Beneath The Surface

Chapter 10: The Depths

I wake before dawn. Nightmares still claw at the edges of my mind. Calder is finally behind bars, but justice tastes hollow. They say I am free now, but inside I feel trapped beneath a sinking weight. Once I was Mira. Now I am Mia Ellison, Eleanor’s daughter. Every corner of my room echoes with things I should forget. On this first morning as Mia, I find myself staring into the mirror. The face looking back is a stranger’s, haunted with secrets. I touch the scar at my throat, where ice-cold needles once pressed. The kettle whistles faintly; warm steam curls up as if to comfort me, but I feel nothing. Even familiar things are tainted. A photograph on the dresser shows Eleanor smiling with me in happier times. She saved me from Calder—I owe her everything. Yet her courage has left me with all the memories I once tried to bury. A knock sounds at the door. My heart leaps. At this hour? I’m alone. Heart pounding, I rush across the hallway. On the porch mat lies a soaked envelope, edges curled with rain. The ink is frantic. My old name, “Mira,” is scrawled across the front. Inside, I flick on the hallway light, hands trembling. The envelope drips ink onto the floor. I break the seal and unfold the note inside: Find me at midnight at the old pier.

I don’t have much time.

Leah The name Leah twists in my gut. Another girl. Another victim of Calder’s experiments. The note’s desperate plea hums in my mind. My blood runs cold ... and yet something like hope ignites inside. If she’s reaching out to me, maybe I’m not alone. I tuck the crumpled note into my coat. Eleanor saved me once; now maybe I can save someone else. I have to find her. Midnight approaches under a stormy sky. Thunder rumbles low and rain hisses on the windshield. I drive through the darkness, headlights carving paths through the sheets of water. Every mile toward the lake feels like going deeper inside myself. At last, the ruined pier appears ahead—a jagged silhouette in the darkness. I park and step onto the old wood. The boards groan under each step, water dripping through the cracks into the churning lake below. At the far end of the pier stands a figure, hunched and shivering against the storm. My breath catches. I recognize that posture from my nightmares—she must be Leah. Lightning flashes overhead. The figure straightens slowly. She turns, and the light reveals a pale face framed by dripping hair. Her hazel eyes are wide and haunted. “Mira?” she whispers, voice trembling like a prayer. I swallow, voice shaking. “I’m Mia now,” I say gently. “My mother—Eleanor—she saved me. She told me who I was, about the lab, and about you.” Her eyebrows lift at the name. “Eleanor... saved you?” Her voice wobbles. Lightning flickers on the scars at her throat—tiny memories carved in flesh. She presses her fingers to her lips. “I remembered seeing you with her... I felt safe when you hummed lullabies in the dark.” I nod, tears stinging my eyes in the rain. “That was you, too,” I whisper. “I remember now—the lullabies and nightmares, your hand clutching mine through the nights. We were together, Leah. They called us the twin girls.” My voice cracks. “We were part of his experiment. I escaped, but they locked you away. I’m so sorry.” Leah’s hands come up, trembling, and she turns away into the darkness. A shaking breath leaves her. “I waited every night by our window,” she murmurs. “I thought you’d come for me. I... I waited, and nothing happened.” Her shoulders shake; the storm’s wind whips around her. “By the end, I felt like I was already dead.” My chest lurches. “I didn’t know how to find you,” I choke out. “Everyone told me you were gone, that there was nothing left... I tried. I couldn’t leave without you, I swore I’d come back.” She looks up at me, eyes hollow. “I have nothing left, Mia. No family. No home. Just this pain.” She steps closer to the pier’s edge, and my pulse races. “I don’t belong anywhere,” she says, voice breaking. “I’m done, Mia...” “No,” I whisper fiercely, reaching out. “You have me. You have someone who understands, someone who will stand by you. We can start over. I’m here, Leah.” Tears streak down Leah’s face, mixing with the rain. For a moment, she offers a broken smile. “Goodbye, Mia,” she says softly, then steps forward into the abyss. “Leah!” I scream, but the sound is caught by the storm. I plunge off the pier after her, arms outstretched into the black water. The lake is ice-cold, a brutal shock. My lungs slam, and I swallow water as I surface. Leah is a few feet away, dark hair streaming around a pale face of panic. I kick toward her and grab her arm, pulling her close. We break the surface coughing. Her body is limp against me as I kick frantically to stay afloat. “I’ve got you,” I gasp. “Hold on!” Leah shivers, teeth chattering. She lifts her head and meets my eyes, sorrow and relief flickering together. “I... I thought I’d die,” she whispers, voice raw. “I’m so cold.” My chest tightens. “You won’t die, Leah. I promise. We’ll get you out of here.” I tighten my arms around her, scanning the darkness. The shore still feels far. Leah isn’t swimming; she’s barely conscious, just clinging. “No, Leah,” I say, panic rising. “You can’t give up now. I’m here.” I kick again toward shore, one arm clutching her tight. Another wave slams into us, and I lose hold of Leah’s arm in the chaos. Her body floats beside me, drifting away. “Leah!” I shout, fear lurching in my gut. The storm devours my cry. Rain and waves slam into me. I spin, frantically searching. The lake is a fury of darkness; lightning flashes above. Leah is gone. I thrash in place, voice torn. “Leah! Leah, where are you?” Only the storm answers, in howling wind and crashing waves. I surface, lungs burning, eyes wild with panic. Only empty darkness surrounds me. My heart pounds; I can’t breathe through the terror. A lightning bolt cuts through the sky above. Leah—she’s stumbling out of the water onto the broken edge of the pier, soaked and wide-eyed with horror and grief. She’s alive, calling my name. I try to scream back, but my mouth fills with burning water. My limbs feel like stone. I know it now—I will not reach that shore. Leah’s voice calls to me, but the current tugs at me, relentless. Beneath the surface, there are no storms. The furious wind and rain become distant echoes. The only sound is my own heartbeat, slower and slower. Beneath the surface, everything is at peace. I close my eyes, the last of my story.