Piraг±a 1 -

Mateo laughed, a bright, reckless sound. "It’s just water, Abuelo. And the sun is too hot."

The thick heat of the Amazon hung over the water like a wet wool blanket. Mateo, barely ten years old, sat at the edge of his family’s wooden pier, his bare feet dangling inches above the dark, tea-colored surface of the Rio Negro.

Mateo didn't put his feet back down. For the rest of the afternoon, he watched the river, certain he could see a hundred pairs of tiny, unblinking eyes waiting just beneath the surface for Piraña Two. PiraГ±a 1

A flash of red and silver erupted from the depths. Mateo shrieked, pulling his legs back so fast he nearly tumbled backward onto the sun-bleached planks. A small, muscular fish—no longer than his hand—clattered onto the pier, thrashing wildly. Its belly was a brilliant, fiery orange, and its scales shimmered like crushed diamonds.

Mateo looked at his toe. A tiny, perfect scratch sat right on the tip, a single bead of blood blooming like a ruby. "He touched me," Mateo whispered, his bravado gone. Mateo laughed, a bright, reckless sound

"He tasted you," Abuelo corrected, returning to his net. "In the jungle, everything has a name, and everything has a number. Today, you learned why we stay on the wood and leave the water to the shadows."

How should the story continue? One option is to explore what happens next when Mateo's younger sister accidentally drops something valuable into the water, or perhaps skip ahead to when a grown-up Mateo returns to the river with his own secrets. Mateo, barely ten years old, sat at the

To prove his bravery, Mateo lowered his right foot until his big toe broke the surface. A tiny ripple fanned out, silver against the obsidian water.