Saltwater Riddles at Midnight

The bonfire crackled as Maya stood by the edge of the Pacific, waves lapping at her flip-flops. Her best friend Chloe had dragged her to this end-of-year party, but Maya felt like a total **zombie** after finals week. Three AP exams, two college apps, and zero sleep would do that to you.

"Maya! Come here, you have to see this!" Chloe grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward a cluster of seniors gathered around something—a girl with intense eyeliner and a tarot spread on a driftwood log. "This is Raven. She read my palm and literally predicted my whole summer."

Raven looked up, her expression unreadable. "Give me your hand."

Maya hesitated, then extended her **palm**. The girl traced the lines with surprisingly gentle fingers.

"You're carrying something," Raven said quietly. "Like a **sphinx** guarding its riddle—you're protecting something you haven't even admitted to yourself yet."

Maya's throat tightened. She'd been hiding something since February—how she felt whenever she saw Sarah in the hallway, that flutter in her chest she couldn't name. But no way this random senior could know that.

"What am I hiding?" Maya challenged.

Raven's lips curved. "That's the riddle, isn't it?" She poured a cup of ocean **water** into a bowl, then pulled a small paper boat from her pocket. "Fire and water, destruction and creation. You're at a crossroads."

She lit the paper boat on fire and set it floating on the water. The flames danced, reflecting in Maya's wide eyes.

"Your truth will emerge when you stop guarding it," Raven whispered as the boat burned down, leaving only ash on the water's surface.

The bell rang for the late bus home. Maya's heart raced as she spotted Sarah across the parking lot, laughing with friends. For the first time, she didn't look away.

"Hey Sarah!" Maya called out, walking toward her with steady steps. Whatever the riddle meant, she was done being a zombie to her own feelings.