The sky was orange-gray, the sun a pale disk smothered in ash. Maya stared out the window of their small coastal home, watching the waves claw closer to the dunes. The wind howled, rattling the loose boards of the house, but it was the silence inside that pressed hardest on her chest.

“We need to leave,” her brother Kiran said, his voice steady but tight. He stood by the front door with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, ready to go. He’d been ready for weeks.

Dad didn’t look up from the kitchen table. His rough hands cradled a chipped coffee mug, the same one he used every morning. “This house is all we have left,” he muttered. “If we leave, where do we go?”

“The shelters are overcrowded,” Mom added, not looking at anyone. Her gaze was fixed on the photo of the family fishing trip that hung crookedly on the wall. “What if there’s no room for us?”

Kiran ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “And what if the next storm wipes this place out? What then, huh? Do we just sit here and wait to drown?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and bitter. Maya shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to leave either, but the waterline creeping closer each year told her Kiran wasn’t wrong. Last winter, the flood reached the porch. By spring, it had seeped into the basement.

Dad slammed his mug on the table, the sound cracking like thunder. “This house is your mother’s home. My home. Your grandfather’s home. You think we can just walk away from that?”

“None of that matters if we’re dead!” Kiran shouted, his voice breaking.

Maya couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop!” she cried, standing abruptly. “I don’t want to fight! I just… I just want us to be safe.”

Her voice wavered, and for a moment, the room fell silent again, save for the wind outside.

Finally, Mom stood, her shoulders heavy with a weight she couldn’t carry anymore. “Pack your things,” she said quietly.

Dad’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists, but he said nothing.

As Maya and Kiran began to gather what they could, she caught her father staring out the window. His eyes were fixed on the waves, now just feet from the dunes. She wondered if he was saying goodbye—not just to the house, but to the life they once had.

When they finally stepped out into the storm, Maya felt the first drops of rain hit her face. She didn’t know where they were going, but she held her brother’s hand tightly, hoping it was somewhere the tide couldn’t reach.