The Palm Reader's Verdict

The water lapped against the pilings beneath the restaurant, a rhythmic reminder that Maya and David were supposed to be happy. They were in paradise, after all. But David had spent the entire morning on his phone, responding to emails that couldn't possibly be urgent, while Maya picked at her breakfast, the **orange** juice growing warm in the glass.

"We should do something," she said, not meeting his eyes. "This was supposed to be us reconnecting."

David sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken frustration. "I know. I'm sorry. Work has been—"

"A **zombie** apocalypse," she finished for him. "I know. You've been saying that for three years."

The word hung between them. That's what they'd become, really—two people shambling through their marriage, surviving instead of living, consuming what was put in front of them without tasting it.

Later that afternoon, Maya found herself alone on the beach, drawn to the colorful tent near the boardwalk. An elderly woman sat inside, her face a map of deep wrinkles, and before Maya could decide against it, she was extending her hand.

The woman took Maya's **palm** in her own dry, papery one, tracing the lines with a fingernail that had seen better days.

"You're waiting," the woman said softly. "For someone to wake up. But the dead don't always rise, child."

Maya pulled her hand back as if burned. "That's not—"

"The choice is yours," the woman continued, her eyes knowing. "Stay with your zombie, or walk into the water and learn to swim again."

That evening, Maya watched David from their hotel balcony as he stood at the railing, staring out at the dark ocean. He turned, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—fear, maybe. Or recognition.

"I talked to work," he said quietly. "I'm taking a leave of absence."

The water kept moving below them, indifferent and endless. Maya didn't know if it was enough, if either of them could truly come back to life. But as David crossed the balcony and took her hand—really took it, with intention—she thought maybe, just maybe, they could try.