Bay of Sighs by Nora Roberts

deck, Riley hauled on her tanks.
    Content, Annika swam around the boat, under it, careful to keep in sight, to stay aware, but basking in the feel of home.
    When she circled again, she saw Sawyer. He pointed to his camera, so she posed, turning upside down as if doing a handstand.
    She felt Sasha enter the water, then Bran. Moments later, Riley and Doyle. At Bran’s signal, she flipped around, swam ahead.
    But not fast, she reminded herself, pacing herself with Sawyer, tuning herself to the others as she would to a school of fish or others like her. A knowing.
    Fish swam by without a thought for them. She felt the slow pulse of a starfish that slept on a rock, heard the quiet fanning of sea grasses.
    She felt Sawyer’s heartbeat—not so slow as the starfish, but steady and calm. His movements, and the others, came to her like whispers.
    Deeper yet, she saw the mouth, gestured, but realized the others couldn’t see it as she did. So she gestured again, continued to go down. She waited until the others were ready before sliding into the opening.
    Fearless, Sawyer thought. In the water, she was fearless. And impossibly graceful. She moved through the narrow channel like the water itself, in a flow. The walls narrowed, barely wide enough for a man to pass, and the light went murky. In that narrow space, in that murky light, she turned, swimming backward. Though he couldn’t see her face, he knew she smiled, probably counted heads before she turned again, continued on.
    He saw an eel curled along a crevice in the rock, and hoped it stayed where it was. He wasn’t fond of anything resembling snakes.
    The walls widened, then opened into the canyon. There the light shifted, just enough. He could see, high above, openings in the cliff that let the light leak through.
    They spread out, two by two, to search. More, he thought, hoping Sasha might sense something, as she had with the Fire Star. He looked for anything unusual: a formation of rock, a change in the water, a flicker of light.
    He nearly panicked when he lost sight of Annika, circled fast. Hepulled out his knife, started to rap the hilt against rock to draw the attention of the others. Then saw her rising up from the dark below.
    She took his hands quickly, squeezed them, released them to rub hers on his cheeks.
    Doyle signaled time. Annika took Sawyer’s hand again, tugged him toward the channel, then slipped into it ahead of him.
    By the time he hauled himself onto the boat, she’d pulled off her mask. “Your heart beat so fast!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIn the canyon, at the end, it beat.” She slapped her hand rapidly on her own heart. “Why?”
    â€œI couldn’t find you.”
    â€œI was right under you. Just deeper, to look. I could always see you.”
    â€œI couldn’t see you. We couldn’t see you,” he added.
    â€œOh.” She unhooked her tank. “I forgot. I forgot you can’t see the way I do in the water. I’m sorry.”
    â€œSorry for what?” Riley pulled herself on board.
    â€œI went deeper, and didn’t stay in sight. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I could see all of you, but went beyond what you can see in the water. I made Sawyer’s heart beat fast.”
    Riley smiled over Annika’s shoulder as she helped Annika take off the tanks. “I bet it’s not the first time.”
    â€œFunny. How do you know my heart beat fast when you were deeper and out of sight?”
    â€œI can feel it. In the water, I can . . . It’s not feel like I can feel your hand,” she said, taking his. “But I can feel it.”
    â€œInteresting.” Glancing at her, Bran threw open the cooler. “You can feel heartbeats of living things when you’re in the water?”
    â€œYes. Or is
sense
the better word? Know?”
    â€œAnd you can see much farther than we can,” Bran continued.
    â€œI forgot that. I could