My performance had stretched on for what felt like hours, though in reality, it had only been forty minutes. I had lost count of how many times I had dived into the water and kicked back up, my tail swishing with precision, my lungs burning as I held my breath for as long as I could. Each time I surfaced, it was like breaking through a wall of exhaustion, but I kept going. I had to.
I waved my tail one last time and started to rise for air when something unexpected happened. A hand—large, strong, and unyielding—plunged into the water and clamped around my arm like a vice.
I barely had time to register what was happening before I was yanked out of the water, the suddenness of it leaving me gasping. Water streamed down my face, stinging my eyes, and I could hardly see. My vision blur
