WATER SPLASH : MERMAID ADVENTURE

BEFORE THE TIDE(3)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Miranda returned to her room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She sank onto her bed, the sting of her father’s lecture still pressing down on her. Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, Beyoncé’s name lighting up the screen. With a sigh, she picked it up.

“Hey, Miranda! How’re you holding up? Please don’t tell me Dr. Morvan went full disciplinarian mode again,” Beyoncé teased, her voice as bright as ever.

Miranda gave a weak smile. “He did. I’m grounded. No outings, no fun. Just me and my room.”

“Ugh, I knew it. Typical Dr. Morvan.” Beyoncé groaned dramatically. “Meanwhile, my dad would probably just hand me a smoothie and say, ‘Relax.’”

That drew a faint laugh from Miranda. “Must be nice. I wish my dad was like that. People always think being an only child means you get spoiled like royalty, but I guess my fate turned out different.”

Beyoncé’s tone softened, a touch of seriousness slipping through. “Hey, don’t let it eat at you. You’ve got me. You’re not carrying this alone.”

Miranda’s throat tightened, but she whispered, “Thanks, Bey. That means a lot.”

“Anytime. And listen school’s resuming soon. Which means if you ever sneak out while you’re ‘grounded,’ you better save a spot for me. I will be your getaway driver in spirit,” Beyoncé joked, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.

Miranda laughed softly. “You’re terrible.”

“And you love me for it,” Beyoncé shot back.

Then her voice dipped, curious. “Listen… when we were trying to get a signal on the island… do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

Miranda closed her eyes, forcing herself to think. At first, all she saw was her dad’s furious face the night before, his voice still echoing in her head. She pushed harder, reaching for the fragments of the island, trying to see a cave, the shore, anything but a sharp throb pulsed at her temples, cutting her off. She winced. “No. Nothing. Just… blank.”

Beyoncé let out a breath. “Hmm. Maybe I’m overthinking. It’s just…something about it feels weird.” She didn’t push further. Instead, her voice lifted again, mischievous this time.

There was a beat of quiet. Miranda swallowed. “Bey… do you have Clara’s contact?”

“No. I’ll grab it from Monica. Don’t stress,” Beyoncé replied quickly.

“Okay. Thanks, Bey,” Miranda said quietly.

“Always,” Beyoncé repeated, her tone warm.

When the call ended, Miranda set her phone down and leaned back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Her chest still felt heavy, but Beyoncé’s words had made it just a little easier to breathe.

———

Monica lay sprawled across her bed, sunlight spilling through the curtains and softening the posters on her wall. Her phone buzzed, and she sat up, surprised to see an incoming FaceTime call. Beyoncé’s name flashed on the screen. After a small pause, she swiped to answer.

“Hey, Monica!” Beyoncé’s voice was bright as her face appeared.

“Hi,” Monica replied, adjusting her pillow. “Didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

“Well, I figured after everything that happened yesterday, it wouldn’t hurt to check in,” Beyoncé said with a little grin. “How are you holding up?”

Monica hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m… okay, I guess. Just trying to process it all.”

Beyoncé studied her for a moment. “You don’t look ‘okay.’ Something’s on your mind.”

Monica bit her lip, her gaze lowering. “I was supposed to meet someone yesterday. A date. But with everything that happened on the island, I completely missed it. I haven’t explained or even reached out since. I just… avoided it.”

Beyoncé’s expression softened. “That sounds rough. But you know… silence only makes things heavier. Even if you’re not ready to explain everything, at least let him know you didn’t forget on purpose.”

Monica rolled onto her back, exhaling slowly. “You’re probably right. I don’t want him to think I don’t care. I just don’t know where to start.”

“Start small,” Beyoncé said gently. “A simple message. Honest, but not complicated. If he’s worth it, he’ll understand. If he doesn’t… then that’s on him, not you.”

Monica gave a faint smile, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Thanks. That… actually makes sense.”

“Good,” Beyoncé grinned. “Oh, before I forget, could you send me Clara’s number? Miranda asked me for it earlier.”

“Sure, I’ll text it to you after this,” Monica nodded.

______

Monica was still lounging on her bed when her phone buzzed again — Beyoncé calling on FaceTime. She swiped to answer, and soon Beyoncé’s face lit up her screen.

“Hey,” Beyoncé said with an easy smile. “I know we only just spoke, but I’ve been thinking… doesn’t it feel like something weird happened last night? Especially when we were looking for Clara?”

Monica’s smile faltered. She pressed a hand on her forehead. “Honestly… every time I try to think about it, I get this headache. Like my brain’s hitting a wall.”

“Same,” Beyoncé admitted. “I thought maybe if we all talked about it together, it might help. Like a group FaceTime?”

Monica hesitated, then shook her head. “I can add Annalise… but not Clara or Elina.”

“Why not?” Beyoncé asked, frowning.

“Elina, I only met her yesterday. I don’t even have her number. And Clara… she doesn’t use a smartphone yet.”

Beyoncé blinked in surprise. “Wait, really? Is it like… her parents restricting her or something?”

Monica gave a small, awkward smile. “Could be. She’s always been different about that stuff.”

“Alright,” Beyoncé nodded. “Let’s work with what we’ve got.”

