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“It’s forgotten,” she said, looking up long enough to lock eyes.

For now.

At some point, she’d have to break up with him. She only got close enough to determine if he was the mole. Maybe she got her answer to that question today.

She did get clarity about something else. She liked Mark better.

With that, they began prepping their gear in tense silence, and the sharp edge of their argument had dulled. At least for now.

They descended into the tranquil, turquoise depths of the Caribbean. Ellie’s fins propelled her smoothly through the water. The day before had brushed off any rustiness from not having dived in a while, and she was looking forward to it now that she was in the water.

Above her, the morning sun sliced through the surface, creating a shifting mosaic of light on the sandy seafloor. Beside her, Luke glided effortlessly, his movements natural and unhurried.

She bit down on her regulator. The air hissed through it steadily and rhythmically, even as her thoughts whirred. The whole confrontation had left a bitter taste of regret in her mouth. It hadn’t gone as planned with either Matthew or Luke. She had expected to confront them like a prosecutor and break the case. Instead, they both had a plausible defense.

It left her confused. Both about the mission and her romantic feelings, which she was having a hard time separating. Luke apologized, and Matthew tried to repair the damage to their relationship. But trust didn’t come easily to her, especially when her life might depend on it.

Wasn’t that what made what she did so dangerous? A good lie always sounded like the truth. Could she trust either of them?

The nagging doubts remained, and Ellie resigned herself to the fact that until solved, the mission would always be hanging over her. The truth felt like a slippery fish just out of reach, darting away every time she thought she’d caught it.

The wreck loomed ahead, a shadowy silhouette wrapped in coral and seaweed demanding her attention. Luke signaled for her to follow him toward a cluster of fish darting around the hull, his expression a mix of awe and focus.

For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that this was a man she could at least have a good time with today, someone who shared her wonder at the world beneath the waves. Luke pointed excitedly toward a moray eel that peeked out from a crevice in the wreck’s hull.

Ellie nodded, her lips curved into a small smile behind her regulator. His enthusiasm seemed genuine, and for a brief moment, she wondered why she ever doubted him.

She gestured toward a narrow opening in the side of the wreck, inviting him to follow her inside. She must trust him somewhat since she gave him her back, and he could easily attack her from behind if that’s what he intended to do.

Together, they swam through the silent corridors of the sunken vessel, careful to avoid disturbing the silt that had settled over the years. Rays of sunlight streamed through cracks and broken windows, casting eerie, dreamlike patterns on the walls.

Ellie kept one eye out for that eel. Another potential predator she had to deal with.

Luke pointed out a small group of lionfish hovering near a broken beam, their spiny fins flaring like delicate fans. Ellie nodded, impressed by his sharp eye.

He went up and touched them. She kept her distance.

After a while, they began to run low on oxygen, so they made their way back toward the open water. Ellie’s gaze was drawn upward.

A flicker of movement above caught her attention.

A shadow passed over the sunlit surface.

Her stomach knotted as the shape solidified. It wasn’t a passing cloud or a school of fish; it was a boat. And it was right next to theirs.

Ellie froze, her breath quickened behind her regulator.

She reached out and grabbed Luke’s arm. Her fingers dug into his suit. He turned sharply. His brow furrowed as she pointed toward the surface. His eyes followed her signal and narrowed as he caught sight of the vessel.

Without hesitation, Ellie gestured toward the wreck, her movements sharp and decisive. She pointed to an overhang near the broken hull and signaled for them to take cover.

He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back toward the boat, but her doubts deepened. She yanked her arm free. Her glare pierced through the water between them. His brows knit together in confusion, but he didn’t stop prodding, gesturing urgently for her to follow him.

Ellie refused, so he stayed with her. Above, the muted hum of boat engines faded as the vessel came to a stop. Two dark figures leaned over the side, their movements deliberate, scanning the water.

She let out a muted scream when one of them slipped into the sea a couple minutes later with a shiny object gleaming in his hand.

A spear gun.