When I open my eyes again, I know I'm dreaming because a mermaid with blonde hair floats inches away with her back to me. There's no blood, no ugly wound on her back—she looks exactly how she did before the accident. My breath catches as my eyes flick from head to tail. "F-Faye?" Her name is barely more than a push of breath. I let out a shuddering exhale as I blink away tears. My hand is trembling as I reach for her.

Before my hand even makes contact, she turns around and meets my gaze. Her eyes are not foggy with pain like they were in those heart-stopping moments after her injury. They're bright with tears, but somehow, this is worse.

She gasps, the sound full of fear as she looks around. "Y-you can't be here, Drew! H-He'll find you! Y-you have to leave—g-get Mom and Dad and go to Aegrem, where you'll be s-safe."

She clutches my hands, looking up at me with such terror in her eyes that it steals the water from my lungs. There was only one he that could instill this much fear in her. I shake my head, a reassuring smile finding my lips despite the tears on my cheeks. "I won't let Zander hurt you, Faye. Or Mom or Dad."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, her expression goes blank, like someone flipped a switch. "He already did, Drew. He killed me." I blink, then blood suddenly splatters her dress, even more oozing from the ugly wound. When I look down at my hands, I have to bite back a cry at the blood that coats them.

"Why didn't you save me, Drew?" Her voice, no longer fearful or blank, is imploring—which is infinitely worse. "I was waiting for you to save me." Another blink, and we're back in the infirmary, surrounded by doctors and nurses, all talking over one another. I see Faye's limp, motionless body, and I can't contain the shudder that works its way through my body.

My voice is hoarse and broken when I respond. "I tried. I swear I tried, Faye." I swipe at my eyes before more tears can fall.

Yet another blink, and I'm watching Dr. Murphy break the news to our family. I see myself faltering and Jonah lunging to catch me; I see Mom go limp and hear her mournful cry. Dad pales, his body so still I realize he must be in shock. Breathing heavily, I shake my head as I back away. "Please," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Stop."

But it doesn't. If anything, it gets worse. On the fourth blink, I'm reliving myself at my lowest point—when I gave in to that grief and shame that had been plaguing me since Faye's death. I'm watching myself go through the various emotions I'd held in since the moment Dr. Murphy had broken the news.

I hear my voice, broken and sorrowful. "'I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. I promised Carla I would protect her. What good am I if I can't protect those I love?'"

"But you didn't, Drew," Faye says as if answering my question. "You didn't protect any of us." Before I can even open my mouth to ask what she means, I freeze as two more mermaids materialize beside her.

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't think. Carla, Ella, and Faye float directly across from me, expressions blank and eyes cold. When Ella and Faye speak in unison, I can't stop the cry that slips from my lips, filled with anguish and grief. "We were waiting for our big brother to save us. Why didn't you save us, Drew?"

Hearing those words from their lips hurts more than the sharpest dagger or the deadliest poison. Even though some voice in my head warns me that this is only a nightmare, I can't get myself to wake up. I can't take my eyes off Carla, but I also can't meet Ella's or Faye's stare. "I—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I would go back and save you if I could."

Steeling myself, I finally break Carla's gaze and lock eyes with Faye, the tears in my eyes spilling down my cheeks before I even open my mouth. The sight of her blood-stained and battered nearly makes me falter. I force myself to hold her gaze, knowing if I look at Ella or Carla, I'll completely unravel. My youngest sister, who always considered me her brave protector, stares at me with such cold emptiness that it knocks the water from my lungs.

Carla doesn't speak, but her gaze is as cold as the deepest part of the ocean. It's like someone reached inside my chest and tore out my heart. I close my eyes, trying to jolt myself awake and escape this nightmare. It was only when a garbled cry of pain slipped from my lips that I realized I had accidentally let my back brush against the pillow in my sleep.

As my vision slowly returned to normal, I looked at the unfamiliar walls and realized I was in the hospital. I flinched as I recalled the last time our family had been here. It seemed like a lifetime ago, even though only a few months had passed. Mom and Dad surrounded the bed with Jonah floating in front of a chair behind them. All three wore concerned expressions, and as I met Jonah's eyes, a tear slipped free and slid down my cheek.

At first, I couldn't remember what had happened or why I was there. Then, with the force and might of a jellyfish sting, memories slammed into me—one after another—until I couldn't keep up. Leaving the Bronze Mermaid and glimpsing a shock of dirty blond hair in the distance; the anger that had bubbled up inside me as I'd swum up to Zander; hearing the panicked, urgent voice in the distance calling my name; feeling Jonah's arms restraining me and hearing his deep voice in my ear.

