Life slowly returned to normal over the next few months—or as normal as it could, considering the circumstances. I even got back into cometball at Ani's urging, needing something strenuous to channel my grief and loss into. Thanks to the back-to-back, near-sleepless nights, I always had plenty of energy to burn. My family was always in the front row at every game, cheering me on.

Ani and I had dinner regularly at the Bronze Mermaid after her shift—sometimes with Mom and Dad, and sometimes just the two of us. Ani had never spoken another word about the nightmares that hounded her night after night. Just as I never talked about the images that chased me from sleep and left me gasping for water as I fought back waves of nausea. It was one such image from the previous night that had me distracted and tense today during a pick-up cometball game.

Ani had floated in front of me, her face red and tear-streaked. Only this time, anger clouded her eyes. "Your father murdered my aunt and left me an orphan. Why should I believe his children could be any different?"

Her words had been like rocks, hitting me with precise accuracy. I had felt every one like a physical blow. Even now, the memory of them made me shudder. Luckily, everyone just shrugged off my absentmindedness to grief and let it go. Or so I thought.

The few times I caught Ani's gaze during the game, her eyes brimmed with confusion and worry. And every time, I was the one who broke her gaze, forcing myself to focus on the game and not what the look in her eyes meant. As if I needed any more distractions, spasms of pain had begun to burst across my back at random intervals, the worst of which had me halting in the middle of the court. It had been happening more and more frequently since I'd gotten out of the hospital.

After a few minutes, the pain subsided enough for me to continue, albeit half-heartedly, with the game. By the time it was over, sweat poured down my face, and my breaths were sharp and pained. When I caught Jonah's eye, the worry in them mirroring Ani's expression, I inwardly winced.

After I let him read the unspoken words in my eyes, he wordlessly swam over to me and gently wrapped my arm around his shoulder. "How long has this been happening?" he asked quietly, the words barely more than a push of breath so as not to worry Mom, Dad, and Ani. The latter was indeed eyeing us, that same worry and concern in her features.

I squeezed my eyes shut, biting back a cry. When I felt like I could speak again, my voice was ragged. "Since I got out of the infirmary." I froze as I felt something warm and wet trickling down my back. Jonah swore, his words low and harsh.

"I know you won't go to the infirmary, but will you at least let me patch you up so everyone won't worry?" He phrased it as a question, but there was no mistaking the urgency in his tone.

My nod was barely perceptible, but it was good enough for Jonah, who sped off without another word. It wasn't until he returned and was wrapping my back with gauze that he spoke, his words confused and concerned. "Do you think this maybe is a side effect of you pushing your body—" I let out a low groan, the sound cutting off his words, as the makeshift bandage grazed the wound on my back.

I felt more than saw Jonah's eyes widen. "Gods, Drew. Why didn't you tell anyone it was this bad?" I detected no anger in his tone, but the shame pierced my heart just the same.

My breaths were sharp and tense; I focused all my concentration on breathing through the painful spasms that wracked my back. "I didn't want anyone to worry. We've—" a sharp, pained breath through clenched teeth—"got enough on our plates right now."

Jonah swam out from under my arm, studying my face. Though I tried to keep it steady, my gaze kept straying to Ani and the worry in her eyes. Jonah followed my gaze, frowning as he looked back at me. "What's this really about, Drew?"

It was the quiet emphasis on the question that had me shaking my head, wincing as my back twinged with the movement. "We can't talk here. Let's go—" another sharp breath through clenched teeth—"back to my suite and talk there."

As much as I hated keeping things from Mom and Dad, I certainly didn't want them overhearing, least of all Ani. It was bad enough that she'd looked at me with such concern and worry; I couldn't imagine how she'd see me if she knew the truth. I couldn't bear shattering the incredibly fragile trust we'd managed to build.

Jonah glanced over at Mom, Dad, and Ani and then back at me. "Can you swim? If you don't want them to worry..." he trailed off, but his unspoken words were clear. If I didn't want them to know about the injury, to worry, I would have to swim over to them on my own.

Dagger-sharp pain sliced across my back the moment Jonah let me go, but somehow, I managed to stay upright. Within minutes, I was sweating and panting, but I gathered the remaining strength from my nearly depleted body and swam toward them. Every stroke was agony, dagger-sharp pain slicing across my back with every labored breath.

Ani noticed me first, her eyes widening as she glimpsed the sweat on my face and the tremors that had begun shuddering through my body. "Drew? What's wrong?" At her tone, Mom and Dad looked over as well, identical expressions on their faces.

I forced a paper-thin smile, willing my voice to steady. "Nothing. I think that game took a lot more out of me than I expected. I'm going to head back to my suite and lie down for a bit." A pang of guilt pierced my heart at the worry on Mom and Dad's faces.

