The next morning, once the sun had risen properly and the mist had started to lift off the river, Joaquim took the same route out again. He told himself he only wanted to prove that whatever he’d seen the night before had a simple explanation. A log. A branch.
Some kind of floating debris. Something ordinary that would make him feel stupid for panicking. But the moment he reached that same stretch of water, something felt wrong again. It was too still. Usually, that area of the river was full of small movement.
Tiny fish flickering near the surface. Insects skating across the water. Birds dipping low and then darting off into the trees. But now the whole place felt oddly quiet, as if the river itself had gone tense. Joaquim slowed the boat and looked around more carefully.
And that was when he noticed there were no fish at all.
