From THE DROWNINGAll my energy seems to have disappeared in the arctic cold of the water. All I can do is look at my brother. His blue-white feet, the deep red welt around one ankle. Scratches on his face and scrapes on his knuckles, mud under his nails. I can see it all, every detail.He's there and not there. Solid and mud-streaked and see-through. The water is flowing into him and through him and out of him, flooding out from his nose and mouth, oozing from the pores of his skin.The water on my shoulders is digging in now. Dropping like nails on the same sore patch of skin. I wish I'd never started this."You owe me, little brother."His mouth doesn't move, but it's his voice. Am I reading his thoughts? Is he reading mine?"Cee," he says. "Cee, you owe me." Excerpted from The Drowning by Rachel Ward All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.