The former's eyes traveled from my face to my tail, but luckily, none of them thought to look at my back. Frowning, Dad put a hand on my shoulder, looked me up and down, and nodded. "Ok. If you're sure. Bella and I will check on you later."

It wasn't a lie; I was going to head back to my suite and lie down—after I patched up my back. I nodded, keeping that paper-thin smile on my face until they turned around. I felt more than saw Ani's eyes on me, but I didn't dare turn back around. With my agonizingly slow pace, it seemed to take an eternity to reach my suite. I sighed in relief when we finally stopped in front of the door.

It wasn't until we had reached my bedroom that I spoke, my voice ragged. "You still have that gauze?" Even as spots flashed in my vision, I felt unconsciousness tugging at me with every breath.

Jonah pushed open the door, nodding as he swam ahead of me. When I'd collapsed on the edge of a chair, my breath trembling as I squeezed my eyes shut, I felt Jonah's cool fingers brush against my back, inches from the wound. "I'm sorry, Drew, but this is going to hurt." I heard his swift intake of breath and sharp exhale as he readied himself.

"Do it," I ordered before I could lose my nerve. Images and faces lurked at the edges of my subconscious, beckoning to me, but I wasn't afraid. I'd confronted death more times than I could count, both awake and asleep. It wasn't the thought of what I'd face inside my subconscious that had my already-taut body near snapping. It was the memory of Ani's harsh words, the look on her face.

I knew I'd see her; at this point, it was practically a certainty. I just wasn't sure I'd be able to handle the words she was sure to throw my way. I'd long since learned that the mind could hold onto memories for unspecified amounts of time—could lock them away for safekeeping. I had yet to figure out if a physical wound could be capable of doing the same.

Another swift intake and sharp exhale of breath, then my vision blurred, an ear-shattering scream bursting from my lips as Jonah laid his palm on the center of the wound. For a long, eternal moment, I only saw blackness—a void of nothingness.

Then, one after another, faces materialized before me—slivers of light in the endless dark. My heart jumped into my throat as I recognized the first mermaid. Her face was pale and tear-streaked, even more leaking down her cheeks as she begged and pleaded.

Her golden-brown hair floated loosely around her shoulders, her hazel eyes wide with fear and panic. It was only then that recognition slammed into me. I'd never met the mermaid, yet I knew of her. Ani had spoken of her with such fondness. She was her aunt.

Ani was floating beside her, begging and pleading as well. My breath caught in my chest as the identity of the sole merman became clear. When he turned around and stared directly at me, I shivered under the weight of his gaze, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

This Jacob was not the merman who had stared at Faye and me with such regret and grief in his eyes in his final moments; this Jacob was the merman who had instilled such fear in Ani that she'd been unable to get a proper night's sleep in months. He was not my biological father. I had no idea who this merman was. The insane gleam in his eyes had me biting back a shudder.

I knew that even if he could hear me, nothing I could say or do would make any difference. He was too far gone in his grief and pain to see reason. I saw it in his stance—the way his hand trembled as he reached for the dagger at his hip, the shudder that went through his body as he raised the weapon above his head.

Jacob thought he was doing this for Carla, Ella, and Faye—the wife and daughters he hadn't been able to save. But I saw the truth. He was doing this because killing innocents was the only way he could cope with the shame, guilt, and agony that smothered him with every breath. If he hadn't started killing, he would have plunged that blade into his own heart a long time ago.

I saw it in his eyes—the invisible battle that waged within him. Even though I knew he couldn't hear me, even though I knew he was already gone, I found myself speaking before I was even aware of what I would say. "I wish I could say I had even a shred of compassion or mercy for you. But I don't. Not anymore."

With a heavy, steadying breath, I turned away a heartbeat before Jacob plunged the dagger down. I gasped as my eyes flew open, my throat raw as if I'd been screaming. Jonah's face was deathly pale, his hand shaking as it hovered above my back.

He blinked once, twice, before speaking. "W-what did you see?" His voice was rough.

My hand shook as I dragged it over my face. I opened my mouth to respond—but a sob came out instead. Full of grief, pain, and regret. Tears welled in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks in rivulets. I had no words to describe this hollowness inside me. It was bottomless; with every breath, I plunged deeper and deeper into oblivion.

My eyelids began to flutter, the exhaustion I'd been trying to keep at bay slowly pushing back. It took minutes for Jonah to transport me from the chair to my bed. "Get some sleep, Drew," he said, voice rife with concern. "I'll let Ani and your parents know."

The last thing I saw before real unconsciousness dragged me under was the worry on Jonah's face. That, more than the memory and the subsequent consequences of it, scared me more than anything.

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