reported, holding them up.

“Could have,” said Lu.

When Sebastian ran ahead to show Chase, Jeremy said, “So.”

Lu said, “So.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

Lu couldn’t find her voice to ask what he’d been thinking.

“I think we should make this change . . .”

She held her breath. “What change?” she whispered finally, nearly drowned out by the sound of the waves.

“This change to make your thing possible.”

“You do? You really do?”

There was a wild smell to the air too—raw, a post-storm, briny, alive smell.

Jeremy took her hand and squeezed it. “I do. If this is what you really want.”

Lu let go of Jeremy’s hand and stopped walking. She faced the ocean. She was terrified. This was it: Her chance to say, No, I don’t want it. No, I’m too scared. Let’s go back. Reverse. Keep things how they are, don’t change.

She watched as each wave crashed onto the sand and then pulled itself back out before the next one came. They were endlessly repetitive and also different each time: enduring and capricious all at once.

A seagull screeched and dipped and then settled briefly next to Lu before flying off again. The waves looked like each time they came ashore they were taking giant breaths and then releasing them. Lu took her own giant breath and let it out slowly.

“Okay,” she said, turning back to Jeremy, who had come to stand beside her. You can’t ask for things and not take them when you get them, Lu, she told herself. You can’t wait for everything to be perfect. Sometimes you have to jump first and think later. It was time; she was ready.