When I opened my eyes again, dusk was slowly darkening the water. My muscles were sore as I pushed myself up to a sitting position, and I wondered how long I'd slept. For a minute, I couldn't remember what had happened—how I'd gotten here. Then it all came flooding back.

Hearing that Jonah was awake and asking for me; arriving at the infirmary and running into Coco; learning the extent of his injuries; swimming into his room and glimpsing the bandage on his shoulder. The conversation we'd had floated back to me in bits and pieces. My voice, broken and ragged. "'You could have been—'"

Jonah's response, his own soothing and calm. "'You have no reason to blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.'" As if I really was blameless. As if I didn't live every day with the pit of guilt and shame in my stomach.

Only now there was nothing—no shame, guilt, or sadness. No emotion. My depression had taken over completely, to the point where I didn't feel anything. I'd been sucked into the aforementioned black hole and was forced to watch as it completely consumed me. It had started to take its toll on everything—my daily routine, my appearance.

I went through each day slowly fading away from the happy and bubbly daughter, friend, and sister that I had been. I didn't even recognize myself when I looked in the mirror—a ghost stared back at me. These days, I didn't bother with concealer anymore—barely even had the energy to wash my face.

I listlessly swam into my closet, pulling on a red-and-black dress. When I finally opened my suite door and swam outside, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The usual morning chatter, normally lively and cheerful, sounded subdued and muted to my ears as I swam down to the dining hall.

I knew multiple pairs of eyes had to be on me, but I didn't even notice. Even the images that had haunted me for days on end no longer pulled me from sleep, drew me from a conversation, a class. I felt the ghost of a smile cross my face as I swam to our table and sat down. Mom reached over and squeezed my arm, a worried smile on her face.

Drew's voice made me turn my head, meet his gaze. "Waverly's been asking about you. I told her you hadn't been feeling well." It was word-for-word a conversation we'd had years ago—only under completely different circumstances. I nodded, taking a breath.

It wasn't until we were nearing the end of breakfast that I heard it—the faint sound of singing, growing louder with every breath. I almost ignored it, nearly dismissed it as a product of my exhausted mind. Only when I glimpsed a flash of blonde hair did I flinch, reach for the dagger at my waist.

The thought had barely crossed my mind before I was moving, coming face-to-face with Kailani. I noticed something was off a heartbeat later—her grin was too wide, her eyes too bright. I opened my mouth—to say what, I had no idea—but I didn't get the chance. I shuddered as I felt her grip my shoulder and spin me around, the tip of a dagger drawing a thin line of blood across my neck as it broke the skin.

"Well, Sister," she said softly, the word filled with such bitterness my heart skipped a beat. "Here we are. Just you and me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, no doubt to keep the others in the room from overhearing.

I didn't move a muscle, barely dared to breathe. My heart was pounding, but I managed to keep my voice calm. "How did you become a Siren? How did they lure you in?" Genuine curiosity laced my words, and I wished more than anything I could see her expression.

When I felt her hold on me relax ever-so-slightly, I finally allowed my muscles to relax. But I didn't move. Just waited for her response. It was something that had been niggling at me since we'd first met. She knew most of—if not all of—my past. It only made sense that I learn some of hers.

She was quiet for a minute before she spoke, voice hushed. "I'm an orphan. My mother died when I was born, my father a year later. I didn't have any other relatives to take me in, so I was sent to live with a family friend. I first heard the song when I was 11—had thought I must have been going crazy. But soon thereafter, I met Mica."

She explained who she was and what I was. At first, I'd thought she was insane. But then I'd thought about my life up until that point—the loneliness, the craving for real, lasting familial relationships. She told me that she could mend the hole that was inside me, erase the pain I'd been feeling—if only I joined her. So I did. That's when I sang for the first time."

Her body was rigid, hands clenched into fists at her sides. But her face was calm, eyes locked on me. "I was immediately entranced by the sound of my own voice. I felt a rush of power—something I'd never experienced before. I've been with her ever since. She's my only real family."

