Page 72 of The Luna Duet


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Fucking hell.

I locked my knees and clutched the railing. Bending as much as I could over the top, I studied the undulating water below, trying to see what she had seen.

Slowly, a different world came into view.

Obscured and wavy but I made out images underwater. The dark spot that I assumed was the turtle and red flashing lines in the otherwise pristine blue that hinted at the net.

Four minutes.

My gaze landed on another shadow.

Long and fragile, swaying with whatever currents existed down there with a glint of yellow Lycra.

Loose and unmoving—

“NERI!” I pounded on the boat. I hit it so hard my hand throbbed. “NERIDA!”

The shadow didn’t react.

Didn’t stop swaying, red lines intersecting the whiteness of her legs.

Shit.

Shit!

Tearing back to the captain’s cabin, I ripped open the cabinet that held the speargun and diving knives.

Snatching the largest one, I shuddered as the blade felt familiar. How the handle reminded me of a different life, a different world.

Fisting the handle, I tore off my t-shirt, grabbed a snorkel mask, and ran back to where Neri had jumped.

Yanking the mask on, I didn’t think.

I hurled myself up the railing and plummeted over the side.

Water crashed over my head.

Salty and cooler than the Taylors’ pool and so, so terribly vast.

Terror latched around my heart.

The storm that always lurked in my mind roared in my ears.

My fingers clenched at the knife as I drowned beneath ghosts and screams.

But then, I looked below.

The mask offered a perfect view of a stunning world of coral, glittery fish, and rocks covered in starfishes and shells. And hovering in the middle, stuck between the surface and the depths was Neri.

Her hair clouded around her face, her arms loose and floating, her legs tangled in the net.

I swam.

All my fear of what I’d endured at the sea’s moods vanished.

Anger filled me.

Such fucking rage.

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