Mom gently took my hand, her pale face streaked with tears. I felt a pang of guilt in my heart as I met her gaze. Her free hand trembling, she reached out and gently touched my face. I hated to drag them back into that grief and agony, but I knew I wouldn't be able to move past the nightmare until I spoke about it.

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out slowly before trying to speak. "I..." My voice broke, and I had to take another breath to steady it. "I saw them." Looking down at my hands, I rushed on, trying to get everything out before my throat became thick with tears. I didn't see Jonah falter at the mention of Faye, but I did hear the shaky gasp from Mom at the mention of Carla and Ella.

It wasn't until Dad opened his mouth that I realized I was trembling. Pain and grief filled his eyes, but his voice was composed when he spoke. "Bella and I talked to Dr. Murphy. You were lucky, Drew. So lucky. You would have suffered a worse fate—paralysis—had the injury occurred sooner." He squeezed his eyes shut and blew out a breath as the words left his mouth.

Mom squeezed my hand as a silent sob shuddered through her body. Though each word caused me physical pain to speak, I forced them out, my body shaking with the effort. "She was right. I didn't protect any of them. Not when it really mattered. Now they're all dead because of me." Until now, I hadn't dared voice that sentence for fear of the memories and feelings accompanying it.

Jonah put a trembling hand on my shoulder, and I swallowed hard. His eyes gleamed with tears, but he never wavered. "That wasn't them. Faye would never say that about you. I didn't know Carla or Ella, but from what you and Faye have told me about them, I'm assuming they wouldn't either." He took a deep breath as he finished speaking and exhaled slowly, rubbing a trembling hand over his face.

I studied him, then asked gently, "You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

He shook his head, eyes going unfocused as a memory seized him. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her lifeless body in that hospital bed." Almost unconsciously, I saw his hand rise to his chest to grip the ring that hung on a chain around his neck so tight his knuckles turned white. When he spoke again, his voice broke. "I can't go anywhere without memories of her ambushing me. Even the palace has become a constant reminder of her. Every room contains a piece of her."

Unbidden, the words spilled from my tongue, born of grief and rage and loss. "Ella was only six years old when our uncle murdered her. Even though he has since apologized, I can't help but feel anger and grief whenever our paths cross. Carla had done everything she could to keep us clothed and fed, even at the expense of herself. Even when times were tough, she never let us know. After she died, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to keep us safe or fed. But when Mom and Dad adopted us, I finally felt like I could let my guard down.

"I allowed myself to start feeling again, to remember what being happy felt like. I threw myself into cometball because it gave me a way to channel my grief, sadness, and loss when those memories would pop into my head without warning. I'll admit, I was jealous of Faye at first because she'd been too young to remember Carla or Ella's murder.

"But as I watched her grow up, I realized she had invisible scars she never let anyone else see. She closed herself off from everyone after everything with the Sirens. She was terrified of allowing herself to feel that safety and comfort only for it to be yanked out right from underneath her."

When Jonah spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, so quiet I had to lean in to hear him. "My history with the Sirens was—and still is—strained. But when I met Faye, it was right after Kailani and our messy split. I was hurting, broken, and adrift. The first time I locked eyes with your sister, I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time: a kindred spirit.

"She'd been through hell and back but still managed to wake up every day with a purpose. It helped me realize that what I'd had with Kailani wasn't romantic. Faye was the first mermaid with whom I'd allowed myself to be fully transparent. I loved her—more than I thought I could love anyone."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, tears forming in his eyes. I reached out and clasped his shoulder, the movement born of our shared grief and loss. When Dad spoke, we both jumped. I hadn't realized we'd been silent for so long. "You should get some sleep, Drew. If everything looks okay tomorrow, Dr. Murphy said you could be released. We're not going anywhere. We'll all be here when you wake up."

Instead of fighting the oblivion as I'd done so many times before, I let it drag me under. I didn't know how I knew, but when I dreamt of Faye this time, I knew it would be positive and happy. The memories that I held on to when the grief, sorrow, and agony threatened to pull me under—that's what I clung to in those moments of despair. I wasn't afraid. I conjured an image of her smiling face and held onto it with all I had. That's what kept me going.

"I miss you so much, Faye," I murmured as the black cloak of sleep folded me into its gentle embrace. The words floated away on the current, audible only to the sea and its creatures.

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