I stared at her with a blank expression on my face, not a trace of any emotion inside me. "How could you just go along with what she's doing? What you've done? You're a murderer." The word burst from my lips before I could take it back.

She scowled, her eyes alight with malice. "You're one to talk. How does it feel knowing you killed your own father, Faye? That guilt, shame, and anger... It eats at you until there's nothing left. Until there's an emptiness inside you that can't be filled." Her voice was filled with venemous glee. She knew exactly what buttons she was pushing.

My cheeks flushed; I wrapped my arms around myself as her words found their mark. I knew I'd done too good of a job suppressing my emotions when I couldn't even find it in myself to feel a shred of guilt at her words. I just felt empty. As much as I didn't want to admit it, she was right. My depression symptoms had started showing soon thereafter our birth father's death. I lived every day with that aforementioned emptiness inside me—did anything and everything I could to keep it at bay.

I sucked in a breath as she suddenly let me go, withdrew the dagger from my neck. I glanced around, finding the worried stares of my family. Mom's face was deathly pale, tears frozen on her cheeks. Drew's face was red with anger, eyes blazing with malice. Dad's expression was identical to Drew's, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Only when I broke Mom's gaze did I notice Mica, having swam inside and beside Kailani when I wasn't looking. Her face was solemn, eyes blank as she stared at the ground.

Jonah's face surfaced in my mind. I shook my head as I met Kailani's eyes again, body heavy with exhaustion. "Why Jonah? Why come after him?"

Anger flashed in Kailani's eyes at the sound of his name. "I had hoped I could sway him to our cause—but he was too clever. When he left, I was consumed with anger. Why did everyone I ever love leave? Was there something wrong with me? Finding out I was a Siren was the best thing that could have happened to me. I found a community of sisters—a family, one who'd never leave or forsake me."

Underneath all that buried anger, I sensed another emotion—deeper and more prevalent. Guilt. She blamed herself for her parents' death, even if she hadn't admitted it to herself. Her eyes suddenly widened as a gasp escaped her mouth.

I spun around, my own eyes widening as I took in the merman in front of me. He'd obviously been discharged—a black shirt hugged his muscled arms, hiding the bandage around his shoulder and shoulder blade. The color was slowly coming back to his face, but his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. He glanced from me to Kailani before he spoke. "Leave her alone."

Mock horror appeared on Kailani's face. "What are you going to do, Jonah? You and I both know you don't have the power that I do." Her voice had never lost that bitterness tinged with anger. If anything, it had only increased.

He nearly faltered, catching himself and taking a deep breath before looking up at Kailani. "I don't need power. I never did." Kailani didn't respond.

With what I could have sworn were tears in his eyes, he turned and met Dad's eyes. A silent conversation passed between them, then Dad disappeared from the room, reappearing moments later with a guard. I knew that Dad had explained at least a little bit of what had happened when the guard, glancing at Kailani, swam towards her, not saying a word. She didn't so much as try to escape—she merely nodded when the guard reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of shackles.

Dad's voice was cold, emotionless. "I was going to order the guards to let you starve to death. Luckily for you, Jonah interfered on your behalf. Be glad I'm letting you live." His expression never wavered, even as the click of the shackles echoed in the room.

The guard led Kailani out of the room, his gaze blank. Either Dad hadn't told him the whole story, or he was just really good at keeping his features inscrutable. No one spoke as the door slowly shut behind him, the silence almost deafening.

Jonah let out a breath, exhaustion in the sound. It was only when I saw motion out of the corner of my eye that I realized he was falling. Dad rushed to catch him, taking his weight with a grunt. I could all but feel the adrenaline slowly fading from his body. I'd be willing to bet that had been all that had kept him upright.

He locked eyes with me, the shocked horror in them piercing my heart. "What have I done?" He whispered, voice broken with pain.

Dad put a hand on my shoulder. "He needs to sleep. I'll find him a suite. Try to get some sleep, honey."

I nodded, but knew I wouldn't be able to. When I got to my suite, I barely made inside the door before I faltered. My gaze was blank as I sunk to the ground, staring at nothing. I didn't even bother changing my clothes before I fell into bed, my eyes closing against my will.

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