The Last Treasure by Erika Marks Page B

blinked against a wall of sun. Sam stirred behind her, the weight of his arm still around her waist. She rolled over, meeting his bleary eyes and warm smile.
    â€œWe fell asleep,” she said.
    â€œSo we did.”
    He unearthed them from their cozy cocoon and disappeared into the bathroom. Liv sat up and rubbed her eyes, her whole body pinched and swollen from sleeping in her clothes. Daylight streaked across the bed, undulating like a school of spooked fish. The air was cold. They’d never closed the windows.
    The sound of water spraying from the bathroom faucet broke through the quiet.
    Then the sound of a door slammed unnecessarily hard down the hall.
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    T hey guzzled black coffee and piled into the truck. An old man with skin as sunbaked as the bill of his faded ball cap waved to them from the upper deck of a boat called the
Moonracer
.
    â€œFashionably late as always, kid.” Their captain navigated the ladder with the confidence and speed of someone three times younger, and gave Whit a hug and a hard slap on the back. “Good to see ya, Whitty.”
    Whit made the introductions. “Lou, this is Sam and Livy.”
    â€œAnd this is Andy, my mate.” Another man, younger by several decades, emerged from the compressor room and gave them a sharp nod before disappearing around the side. The smell of fuel and rust was everywhere. Liv felt foolish in her tidy clothes, her pale freckled skin.
    â€œYou kids are good luck,” Lou said. “Gonna be unseasonably warm today. At least on the boat.” He nodded to the shuttered hatch to the cabin. “You can change down there.”
    Whit motioned for Sam to follow him belowdecks.
    â€œWhat about you?” Lou’s crinkled face neared hers. Liv drew back.
    â€œShe’s staying topside,” Whit answered before she could. “So be nice to her, Lou.”
    While the men suited up, Liv stood on the deck and looked out, soaking in the sea the only way she could.
    â€œIt’s just swimming, Francis.”
    â€œIt’s not safe, Liza.”
    â€œYou can’t keep her out of the water completely.”
    â€œCan’t I?”
    â€œYou’re sure you’ll be okay up here by yourself?” Sam returned, his perfect body gleaming in his wet suit, slick as a seal. Behind him, Whit arrived, a few inches taller. Their collective beauty stole her breath.
    â€œShe’ll be fine,” Whit said, checking his straps. “Won’t you, Red?”
    Fine
.
    His smile gave her confidence—but it was fleeting.
    Take me with you,
she wanted to say.
Never mind my traitorous lungs—just don’t leave me behind.
    But the plea remained safe in her throat as she walked with them to the swim platform. She squinted against the sun so she could make sure to see them take their giant strides—as Sam had called their exaggerated steps off—to land in the water. They gave Lou the thumbs-up sign and Liv watched them sink, thinking how glorious it must be to escape to that kind of peace, envy rising in her like a fever, so quickly she swore she saw stars when she finally blinked.
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    T he wait up top was interminable.
    Liv remained at her post on the deck, staring at the place where Sam and Whit had descended, her heart racing with expectation. What if at that very moment they were swimming over the hull of the
Patriot
? Or maybe digging out something precious and small from the seafloor—a handmirror, a toothbrush? All the times Liv had stood in front of museum displays, studying artifacts stored behind glass, her fingers itching to touch. What if today there was no glass partition? What if today she got to hold something of Theodosia’s, something no one since Theodosia herself had touched? Maybe a collar button Theodosia had secured when the wind grew too harsh, or a bottle that had once held medicine she had taken to