"Dad?"
"Oh my goodness, it’s you, sweetheart. We’ve been so worried! Ragnar told us everything. Luca too, he explained what happened with you and Moon. He helped us so much when Anzo had us trapped and blackmailed…"
I shut my eyes tight. No. Too much. Too much intensity. I can’t handle it. I can’t talk to them.
"I have to go," I blurt out, and hang up before I can break any further.
Almost instantly, another message comes in.
"Honey, what’s happening? Are you safe? We’re so scared for you!"
Sighing, I type back.
"Dad, I hope Ragnar explained everything. I’m not ready to talk right now. Whatever Anzo gave me messed me up. Sometimes the nerves freeze me, sometimes it hurts just to think about the past. And to speak. But I’m safe here at Sun’s parents’ house."
Silence. Then a reply lights up my screen.
"My goodness, child, we want you here with us. You shouldn’t be there on your own! If you’re in such rough shape, it’s better for you to recover with us. We bought a little house. It's beautiful here, peaceful; you’d love it. Please, think about coming!"
Admittedly, the thought had already crossed my mind. With them, I’d be safer, calmer. But I can’t leave yet. Not until I know for sure if I’ve found my fated.
"Not right now. I need to stay here. I’ll reach out when I feel stronger, but for now I need more time. There are things I have to figure out first, but I promise I’ll let you know."
Even writing it feels draining.
Not because of pain this time, but because of the weight pressing down on me, the inner conflict I can’t shake. Deep down I know I belong with my parents. They’re my real family, not the Nolans. And yet something holds me here, something I can’t let go of.
My fingers tremble over the screen, my energy folding inward like a collapsing puffball. I feel guilty, giving them so little when they want so much; they care about me. But the truth is, their intensity overwhelms me. Their worry, their constant attention, that old overprotectiveness I remember from when I was a teenager, it’s too much now. I can’t face it. I’ve changed. I’m not the same kid I was, for better or for worse.
I crave… more.
Outside, night is starting to fall.
I feel the need to let go, to relax, maybe slip out into the twilight and swim a little. Alone. Water has always calmed my mind, and lately it’s been nothing but chaos, stress, and uncertainty.
I grab a towel, but among all the things I bought for myself, I never thought to get trunks, so I just take a pair of black boxer briefs.
I climb down the ladder, moving unseen along the paths. The garden is lit only faintly here and there by small solar lamps, soft colors glowing in the dark. It feels pleasant.
I step onto the beach. The water is dark, but that doesn’t bother me. It almost feels like a challenge, like maybe part of my pain and my past could dissolve into that darkness. I look carefully around to make sure no one’s nearby, then strip down and toss everything onto the sand.
I walk toward the water’s edge.
It’s so calm and shadowy. When I dip my feet in, the warmth surprises me. The lake has been soaking up the sun all day. Stepby step I wade in deeper. The bottom slopes gently instead of dropping off, and I like that. Under my toes I feel sand instead of muck. Maybe the Nolans hauled it in to make the beach more welcoming. Whatever the reason, it suits me perfectly.
Finally I dive all the way in and start swimming. I’ve always been a decent swimmer. My parents had a pool, and ever since I was a kid, I’d swim in it to stay fit. In that way, I understand Snow, his training, and his passion for the water. They feel close to my own, even though I never worked at it with his discipline or for as long as he has. And I don’t swim freestyle. I just move with a steady breaststroke, head above the surface, and it’s deeply soothing. I’ve perfected that stroke so I can go on for ages without tiring.
I swim in wide arcs, pulling away from the beach, circling back, again and again. It’s dark, the moon faintly brightening the sky, but there’s no fear in me. Fear lives in my body and mind only when I reach into the past. Out here the water is just… predictable.
As I swim, I get the sense that the night is becoming lighter somehow. I don’t understand why. Did someone turn on a light along the shore? Why does the water look illuminated?
Then I see it. The black around me has shifted into a silver-blue glow streaked with turquoise. I glance down and can see my arms and hands moving beneath the surface.
That’s not the whole change. I stop mid-swim, look farther down, and there they are—my legs are visible clear as day in the water. Impossible at this hour, yet I’m surrounded by clarity, as though I’ve been dropped into a bubble of turquoise light somewhere on sunny tropical waters.
I swim in wonder, encircled by this glowing halo, when something shimmers in the distance and moves closer. A school of fish. But not ordinary fish. These… glow. They shine in every color of the rainbow, like light poured into living bodies. Theycircle me in a wide ring, keeping their distance just beyond the bright water area, staying in the shadows while I float in the glowing sphere.
What’s happening?
