Page 7 of Catching Trouble

I didn’t need any more walking through the door.

3

CHLOE

Iplunged into the crystal-clear blue. It’d been a while since I’d touched salt water. How had I stayed away so long?

Diving under, I stretched my body after the cramped bus ride. Shards of sunbeam pierced the surface like golden spears. A school of fish hovered in the blue below, and I chased them, giggling bubbles that tickled my nose. Of course, they weren’t dumb. They darted away whenever I got nearby.

Grinning, I gave up, kicking towards a clump of rocks coated in deep green seaweed. It fanned out in the water like a mermaid needing a hairbrush.

A shadow passed above, chilling the water. I looked up at the surface. Nothing. No clouds. No giant seagulls. Short of a visit from Jaws, what else could block the sun?A sudden image of big, white teeth and soulless eyes whipped through my mind and my heartbeat raced. That was crazy. Great whites preferred colder water, right?

I cupped my hands against the current, sculling in place, then sent a quick prayer of thanks to St. Adjutor, the patron saint of swimmers, for my trumpet-trained lungs. Who knewyears of puffing out “Hot Cross Buns” would come in handy? I could wait out the gloom.

And just as quickly as the sun blotted out, the brightness returned. I scanned the distant seabed, shoulders loosening as the murky outlines sharpened. Time to head back to the surface. But then, as if guided by Ariel herself, the seaweed parted—revealing a stunning flash of colour nestled between two rocks.

I squinted through my goggles.

Vivid aquamarine.

Unless someone dropped a giant gemstone in the bay, it had to be sea glass.

Ignoring my lungs’ screams of protest, I kicked down, only I didn’t have the energy or the breath to reach the treasure. With an eye roll, I glided back to the surface. I’d grab a chest full of fresh air, then return for another attempt. I could already imagine the sharp sweetness of oxygen filling my lungs.

Stretching my arms above my head, I reached for the light. But a sharp tug yanked me back.

Panic jolted through me like an electric current. Maybe myJawsnightmare wasn’t crazy after all. I kicked harder, but something closed around my leg.

Twisting, I expected to see seaweed snagging me. Instead, my arm caught in something finer, almost invisible. Thin, scratchy threads tightened around me with every movement.

It took a moment to register. A fishing net?

I thrashed, desperate to free myself. But the more I fought, the more I tangled. The mesh pulled against my limbs, wrapping, constricting, turning the beautiful water into a silent, suffocating trap.

My lungs ached and fire coiled in my chest as I fought the instinct to breathe. The surface was right there—golden light rippling above me—but it was just out of reach.

As I turned in the water, my pulse surged. I kicked evenharder, but when my foot slipped through another hole, the net pulled tighter, dragging me down.

No. No, no, no?—

The moment stretched to a lifetime, my pulse frantically hammering in my ears. Then a shift. A sudden tug, only this time, upwards.

The net jerked, sending bubbles rushing past my ears, and I broke the surface, gasping, choking on air.

The world spun as I looked up, blinking through my goggles against the glare. A shadow loomed above, and then—rough, warm hands closed around mine. With a grunt, they hauled me free like I weighed nothing. And seconds later, I landed in a boat, thudding onto the slippery wooden deck.

Coughing and sputtering, I finally found my breath, and then promptly lost it again, when a deep, gravelly voice met my ears.

“Tu vas bien?”

I froze, then shook my head. I hated not being able to see him—whoeverhewas—but my lenses were fogged with pale grey mist. I reached up to clear them, only to catch my fingers in the net again, dragging it over me like a soggy blanket.

I kicked, twisted—flailed—only managing to tangle myself further.

Then the light dimmed. “Stop,” the man murmured, pressing my arms gently to my sides.

With a grunt, he worked the net free, tugging it off in a few quick pulls. Then, with surprising care, he slid my goggles to rest on the top of my head.