The boat had flipped. I was underwater.
I couldn’t swim. It was the strangest sensation, like panic in slow motion. I kicked and waved my hands, but the water was just that—water. Nothing to grab on to. My flailing limbs brushed against slippery moving objects. Whether I touched Edward or Montgomery or something else, I didn’t know. Something slid by me, a person or an animal, with an easy undulation, like a jellyfish, only the size of a man. Scaly tentacles—fingers almost—tangled between my kicking legs. My scream was silent in the water, an eruption of bubbles in the deep.
At last, my fingers latched on to something solid. Wooden. I pulled myself up, sputtering as I surfaced.
The world had grown dark and damp. I took a few hysterical breaths before realizing I was underneath the upside-down rowboat, with just enough room for my head.
I clutched the bench seat above me, filling my lungs with air. I stopped kicking, but the churning in the water didn’t stop. Dark shapes moved in the water’s deep, violently, maliciously.
One shape rose, coming up fast, and then its head broke the surface.
Edward.
I let out a shaking breath. “Here,” I said. “Hold on to the bench.” His chest was rising and falling fast. Blood from a gash on his forehead mixed with the seawater pouring down his face. “What happened?” I asked breathlessly. “Where’s Montgomery?”
“I don’t know.” He panted for air.
“What tipped us over?”
“Creatures,” he coughed. “Creatures in the water. A different kind of beast.”
“Water beasts. Oh God, Montgomery . . .” My voice echoed eerily with mounting panic. “Did you see him? What happened to him? He must be here, in the water. . . .”
Edward pinched the salt water out of his eyes. “He can swim. I’m sure he’s safe.”
Another undulating tentacle slid around my ankle, coiling like a snake. I kicked furiously, fighting the urge to scream. “You don’t know that! He could be hurt. He could be dead!” The darkness beneath the boat was terrible. Only muted sunlight filtered through the cracks in the boat, throwing dancing lines of light on the water, barely enough to see the blood trickling down Edward’s face.
“Don’t just hang there, Edward. Do something!”
“What do you want me to do?” he snapped, matching my tone. “I can’t swim. I don’t know where he is.”
“He could have drowned!”
“If I let go, I’ll drown too! Is that what you want? For me to drown trying to find him?” Salt water and blood mixed as he spit the words at me.
“He saved your life, Edward. Don’t you dare insinuate—”
“Don’t pretend this has anything to do with me! It’s never had anything to do with me. If it was me lost in the water, you’d never ask Montgomery to risk his life to find me.” But before I could sputter a response, he ducked under the boat’s rim, into the bright world outside the cavern of the upside-down boat.
I was alone. Water swirled between the folds of my dress, legs dangling helplessly like bait worms into the deep, cold part of the ocean. Montgomery might be down there, a watery corpse, just below my toes. Edward had every right to feel hurt, but hadn’t I also a right to care about Montgomery? He’d been with me forever, tucked into the hollows of my heart, lodged like a precious secret they’d have to cut out of me. And now he might be dead.
The worries churned inside me, trying to take shape, trying to find a voice. I squeezed my eyes, wanting to scream. To release the terrible knot of emotions that preyed on my soul.
I loved him.
The words came to me like a crashing wave, and I almost lost my grip. The sharp pain in my side loosened, turned into a low, constant throbbing instead. I’d fallen in love with Montgomery. Edward had read it in the worry in my face, and it had added yet another scar to his collection.
The water around my toes grew colder. I squeezed my eyes closed and ducked under the edge of the boat. I was underwater only the space of a breath, but it was long enough to make my lungs burn. And then my head broke the surface into the dazzling sunlight. I gasped for air. Edward guided my hands to the wooden rim of the boat. The world was shockingly bright. Seawater stung my eyes. I looked everywhere, trying to take in everything at once. The mangroves, the beach, the sea.
“He’s a good swimmer,” Edward said, a grudging softness in his voice. “He must have made it to shore. I’m sorry—for yelling.”
I had to blink to make sure I’d heard him correctly. The blood still trickled from the cut on his forehead, finding the path of his scar and following it to the sea. It would attract sharks, I realized. And anything else drawn to the smell of blood. “That’s all right,” I muttered.
“I’m going to try to flip it,” he said. He shoved the edge underwater, and the other side popped up with a rush of water that brought me to my senses. I helped him flip the boat until it slammed against the waves right side up.
Edward heaved himself into the boat, balancing carefully, and helped me in after. The feel of his cold hands made my insides tighten with guilt. All I could think about was another man, yet he was still helping me. Water poured down my face, out of my clothes, but the guilt didn’t drain away.
We paddled to the dock with our hands. Progress was painstakingly slow and full of worries that at any moment something might grab our exposed fingers. Each second that passed was another second Montgomery might be clawed, slashed, stabbed—assuming he hadn’t drowned. I tore at the water until at last the bow collided with the dock. Edward tied the lead rope to one of the piles, and we climbed out. I spun in a circle on the dock, scanning the water, the beach, the tangled line of trees.