35

“Don’t forget to put the kill cord around your wrist,” reminded Ling as she zipped up her life jacket.

“I know,” snapped Chloe, straddling the Jet Ski. “I have ridden these things before.”

“Sorry—just going through the safety checks,” replied Ling in a defensive tone as she clambered aboard the other one. “Don’t want it running away from you.”

Chloe, her hair tied back in a ponytail, looked over her shoulder at her sister. “Sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Maybe later,” replied Emily with a strained smile.

“How about you, Connor?” asked Chloe. “You can ride with me if you want.”

Connor eyed the sleek Jet Ski. He was itching to try it, but he couldn’t leave his Principal. “I’d love to, but I’ll stick with Emily on the beach.”

“Your loss,” she sighed, and she pressed the Jet Ski’s ignition.

Over the thrum of the engine, they heard Amanda shout out, “Have fun!”

She waved cheerily to them, looking glamorous as ever in a straw sunhat, white midriff blouse and sarong. Mr. Sterling, his arm around her waist, raised a hand as the two of them headed to a local beach bar, where Dan had reserved a private table.

“Off go the lovebirds again,” Chloe muttered without bothering to wave back. Twisting the throttle, she sped off across the water. As Ling depressed her Jet Ski’s starter, there was a slight splutter from the exhaust, and then she raced off after her Principal.

After watching Chloe and Ling zip back and forth a couple of times, Connor suggested a stroll along the beach.

“Are you feeling any better now?” he asked Emily.

She glanced sideways at him. “You noticed, then.”

Connor nodded. “We’re briefed on things like that,” he said, not wishing to worry her about how obvious the panic attack had been.

Emily let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I suppose you are. Well, after what happened last year, I get very anxious in such places. My mind becomes foggy and I sort of . . . blank out.”

“Then why did you go in?”

Emily dug a toe into the sand. “To try to beat my fear.”

Connor smiled, his respect for her growing at such strength of character. “I can relate to that. I’ve been in a similar situation.”

Emily looked up in shock. “Really? When?”

“Just this year,” Connor admitted. “I can’t tell you any details, but I was held captive for a number of days.”

Emily studied his face, concern now etching her brow. “I had no idea. How are you coping?”

Connor shrugged. “Okay, I suppose. I didn’t really think about it much at the time. I was concentrating on protecting my Principal.”

Emily nodded. “I suppose that must have helped. To have someone else to focus on, I mean.” She looked off toward the horizon, a haunted look in her eyes. “I was completely alone.”

In the background, the Jet Skis buzzed like hornets above the gentle wash of the waves.

“That must have been hard for you,” said Connor.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion. “The isolation was torture. I’ve been beside my sister all my life. I was desperate for her company, for a friend, anyone . . .” She turned to look at him as if to say more, but the noise from the Jet Ski engines suddenly reached a whirring pitch. Then there was a huge BANG.

Connor spun around to see Ling tumbling head over heels through the air, her Jet Ski in flames. He was already running down the beach and through the waves by the time she splashed into the sea. Chloe zoomed over, picking up Connor halfway as he swam to Ling’s rescue.

Ling floated limp in the emerald-green waters. Her Jet Ski was melting into a blob of plastic and black smoke. Connor leaped from the back of Chloe’s craft and grabbed Ling by her life jacket.

“Ling, speak to me!”

Her eyes flickered, and she gradually focused on Connor’s face. “Wow . . . that was wild.”

“Are you hurt?” asked Connor.

Ling gazed drowsily down at herself, then at the surrounding water. “There’s . . . no blood . . . so I don’t think so.”

“What happened?” demanded Connor as he helped her onto Chloe’s Jet Ski.

“The throttle got stuck . . . then it just exploded.”