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on Channel Two…” As the voice of Channel Two reporter Mark Larson floated to the lanai from the television in the living room, Darby understood.
    â€œI’ve got to watch,” Darby said, and followed after Aunty Cathy and Megan as they left the lanai.
    Megan sprawled on the floor in front of the television. Aunty Cathy sat on the couch without crowding Cade.
    Not that he would have noticed, Darby thought. Sitting there with his gaze fixed on the television screen, hands resting on his knees, Cade looked hypnotized.
    Darby stopped behind Jonah’s big chair. After one glimpse of the news report, she didn’t want to go closer.
    She’d forgotten how awful the island had looked just after the tsunami. Shooting from the TV helicopter, the camera showed tobacco-brown water strewn with debris and dead animals.
    When reporter Mark Larson, wearing his trademark Hawaiian shirt, filled the screen, Darby let out the breath she’d been holding.
    â€œBy morning, the kai a Pele , Pele’s tide—traditionally a punishment from her sister the sea goddess, angry because Pele poured lava into her realm—had receded.” The reporter spoke in a storyteller’s voice as the camera scanned the dawn sky, then dropped to show the wet, huddled horses.
    â€œThe wild herd had been stranded for twenty-four hours. Although the tsunami took some of them, the horses on the spit of lava rock were also prey to rain, sharks, and floating debris. Surrounded by danger, the horses were not about to come ashore on their own. Finally, they were rescued by dedicated equestrian volunteers.”
    â€œHoku!”
    â€œDon’t tip me over, Granddaughter,” Jonah said when Darby bumped the back of his recliner at the sight of her horse on television.
    It was weird to see Cade, Kit, and herself riding three across. Reflections of Joker, Navigator, and Hoku showed on the wet sand.
    It was like a movie, except that she recalled images the camera didn’t show, like Kit tying down his Stetson with a stampede strap and Cade leaving behind his prized hala hat and green poncho, going barefoot in jeans and a white T-shirt into the wind and waves.
    The camera pulled back to show an earthquake-damaged house, a flooded taro field, plastic fence set up to funnel the horses to safety, and finally the red trucks with firefighters beside them, waiting.
    And then things really got weird. The view shifted to Mark Larson inside a helicopter. He shouted over the rotors as he pointed toward a trail of white spume on the water below.
    â€œAnd here comes another volunteer, there on the Jet Ski.” His voice deepened and took a reprimanding tone. “A misguided soul, to judge by our interview with the Animal Rescue’s expert. She indicated that the mechanical rescue of wild animals—wait, can you get that?” Mark Larson stopped his commentary to talk to the camera operator.
    Suddenly there was a shot of Manny steering at high speed toward Hoku.
    â€œViewers, I have an unconfirmed report that the man on the Jet Ski is Manuel Billfish and the girl on horseback is Darby Kealoha, Lehua High School student and great-niece to ‘Babe’ Kealoha Borden.
    â€œMr. Billfish was ordered not to take a mechanized vehicle into the water during the rescue attempt. Harassment of a federally protected species, like the wild horse, is a felony.”
    For a moment the sound grew too scratchy to understand, and even though she knew how this story ended, the sight of her frightened horse made Darby’s fingernails sink into the fabric of Jonah’s chair.
    Seeing the events again, Darby rememberedhating Manny. Her brave horse had tolerated strange weather, sounds, and smells, and then Manny had zoomed at her with a snarling metal beast.
    Darby didn’t remember Hoku rearing. She didn’t remember falling.
    â€œHold a good thought for that young lady under the storm waters,” Mark Larson said