Leena's voice haunts my nightmares, alluring and mesmerising. Her song is the same as the others, but it has a... darkness to it, for lack of a better word. "'Sister Siren, we call to thee. Join us now, cross the seas. Heed our call, be the voice. Take the vow; make the choice.'"

That voice in the very back of my head is screaming at me to swim, get out of there before it's too late. But before I can so much as turn tail, a hand grasps my wrist, halting me. I look up into the darkest blue eyes I've ever seen—so dark they are almost black. From what I can tell, the young merman is around Drew's age, maybe a few months older.

"Who are you?" I cry, trying to wrench my arm from his grip. His fingers are so cold, they almost burn. He swipes a stray lock of black hair out of his eyes, never taking his gaze off me.

His voice sends shivers down my spine when he speaks. Nothing like Leena's voice—his is deeper, harsher. "I'm going to enjoy this. Sing."

All the blood drains from my face at his words, my body going limp. Like a recurring nightmare, Jacob's voice fills my head. "'He brought her to his house, then bade her to sing day and night—with little rest in between.'"

I keep my mouth firmly clamped shut, refusing to yield an inch. I would not use my talent—if you could really call it that—for something so... wicked. He lifts a brow, his face growing impatient. "Come on, Siren. Sing."

I close my eyes—partly so I don't have to look at him any more, partly because I'm desperately trying to wake myself up from what is clearly a nightmare. I count to three, then open my eyes. A whimper escapes my lips right before he grabs my chin, forcing my gaze to his.

"Perhaps she can convince you," he says, motioning to someone off to the side. My eyes widen as Leena appears, a content grin on her face.

"Sing, Faye. It's your destiny. Just like your mother." When I don't respond, she nods, then clicks her tongue. "Okay. Don't say I didn't warn you." She glances at the merman, eyes glittering. "Now, Wyatt."

My heart is pounding so hard, I feel it in my jaw. He disappears for a heartbeat, returning with a familiar, scared mermaid. Mom.

My cry breaks the silence hovering over us, anger and fear nearly choking me. I scan her, but don't see any visible injuries. Wyatt tightens his grip on Mom's sleeve, eliciting a moan from the latter. My eyes snap to her right shoulder, the arm hanging limp at her side.

I've heard the stories from Aunt Izzy about her mother—how the latter's grandfather broke her shoulder in an attempt to get her to break. "Please," I gasp, the words tangling in my throat. "Stop. I'll..." I swallow hard, bracing myself. "I'll do anything." My voice breaks as I breathe the last word, but I do not falter. I do not cower.

He grins, his eyes lighting up. "Thought you'd see it our way." Without a word, he releases Mom, a sob breaking from the latter as she rushes towards me. I grab her hands and look directly into her eyes, hoping they convey what I can't say.

She lets out a heartbreaking cry, but nods, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I force myself to break her gaze, swallowing hard and swimming over to Wyatt. The smile on his face borders on manic, his eyes glittering with malice.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and close my eyes. The words burst from me like a rogue wave crashing against the shore. "'Sister Siren, we call to thee. Join us now, cross the seas. Heed our call, be the voice. Take the vow; make the choice.'"

His eyes glaze over, his smile widening. I can tell immediately that the words don't even register; the silvery tone of my voice is all that he hears. My voice breaks, but I don't falter. Over and over, again and again, until my voice turns hoarse and strained. I'm panting as I open my eyes, struggling to get water into my lungs.

Through the haze of exhaustion, a voice fills my ears, though I can't tell if it's real or part of the nightmare. "Faye? Wake up, sweetheart. It's okay. It was just a dream."

I don't remember closing my eyes, but I must have. I jerked upright a heartbeat later, my eyes wide and fearful. My heart was pounding, my hands shaking as I frantically glanced around, terrified that Wyatt (whoever he was) might be lurking in the shadows. Mom and Dad were beside my bed, both wearing concerned and worried expressions. Drew was behind them, his eyes locked on me.

"You're safe, Faye," Mom was saying, her voice calm, though her hands trembled slightly. "You're safe, honey." She lifted a hand to my face, moving a sweaty lock of hair from my forehead.

