I was up hours before the sun had even risen over the water. When sunlight finally began filtering through the windows, it took a minute to remember where I was. What had happened. Then, in a blinding flash, it all came back.

Jacob. The tears he'd struggled to hold back as he'd spoken, giving both me and Drew some much needed closure—but also a heartbreaking revelation about our birth mother's death. The look in his eyes as he'd breathed the word that'd been haunting me since I'd first gotten the note. Siren.

I'd never been much of a singer—had never really tried, honestly. The sea creatures and the ocean itself made their own kind of music, one I was content to listen to forever. The sound of minnows chattering as they swam, fish singing, humpback whales breaching.

None of my family—biological or adopted—had ever been musical. I quietly got dressed and swam down to the kitchen. Waverly's mother, Mrs. Marshal, was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of bubble tea in her hands.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't think anyone else would be up."

She only smiled at me, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. Every time I saw her, I was amazed at how much she and Waverly favored one another—if it weren't for the obvious age difference, they could be twins. Same caramel hair, same blue eyes, same crease in their foreheads when they were thinking.

I sat down, clasping my hands together in front of me. She held up a finger, rising from the chair and swimming to the counter. Quickly and efficiently, she had another mug of bubble tea in her hands, a knowing look in her eyes. I smiled my thanks.

"What has you awake at this hour?" She whispered. "Can't sleep?"

I exhaled as I took a sip. "Just family trouble." As the words left my mouth, her eyes darkened.

She put a hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" The concern in her words and expression almost stole the water from my lungs. "Is it Drew? Your parents?"

I quickly shook my head, dismissing her worry. "No, no. They're fine." My hands tightened on the mug, however, as the words left my mouth.

Her question wasn't too far from the truth, though. I don't know if it was the concerned look in her eyes or the way she gently squeezed my arm, but tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them.

Honestly, it had been such a stressful, emotional past few days it was a miracle I was even holding myself together at all. Not to mention the nightmares, which hadn't ceased in the wake of the life-changing news. If anything, they'd become more frequent and stronger, if such a thing was even possible.

"I just... I don't know what to do," I breathed. "I'm just so tired." The word ended in a sob as I lowered my head into my hands and sobbed quietly.

Mrs. Marshal sighed heavily as she pulled me to her, rubbing my back as I cried. "Oh, honey," she soothed. "Just let it out."

I clung to her, eyes squeezed shut as tears leaked down my cheeks. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but when I finally lifted my head, I felt drained. Tired and empty. She wiped any lingering tears from my cheeks.

"I'm always here for you." She pressed a kiss to the top of my head as I smiled through my tears.

I quietly swam back to Waverly's room, surprised to find her awake and nearly dressed. Her eyes searched my face, worry flashing in them as they beheld the tear streaks on my cheeks. "Are you okay? I was worried when I woke up and didn't see you."

I swam into her bathing room, closing the door behind me and got dressed as well. "Yeah," I said through the door. "Your mom and I were just talking."

I shrugged into a red-and-black dress, taking a steadying breath as I did so. Her eyes were filled with worry and concern as they met my own. "I'm always here for you. I'm so sorry you and your family are going through this."

We had just left her room and were swimming into the kitchen when I heard it again—that same voice. Clear, silky, and alluring. Close, too. My eyes widened and I rushed outside, breathing shakily.

A mermaid with long coal-black hair floated a few feet from me, her back to me. She never paused in her singing, however. I swam closer, hand trembling as I reached out to her. When she abruptly turned around, our eyes met and I barely managed to bite down on the scream building inside me.

Her eyes—the color of fresh seaweed—scanned my own, widening. "Faye Mercer, Sister Siren, we've been waiting for you." Without another word, she began to sing, her voice alluring and smooth.

The melody flowed through my blood, my bones faster than I could drink it in. Despite hearing the song only once before, I somehow knew every word. "Sister Sirens, we call to thee. Join us now, cross the seas. Heed our call, be the voice. Take the vow; make the choice." The mermaid paused for only a heartbeat before speaking again, extending her hand. "Only you can decide whether to take the vow, Sister."

Even though a small voice in the very back of my head warned me against it, I instinctively reached for her hand. I dimly heard Waverly cautioning me from behind, but I didn't—couldn't—turn away. When I spoke, my voice was unwavering. "I'm ready to take the vow."

Her fingers were ice-cold as they brushed against mine, drawing a shiver from me. I didn't hesitate. She smiled, her eyes glittering, and gestured behind her. I sucked in a sharp breath, not knowing what to expect.

I never would have predicted the red-haired mermaid floating a few feet away from us, her back to us as well. Waverly had caught up to us and was now tugging on my sleeve, urging me to turn back. "Faye, come on. This isn't real. We have to get out of here!"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as the mermaid finally turned around, her own—the same as our late sister's—wide and filled with tears as well. "My darling daughter," she whispered, raising a hand to cup my cheek. "Come home."

I didn't realize I was crying until my chest began to hitch. In the very back of my head, a small voice again warned me that this wasn't real, but I quickly blocked it out. My mother—my birth mother, whom I'd never really known—was here, right in front of me.

She turned to the other mermaid, her eyes darkening slightly. "Leena. How dare you try to corrupt my daughter?" Her voice was full of venom, her eyes blazing with anger.

The name rang hollow to me, but the other mermaid—Leena—clearly recognized my birth mother. "Oh, Carla. I'm not trying to corrupt her." She all but spat the word, as if the very idea was horrendous. "It's her destiny. Just as it was yours, long ago."

Tears streaming down my cheeks, I wanted to believe—more than anything—that it was real. But it wasn't. "You're not r-real," I choked out, my voice breaking.

With a loud, heartbreaking cry, I wrenched myself from Leena's grasp, all but collapsing into Waverly's arms. I felt like my heart was physically breaking in half—the pain was that real. Waverly spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Can you swim?"

I clutched my chest, trying to breathe through the pain. After a few minutes, my breathing finally steadied enough for me to speak. "Yeah." If I'd had any emotion left in me, I would have been shocked at the hollowness of my voice—the emptiness.

Without a backward glance, we swam home. An old heaviness took root inside me, dragging me down until every movement was an effort—even breathing was a struggle. When we got back to the palace, I heard multiple hushed voices—snippets of coversation with my name sprinkled throughout—but I didn't even notice.

I was focused on breathing—in and out, in and out—so I didn't notice my brother swim to my side and take my arm, murmuring to Waverly. It was only when he spoke to me, his voice low and worried, that I looked at him. "It's okay, Faye. Come with me. Everything's going to be okay."

I let him lead me to my suite, not even recognizing my surroundings. He swam with me to my bedroom, never letting go of my hand. "Sleep, Faye." I heard the words, but they were distant, far-away. Exhaustion—likely from the shock and grief from earlier—quickly dragged me under, that blissful darkness welcoming me with open arms.

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