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I never wanted to be a fisherman. Da told me not to follow in his footsteps, and I agreed because I hated the sea. I hated how vast and empty it was, and how dangerous it could be.

After his death, I was even more determined to stay away from the water, until the day Luke persuaded me to come on a shift with him. I was so damn anxious, I threw up over the side of the boat several times.

Theo was right there with me. At fifteen, he was already certain he’d be a creel fisherman. His granda Malcolm had set up the business, and his ma and uncle both worked on creel boats. But then Ellen quit and took Theo to England, and Malcolm retired. It was just Luke left, and every time I came home for the holidays, he made me get on the boat with him. By the time I finished uni, I felt this was where I belonged.

When Theo came back to Skye at eighteen, he’d changed his mind about lobster fishing and asked Luke if he could dive instead. I’m pretty sure that was the first time I’d ever had a panic attack. Not that I knew what it was back then, but when Theo announced he was going to dive, my chest grew so tight I could barely breathe. That had been my da’s role. It was how he died, and Theo knew that. It’s been twelve years since he started, but I still hate it.

“Call the other boat, tell them to bring Theo in,” I tell Luke, my desperation seeping through.

“Aye, I’m doing it. Cut the rope and start the engine.”

I pull out my knife and sever the main line, abandoning the rest of our catch, then go to the helm. My hands shake as I turn the boat around and head back to the harbour.

“I can’t get through,” Luke says behind me, far too calmly.

I look up at the sky. The clouds open, and heavy rain falls onto the roof of the wheelhouse. “What do you mean you can’t get through?”

“Concentrate on getting us back, I’ll keep trying. I’m sure Chris has already called Theo up and they’ll be on their way back.”

That doesn’t settle my nerves at all. Chris, their skipper, is new. He may have experience back on the mainland, but the water’s rougher here on Skye—the weather can change in an instant, much like it has now. They don’t even have their usual crew, with their other diver, Harry, off sick and a temp standing in.

My stomach churns along with the waves as I push the throttle to speed up.

Luke still hasn’t managed to get hold of Theo’s boat by the time we get back to shore. I stand on the jetty, pacing back and forth, searching the horizon.

I feel like I’m going to be sick. I want to get back on the boat and go find them, but the sea has swelled significantly in the past half hour.

The dark sky suddenly flashes, lightning forking in the distance, followed by a clap of thunder that makes my heart seize in my chest.

“Luke!” I turn to him, looking for reassurance, and see he’s finally talking into the radio.

Why the hell aren’t they back?

My hand trembles as I run my fingers through my hair.

After a couple of minutes, Luke stands beside me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “The coastguard’s on their way, they’re sending a helicopter.”

We wait together in silence, staring out to sea. People from the village gather in the harbour, probably wondering what’s going on.

Eventually, the sound of the helicopter going over my head snaps me out of my daze.

“Chris, finally.” Luke steps away from me as he speaks into the radio. “What the hell is going on? Why aren’t you back at the harbour?”

The reply is too muffled for me to make out, but Luke’s response has a bite of agitation. “What do you mean the line broke? They don’t just break.”

I turn sharply, frowning at the radio in Luke’s hand.

The line broke?

“Is he back on board? … Is he conscious?” Luke asks.

I move closer so I can hear what Chris is saying: a whole lot of excuses about how the line might have caught on some rocks and snapped, and something about Theo using his pony cylinder to get back to the surface.

“What the hell is going on?” I growl, pointing at the radio. “Tell Chris to give a straight fucking answer! Why’s he not saying whether Theo’s conscious or not?” Breathing heavily, I ball my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms. My worst fears are coming to life, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Chris makes more excuses, refusing to answer what condition Theo is in.

“W-where is Teddy?”