CHAPTER 5: No One on Deck Screamed First

The water was colder than panic.
It closed over Maren’s head, tore the breath from her, and swallowed every sound from the yacht. For one terrible second she could not tell which way was up. Leo’s small body kicked against her arms, alive, terrified, heavy with soaked clothing.
She kicked once. Then again.
Her heel struck nothing but darkness.
When they broke the surface, Leo coughed against her neck and clung so tightly his fingers hurt. Maren welcomed the pain. Pain meant he was still here.
Above them, the Asteria’s lights blazed against the night. Faces lined the rail in fragments: white shirts, open mouths, diamonds, hands doing nothing useful.
No one on deck screamed first.
That was what Maren noticed while fighting the waves. Not the cold. Not the salt in her mouth. The silence before the performance began.
Then Vivienne’s voice finally cut through the dark.
“Man overboard!”
Maren almost laughed, but seawater stole the sound.
She was not a man. She was not an accident. And Leo was not supposed to be a body counted after paperwork.
She pulled him higher against her shoulder and whispered into his wet hair, “Breathe with me.”