This book that promised me Outer Banks vibes with scuba-diving teens chasing treasure but ended up feeling more like an underwater The Descent with a side of teenage angst. I cracked open this thriller expecting sun-soaked drama, salty friendships, and a treasure hunt to make John B proud. Instead, I got a creepy supernatural cave that hogged the spotlight and left me wishing for more pogue-style shenanigans. It’s not a bad book, but it’s like ordering a piña colada and getting a seaweed smoothie.

First, the good stuff. Reiss knows her way around a reef. The scuba-diving scenes are so vivid I could practically feel the regulator in my mouth and the ocean’s weight pressing down. Phoebe “Phibs” Ray, our protagonist, is a dive-shop kid with a knack for finding trouble—er, I mean, ancient gold coins. Her crew, the Salt Squad, is a tight-knit gang of five high school grads who’ve gone viral for their Florida Keys treasure find. Now, they’re off to an Australian island for one last dive before college splits them up, and Phibs is stuck in her dead-end town taking care of her ailing grandmother. The setup is pure gold: remote atoll, rumored lost cave, and a group of friends. Reiss nails the sensory details—coral glittering like a disco ball, the eerie silence of the deep, the panic of checking your oxygen gauge. I was hooked, ready for a high-stakes treasure chase.

Then, the plot takes a hard left into supernatural territory, and I’m not sure I bought the ticket for this ride. Phibs and her crush, Gabe, discover a sea cave that’s less “pirate loot” and more “eldritch horror Airbnb.” After breathing some funky air pocket, they start… changing. Think oozing gashes, whispers in their heads, and a vibe that screams “we accidentally pissed off a sea demon.” I was hoping for more OBX-style treasure-hunting drama—rival crews, cryptic maps, maybe a shady boat captain with a gold tooth. Instead, the cave’s spooky mojo takes center stage, and the treasure hunt feels like an afterthought. It’s like Reiss started writing a Netflix banger but got sidetracked by a Stranger Things fanfic. I wanted pogues vs. kooks, not teens vs. sentient cave slime that leaves a slit on their bodies that kept conjuring alien vaginas in my minds eye (I’m sorry you had to read that).

The characters are a mixed bag. Phibs is a solid lead—gritty, loyal, and carrying the weight of her grandma’s dementia and a murky family history. Her voice feels real, like she could be your sarcastic cousin who’s always got a dive knife handy. Gabe, her love interest, is fine—broody, dark-skinned, and diver-hot—but their romance simmers without ever boiling over. The rest of the Salt Squad? Kinda flat. Lani’s the “wild one,” Isabel’s the “smart one,” and Will’s… there. They’re more archetypes than people, and I wanted more of their messy group dynamic to shine. There’s a dual timeline flashing back to their coin find six months ago, which adds some depth but also bogs down the pace. I kept thinking, “Less moping about the past, more hunting for that cave loot!”

The writing is where Reiss shines. Her prose is lush without being purple, painting the ocean as both gorgeous and terrifying. The pacing? Oof. The first half drags like a dive with a faulty fin, and the supernatural stuff feels rushed at the end, like Reiss realized she had 50 pages to wrap up the cave’s curse. And don’t get me started on the open ending—it’s less “intriguing cliffhanger” and more “wait, that’s it?” I flipped the last page expecting a bonus chapter, only to find acknowledgments. Rude.

There’s a moment where Phibs and Gabe are dodging treasure hunters who’ve taken the squad hostage, and I was SO CLOSE to cheering—finally, some high-stakes drama! But then the cave’s creepy whispers kicked in, and I deflated faster than a punctured floatie. I wanted more of that hostage chaos, maybe a boat chase or a betrayal to spice things up. Instead, the supernatural plot swallowed the action like a shark gulping a minnow.

It’s does have heart, killer diving scenes, and a promising debut vibe from Reiss, who clearly knows her stuff (she’s a real-life scuba diver, per the bio). But the supernatural cave hogged the spotlight, leaving the treasure-hunting drama I craved high and dry. If you’re into ocean horror with a side of teen feels, you’ll probably dig this. If, like me, you wanted Outer Banks with flippers, you might surface feeling a bit shortchanged. Here’s hoping Reiss’s next book leans harder into the treasure and less into the cursed-cave vibes. I’ll still dive into her future work—just maybe with a bigger oxygen tank.