Homu Ho’omalu leaned forward, staring through the helicopter’s windshield at Na’alele, rapidly approaching below. “Hurry,” he urged his son. “Ah, Pele,pôpilikia weliweli. Something terrible has happened.” They’d realized something was wrong when the phone silence from Na’alele outlasted the storm, but all of them had been in Honolulu for the presentation of one of Daniel’s sculptures to the state of Hawaii. They’d been at the airport when Daro had called, worried about Bella, who hadn’t called back and apparently had turned her phone off. Claire and Melia had both checked their messages and found Bella had texted them, as well, and they couldn’t reply. Frank wasn’t answering calls either. The party wasn’t due back until late afternoon, but Homu, David and Daniel had all felt the same gathering unease, and the decision was made to return to Nawea. They found Hilo waiting for them at the Kona airport, his usually merry face somber, sharing their premonition.
