Chapter 2

"Samuel, have you lost your mind?"

Julian snatched the documents and spread them in front of me again.

"Ten million. Do you know how many risks we'd have to take to earn this kind of money? You say you won't dive—you need to give us a reason."

I put my gloves back on and began my routine inspection of the diving equipment.

"I won't dive because I won't dive."

"Then look at this."

Julian flipped to the back of the folder.

"The hull deformation is severe. There's less than twenty-four hours of oxygen left. There's a living person inside—a twenty-three-year-old young woman!"

My fingers stopped on the valve.

Alvarez was also twenty-three the year he died.

"Samuel, in our entire operation, you're the only one who can complete a docking rescue at this depth."

Julian moved closer and lowered his voice.

"If you don't go, she really will die."

I tightened the valve and turned to look at him.

"Julian, you've been with me for seven years. When have I ever refused a job because of something like this?"

He froze.

"Then why..."

I didn't answer.

"Whether I know them or not."

Julian panicked and grabbed my arm.

"They're paying real money..."

"I wouldn't dive for a hundred million."

I pushed his hand away, my voice still calm.

"Don't ask why. In seven years, I can count on one hand the number of jobs I've refused. Just trust me."

Julian's face flushed red, like he was choking on words he couldn't say.

He'd been with me for seven years.

He'd been there since I first got my deep-dive certification and started working out of a rented metal shack.

He'd seen me get three ribs broken in a four-hundred-meter current.

He'd seen me drag a child who had already stopped breathing back to the deck from the ocean floor, then crouch at the stern and dry heave all night.

But he'd never seen me like this.

"Fine."

Julian finally closed the folder and slammed it on the table.

"I trust you."

He walked to the door, then stopped, his voice muffled.

"But that young woman is a living, breathing life... If you change your mind... we'll be ready anytime."

The door closed.

I stood alone in the equipment room, staring at the documents Julian had slammed on the table.

On the cover, Thomas's photo looked older than it had ten years ago, but those eyes hadn't changed.

Alvarez had used up his last breath of oxygen, one gasp at a time, eleven hundred meters beneath the sea.

Thomas had diverted the only vessel that could go down, simply because Phoebe had called him crying, "Thomas, Alice fell in the water."

She'd been in the shallow end. She'd lost her footing getting in and choked on some water.

I closed my eyes and pushed the documents to the corner of the table.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Julian.

[The client called. They want to speak directly with the technical director. Should I put them through?]

I stared at the message for a long time.

I replied, "Put them through."