Dad squeezed my hand. "Take a breath, sweetheart. You're shaking." It was only when I inhaled shakily that I realized I was shaking.

"I..." Words failed me as I glanced at Mom, all the color draining from my face. Suddenly needing to move, I slowly got out of bed, swimming into the bathing room. Already cringing, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

My normally bright eyes were dull and red-rimmed, as if I'd been crying; my face was pale and wan, tear streaks frozen on my cheeks. I hurriedly threw on a red-and-black dress before swimming back into my bedroom. Mom took my hand as I sat beside her on the edge of my bed.

"I can't take it anymore," I breathed, tears again filling my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. "I just want it to stop."

I heard Drew murmur to Mom and Dad, then felt featherlight kisses being pressed to my head. When the door clicked shut, I lifted my eyes to my brother, the concern and worry in his eyes nearly stealing the water from my lungs. "Okay. Does this have anything to do with you staying at Waverly's two nights ago?"

I didn't respond for a long moment. When I finally did, it was only one word, filled with years' worth of repressed anger, pain, and grief. "Carla."

He froze, eyes widening as he swallowed hard. I knew it was hard for him to speak about our birth mother, given that he (out of the two of us and being the oldest) remembered more about her than me. His hand shook slightly as he reached for mine.

"She loved all three of us deeply. When we first met Aunt Nerissa and she helped us, I'd been so worried about how we were going to survive. She'd done her best, but I'd known we were struggling. From that point forward, she carried herself differently. I'd known that we'd had a father, but he was never around. She worked herself to the bone trying to make ends meet, keep us safe and fed."

I squeezed his hand as he took a deep breath. "After she..." He paused again, silver lining his eyes as he inhaled shakily. I didn't say anything, just held his hand as he got his emotions under control. "Died and we went to live with Mom and Dad, I grieved in secret. I blamed myself for not anticipating the attack, for not jumping in and rescuing her."

You don't remember it because you were too young, but I envied you. I was jealous of the fact that you wouldn't have to live with the horror and grief of that day, the images. The day Mom and Dad adopted us was the happiest day of my life, Faye. Not just because we would finally have a stable home life, but because I knew that they would love us unconditionally."

I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him tightly as he continued. "I remember our birth father, but only vaguely. When he suddenly turned up, I was terrified. Terrified that he would try to take us away from them. Hearing him apologize took away some of the pain, the grief, but not all. I love Mom and Dad and wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. All I ever wanted was to protect you, Faye." His voice finally broke as he breathed my name.

My voice was hoarse when I spoke. "Did you know that Carla and I were descendants of the Sirens?"

He shook his head, eyes wide. "No. When did you find out?"

I had barely opened my mouth before it all came out—the nightmares, the note, the images that haunted me day and night. His face was pale when I finished. "Does it have anything to do with what happened at dinner the other night?"

Tears again filled my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. "That flash of red hair had reappeared in my mind, along with the sound of singing. I quickly realized no one but me could hear it. Instead of a melody, though, it was only five words. 'Siren call, where are you?'"

I shuddered as I recalled that moment—the confusion and fear. "The words had flowed through my very bones—thunderous and wild, free and dangerous. I had almost answered aloud. It wasn't until Waverly spoke that I realized I had. Hearing the truth was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was angry, though. Why had Carla kept the truth from me all these years?"

I swiped at my eyes, which were filled with tears. I was so tired of crying. When the knock sounded on my door, I couldn't stop myself from flinching. "Faye? Drew?" Dad's worried voice was muffled through the door.

Drew rose and swam to the door, opening it and ushering Dad inside. As I looked at him, a bolt of regret shot through me. He looked exhausted, as if he'd aged ten years in the span of a few days. "Dinner's being served downstairs if you two are hungry."

I looked out the closest window—the waters were indeed dark. Had that much time passed? I glanced at Drew, but he was already nodding. As we followed Dad out of the suite, I felt Drew gently take my hand and squeeze.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. When I finally got back to my suite, when I'd shut the door behind me—alone, exhausted, and drained—I released the torrent of tears that had been building up inside me all day. I was tired, I realized.

I went to bed early that night, my head throbbing. Silent tears leaked down my cheeks as I laid awake, begging sleep to overtake me quickly.

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