There was no hint of cruelty on Isabel’s face. That was the scariest thing of all. Just that same bright smile.

“Are you out of your mind?” Amy asked.

But Isabel didn’t seem crazy. Now Amy could see the ice under the warmth. “You don’t need a suit,” Isabel said. “It won’t matter in a few seconds anyway. Or minutes. The sharks might be feeding on the fish parts, but they’ll get to you eventually.” She kicked the bucket slightly with her bright white sneaker. “And I have plenty more. So. What do you say? Swim or talk?”

“I’m not jumping in that water,” Amy said, standing up and going to the opposite side of the boat.

“Well, if you won’t do it yourself, I can toss you in,” Isabel said. “Heave ho and all that. Martial arts training. Not a problem. Ian can help.”

“Mum?” Ian’s voice wobbled a bit.

She turned on him fiercely. Her voice was like a knife cutting glass. “Not Mum! How many times must I remind you? It makes me sound old!” She regained her composure and shrugged at Amy. “So, maybe my lazy coward of a son won’t give me a hand. But I don’t need one.”

She moved toward Amy. Amy backed away until she hit the rail. There was nowhere to go except the water.

“Little Amy and little Dan,” she said. “Who knew they would find a way to travel the world? Paris, Moscow, Venice, Seoul, Karachi. You sent the Lucian stronghold into a frenzy.”

Karachi? Amy thought through her panic. She and Dan hadn’t been to Karachi.

“Who helped you in Russia? How many clues have you found?” Isabel planted her muscled arms on the rail on either side of Amy. Up close, Amy could see the eerie tight perfection of her skin, the cruel glow in her dark golden eyes.

“Throw some more fish in the water,” Isabel barked to Ian.

Ian didn’t move.

“NOW!”

Ian rose and went toward the bucket. Amy’s heart banged against her chest, and she couldn’t seem to get a breath. Isabel was no longer pinning her against the rail, but she was close and ready to spring. Amy wondered what her chances were if she ran to the bow and jumped in. If she swam as fast as she could, how far could she make it before a shark chewed off a piece of her?

Isabel turned impatiently to watch Ian, and Amy saw something out of the corner of her eye. A spray of bright colors in the sky over Isabel’s shoulder. Orange, purple, pink — striped paragliders soaring over the beach.

The red-and-orange paraglider moved faster than the rest. It scudded across the sky, making a wide loop over the water. Amy realized that it was catching wind currents, heading closer and closer to the boat. She saw a pair of beefy white legs dangling. Meaty hands on the controls.

Hamilton!

Not by a flicker, not by a breath, did Amy indicate what she saw bearing down on them. Isabel urged Ian to hurry. The shark fins circled the boat.

Amy tensed as Hamilton caught a downdraft. He temporarily blocked out the sun. Isabel looked up, shading her eyes, as he zoomed down. “Come on!” he shouted to Amy. She leaped up on the cushioned bench and grabbed for his ankles.

“Woo-hoo!” Hamilton screamed as Amy tucked up her legs and held on.

Isabel screamed in fury and tried to grab Amy’s legs. Hamilton steered the paraglider away. It lurched to the left, and Isabel sprang and snatched at empty air. At the same time, Amy kicked savagely at the bucket. It tipped, spilling fish guts and blood over the deck. Isabel slipped and fell into it. Blood and guts stained her pristine sneakers and white pants. She screamed.

“Way to go, Amy!” Hamilton chortled.

But another gust of wind sent them scudding sideways, and Isabel managed to grab hold of Amy’s ankle with a bloody, fishy hand. Amy screamed and kicked.

“Whoa!” Hamilton shouted as the paraglider tilted.

Isabel slipped and fell back into the fish parts. Amy tucked up her legs again as they sailed over the boat railing. She was barely clearing the water now. Only inches below the surface she could see the dark mass of the shark.

“H-Hamilton …”

“Just hang on!” he shouted.

Amy’s sneaker skidded along the surface. The shark whipped around.

“HAMILTON!”

“Don’t worry! This baby has a motor!”

“Then USE IT!”

The motor kicked on. The paraglider rose inches above the water. They skimmed along, and it rose higher and higher. Soon they were soaring over the bay.

“Okay!” Hamilton yelled. “I think I have the hang of it now….”

Amy’s arms began to ache. “Hamilton, I can’t hold on!” she shouted. If she fell from this height, she didn’t think she would make it.

“No problemo, Ame-o,” Hamilton called. With his powerful legs, he simply bent his knees and pulled her up higher. “Grab on to the harness,” he told her. Amy grabbed the paraglider bar, and they lurched to the side. “Whoa, baby,” Hamilton said to the paraglider, correcting the movement.

“That was a little too close,” Hamilton said. “Sorry. This is my first time on one of these things.”

“And you flew down to rescue me? Weren’t you scared?”

“Holts don’t feel fear,” Hamilton said. “Haven’t you heard?”

The other paragliders were soaring toward them now. She saw Eisenhower’s red face. He was shouting something.

“What is your dad saying?” Amy asked.

“Don’t know,” Hamilton said. “I turned off my radio. He probably wants me to land so we can question you. He has no idea why you’re in Australia. It’s driving him bonkerinos. But you came through and gave me that clue. So I owe you.”

He soared to the far end of the beach, coming in near the shallow water. “There’s a road at the end of the beach,” he told her. “You can find your way back.”

“Looks like I owe you one now,” Amy said.

“You bet. I’ll collect one day. Don’t forget the Hammer. The Holt brigade is behind that hill, so they won’t see you if you run fast. Keep your knees bent when you jump and run like a hurricane wind. I’m going to take off again.”

He gently steered the paraglider down. “Now!” he yelled, and Amy let go.

She bent her knees as she hit the soft sand and took off. Hamilton rose, catching an updraft, and was soon sailing high above her.

Her legs were shaking, but she managed to run up to the road. She slowed to a walk when she knew she was safe. She tried not to think about the sharks and the bloody water.

Jamming her trembling hands into her pockets, she started to walk. Images bombarded her — fire, blood, sharks, Isabel’s lipsticked mouth like a scar. The sun around Isabel’s head had looked like fire….

Damp grass against her bare legs. Smoke. Fire. Her mother bending over her, her hands on Amy’s cheeks …

Amy shook her head hard. She didn’t have to remember! She didn’t want to! The images made her feel sick and dizzy and scared.

You don’t remember what you should never forget.

But what if she didn’t want to remember? What if she wanted to lock away a memory forever?