The sizable Cain house reflected the fading colors of the sky during my nighttime stroll with Nate. Though the air was still, patches of flowers swung happily from side to side at each corner.

A neighbor screamed at something on the ground—something that at first, seemed not to be there. Then I recognized the tiny, cowering ball of white fur: it was a dog.

I paused. Nate tugged on my arm, saying we needed to go inside. I pressed him toward the house, but didn't move. He went reluctantly as I assured him I was right behind.

The large man spat curses and moved strangely. I was already marching over when he kicked. He missed, the dog dodging with a whine, and I started to run. I slid in between them just as the man kicked again, this time making contact—with my side. The force of it brought me down, but not before I grabbed the dog. I ignored the instinct to curl around the fluffy creature and instead stumbled into a dash toward the house.

"Hey!"

I ignored the shout.

Back inside, I walked through the dim hallway, hand sliding along the wall until it found a door. I hid us behind it. Not a room—the space too limited, too dark. A minute tongue licked my cheek, the dog resting calmly against my chest, and I wondered how it could feel safe so fast.

I heard Victoria's low, angry voice.

"Fine!" the neighbor shouted. "Didn't want the s-stupid thing anyway! Have him! Let him piss all o'er your shoes, see how you..."

A door slammed.

"Where'd she go?"

"I don't know, Nate, help me look, please..."

Seconds passed, a light turned on, and Nate appeared.

"Vicki!" he cried.

Victoria rushed into view and froze. "Sweetheart..."

We had a saying, among merkind. The sweetest heart is the first to get eaten.

Their eyes were focused on my middle. I looked down and saw a line of blood staining my shirt from rib to hip. Knowing from experience that pain was easily managed on land, I dismissed the sudden sting as I shook away their help and headed to my room.

They followed.

Even after Victoria convinced me to part with the dog—"What if he's hungry?"—he wouldn't leave me. When I tried to put him down, or in anyone else's arms, he'd squeeze against me and whine. If only you were human, I thought to him mournfully. I think you love me already.

Victoria gave up, having me hold him on the opposite side of my reopened wound while she tended to it, first cutting away part of my shirt. I sat on my bed in shock, barely aware of her next to me, wiping and tugging.

"Slow your breathing, darling. With me," Victoria said, demonstrating. Nate took my hand, and she nodded. "Good, that's it... There, all fixed up." She gently nudged my shoulder. "Scoot back, let's tuck you in."

I obeyed, and closed my eyes as the pup settled between my shoulder and ear.

She was seated beside me in the sand. Her hands traveled, touched where skin became scale.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked, awed.

My tail stretched in front of me.

"I think we both are," I said, swinging my heavy hair off my shoulders. The move uncovered my closed but irritated wound, which I stared at in surprise. Why was that here?

Brook stared at it, frowning, and her hand came to rest over mine. As she squeezed—

I woke. But I could still feel her squeezing my hand.

Her raven head rested on my upper leg. She was sleepy-eyed, as if she had just woken up herself. She stared at my hand, and as she spoke, I closed my eyes, not wanting to break the spell.

"So strange," she murmured. There was a pause. "You smell like the sea...it's all you ever smell like. I wonder if that's why you're so familiar to me?" Moving my hair away, she lightly touched the bandage that stretched down my side.

After she was gone, I left the bed, going to the windows. The night sky continued to twinkle on. Feeling both mocked and comforted, I glanced at my pillow, where the pup still slept.

***

Alone on the beach, I threw off my clothes to feel the air on my skin.

It was as my feet traveled across the sand that a wave of crushing agony passed over me...and straightening my weakened knees, I knew. I knew, and I dreaded what would soon come.

But I was distracted by the unmistakable—this time—flash of fins. Yellow and purple.

Lefi and Esola surfaced simultaneously. Their glares revealed anger and horror, yes, but not surprise. They had already seen me in this form.

"What have you done, sister?" Lefi demanded.

How could I convey to them my jumbled thoughts and emotions? I was shaken, but my certainty that I was where I belonged remained.

"What was right for myself."

Their faces darkened at my missing voice. Or perhaps just at my words.

"Running away is never right," Esola said.

I was running to something—there was a difference. "Why do we say run, anyway? Mermaids don't run."

Lefi rolled her eyes, but Esola interrupted her retort, sighing. "We saw you," she said, staring at me. "The day last. With them. You care for them."

"I do," I admitted.

"I can't imagine caring for humans—they're so quick to die," Lefi said quietly.

"Did you know," Esola said, after a long silence, "we used to tie Kindra's arms to her body and watch her swim in circles? We didn't understand her. We didn't understand you."

"You didn't do that to me," I said, horrified.

"You would've retaliated. But such things wouldn't even occur to Kindra," Esola said, and Lefi looked away.

I shook my head. Kindra was content—she didn't need anyone to feel sorry for her. "Don't carry it. You were children."

"When we saw you, day last. We understood," Esola said. "Never have we brought you that sort of happiness."

"You're wrong," I said. "Ever since I got my legs, I've had a nightmare. I wave to you from this very shore, but you either fail to see me, or ignore me. I'm not fearless. I miss you terribly. But whatever happens, my heart is here."

They nodded.

"And Father?" I asked. "Is there any change in him at all? Did he even notice I was gone?"

Lefi and Esola smiled sadly. Then their eyes flickered, and their shoulders stiffened. They started to sink.

Esola rushed to say, "Terra, we believe in—"

"Terra?"

I shot a panicked glance behind me at Brook, and then back at the waves. My sisters had disappeared.

I turned to face Brook, offering her an innocent smile.

"There you are. Were you talking to someone? I thought I—whoa!" She held out her hands. "Whoa. I get that you're comfortable with yourself, but—"

"Aren't you comfortable with me?"

Picking up my clothes, she handed them to me, averting her eyes from my mouth. "I just worry that you don't comprehend sometimes what exactly you're doing."

Oh, I comprehended it fine, and apparently I never learned, because a spark of hope seemed to illuminate my chest as she urged, "Let's go home."