In the ever-churning tide of Home and Away, calm rarely lasts long. And in the weeks ahead, the storm clouds gather over Mali Hudson and the surf shop

he has poured his heart, soul, and savings into. What should have been a simple trip away to support family becomes the spark for a crisis that threatens not only

his livelihood, but also the fragile trust between friends who tried their best to hold the fort.

When Mali left Summer Bay to help his sister with childcare back home, he believed he was making a responsible, loving choice. The business would be fine, he told himself. After all, he had staff in place. New assistant Lacey Miller might have been green, but she was eager. And with a little help from those around her, what could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot, it turns out.

In Mali’s absence, small problems grew teeth. Lacey, quickly overwhelmed, leaned heavily on Theo Poulos to keep the surf lessons running. At first, it seemed like a harmless workaround. Theo was capable, popular, and more than willing to step in. When Mali eventually learned what had been happening, he reluctantly gave the arrangement his blessing. The income from the lessons was vital, and if this kept the lights on, so be it.

But behind the scenes, the numbers were already telling a darker story.

Enter Abigail Fowler. Seeing the pressure mounting, she volunteered to help oversee the operation until Mali returned. She and Lacey formed an uneasy alliance, determined to steady the ship. Yet week after week, they watched the deficit deepen. Orders piled up. Customers grew impatient. Suppliers chased payments. The optimism they’d started with slowly eroded into dread.

Then came the twist that changed everything.

Theo, torn between loyalties and his own future, revealed he had turned down the opportunity to go back to the garage because he felt committed to the board shop. For Lacey, the confession landed like a punch. She knew how much the other job meant to him. Keeping him tied to a sinking venture felt wrong. So, despite understanding exactly how much revenue his lessons generated, she encouraged Abigail to let him go.

It was a compassionate decision.

It was also a financial disaster.

With their biggest earner gone, refund requests began flooding in. Abigail felt the walls closing around her. Mackenzie Booth urged honesty—Mali deserved to know before the situation became impossible to fix. But fate intervened. Word came through that Mali was already on his way back to the Bay.

Panic set in.

When Mali finally walked through the farmhouse door, he was relaxed, upbeat, grateful. He reunited with friends, unaware that the dream he’d left behind was hanging by a thread. Abigail tried—she truly did—to find the right moment to confess. Yet each time she looked at his hopeful face, the words stuck in her throat.

By morning, Mali sensed something was off. Abigail admitted she had made the call to release Theo and insisted they needed to confront the accounts immediately. Still not grasping the magnitude of the damage, Mali remained determined. They would fix it. They always did.

At the shop, reality hit.

Unsatisfied students. A mountain of custom boards still unshaped. Stock shortages. Bills. Apologies waiting to be made. The crisis wasn’t one problem; it was fifty, all feeding into each other. Even Mali’s optimism began to flicker.

Abigail, thinking practically, delivered the harshest solution of all: Lacey had to be fired. The business needed someone experienced, someone who could teach, manage, and keep operations tight. They did not have the luxury of sentiment.

But sentiment is exactly what Mali felt.

Letting someone go—especially someone who had tried, however imperfectly—went against every instinct he had. Gratitude, guilt, responsibility tangled together. How could he punish her for mistakes that, in many ways, were his own?

When Lacey arrived and thanked him for trusting her, the emotional stakes doubled. She spoke about teamwork, about relying on one another, unaware that her future was under debate. Abigail watched the interaction, torn between empathy and urgency. Delay could mean collapse.

Mali stood at a crossroads: act decisively and risk becoming the bad guy, or hesitate and risk losing everything.

In the end, he searched for a third path.

Instead of a dismissal, Mali offered a challenge. If Lacey committed to learning to surf—really learn—she could run lessons and shoulder proper responsibility in the store. If she stepped up, her job would be safe. It was a gamble on potential, loyalty, and the belief that people can rise when given the chance.

But hope is not a business strategy.

Can Lacey transform quickly enough? Can Mali juggle teaching, shaping, repairs, and damage control while mentoring her? Or has he just doubled down on the very impulse that led them here?

Summer Bay is about to find out.

Because in this town, survival isn’t just about catching the next wave. It’s about deciding who you trust to ride it with you—and what you’re willing to lose if they wipe out.

And for Mali Hudson, the hardest call may still be ahead.