Monica tapped at her screen, and soon Annalise and Miranda’s faces joined the call. Annalise looked sharp as always, while Miranda’s expression was softer, still weighed down by the morning.

“Hey, girls,” Annalise said. “What’s going on?”

“Beyoncé’s idea,” Monica explained. “She thought it might help to talk.”

Miranda shifted on her bed. “Where’s Clara and Elina?”

Monica hesitated. “She’s not on. Clara doesn’t really use a smartphone.”

Beyoncé added, “Yeah and Elina wasn’t in my contacts either.”

“I do,” Annalise cut in. “Hold on.” A moment later, Elina’s quiet face appeared on-screen, her eyes darting nervously.

“Elina!” Beyoncé greeted warmly. “Glad you could join.”

“Thanks,” Elina murmured. “This is new for me. I’ve never done a group call like this.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Monica reassured her.

Miranda leaned closer to the screen, her voice soft but edged with concern.

“Have you both reached out to Clara?” Miranda asked right away, worry edging her voice. “Any word from her?”

“I’ve tried calling,” Monica said. “She’s not picking up.”

Annalise gave a small nod. “Same on my end.”

Beyoncé, noticing the shift in mood, tilted her head. “Speaking of yesterday, did any of you get in trouble because of it?”

Monica sighed, brushing a hand over her hair. “Not really. My parents weren’t mad. More… worried. They knew it was Zayan’s fault, so they didn’t blame me.”

Annalise asked Elina. “How did your dad take it, by the way? Since you stole Zayan’s boat?”

Elina looked down. “I don’t know yet. Your uncle will probably be harassing my dad.”

Beyoncé tried to lighten the mood without making light of it. “For what it is worth, Miranda definitely did not skate by. She is grounded,” she said, then added gently, “She is an only child.”

Monica blinked. “Really? I would have thought only child meant pampered.”

“Same,” Annalise said, surprised.

Miranda straightened. “Not in my house. My dad told me not to go, and I disobeyed. I deserve the consequences.”

The group went quiet for a beat, as if letting her words sink in.

Then Beyoncé leaned closer to the screen, her tone shifting.

“Do any of you ever feel like… something actually happened to us on that island?” she asked slowly, her words carrying weight. “Like we’re missing pieces we should remember.”

Elina frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“Because when Clara went missing, and we searched for her, everything after feels… fuzzy. Not like a memory, more like a blur I can’t grab hold of.” Beyoncé paused, biting her lip. “And this morning, I found a video on my phone. It’s dated March 16th, which is yesterday. In it, we’re by a pool. Then there’s this flash of light, and the recording just stops. After that, my phone has a string of blank videos. No sound, no image. Just emptiness.”

The girls had uneasy looks.

“That’s…” Monica began, brow furrowing, “that’s really strange.”

Miranda’s grip on her phone tightened. “Can you send it?”

“Already did,” Beyoncé replied. “I forwarded it to you and Monica. Monica, send it to Annalise. Annalise, you can pass it along to Elina. That way everyone sees it.”

They each glanced down as notifications pinged. A few seconds later, the silent, abrupt video played across their screens.

Beyoncé exhaled, her voice lowering. “Listen… nobody goes to that island. People tell stories about it, sure, but no one ever sets foot there. What if we saw something we weren’t supposed to? Something powerful enough to wipe our memories clean, or knock us out, so we couldn’t take the truth with us? That would explain the blankness.”

Elina gave a nervous laugh, though her eyes betrayed her unease. “This sounds like something out of a movie.”

“Maybe,” Beyoncé said firmly. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense. And whatever it is, we need to figure it out together, and we need to keep it secret.”

“So what are you suggesting we do?” Elina asked quietly.

Miranda hesitated, then spoke up, her voice mild but clear. “Maybe… maybe the only way is to go back to the island. To see for ourselves.”

Annalise’s reaction was immediate. “Are you serious? After everything? If any of this is true, we were lucky to make it home. And you,” her eyes cut toward Miranda, “just got grounded because you couldn’t listen. What if something worse happened? What if Elina’s dad loses his job because she stole Zayan’s boat? Or Clara who isn’t even here to defend herself, ends up paying the biggest price? Do you ever think of that before throwing us all back into danger?”

The sharpness of her words lingered. None of the others spoke, the silence heavy.

Miranda’s voice broke through, quiet and remorseful. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it selfishly.”

“It’s fine,” Annalise said curtly, softening only slightly. “But that video, we should delete it. No one else should see it. The fewer people know, the better.”

Monica bit her lip. “And Clara?”

“She doesn’t need to know,” Annalise replied firmly. “It would only make her worry.”

The group sat in thoughtful silence after Annalise’s words about Clara. Then, almost as if to ease the heavy mood, Monica shifted.

“By the way,” she said, her tone lighter, “Annalise and I have a swimming competition in two weeks. You guys should come watch.”

Miranda perked up, her tone innocent. “A competition? Like, at school?”

“It’s the University of Antares tri-university meet,” Annalise explained.

Beyoncé’s eyes widened instantly. “Hold on, you’re in Antares too?”

Monica nodded with a small smile.

“No way!” Beyoncé squealed, clapping her hands together. “This is crazy, we’re all ending up in the same place!”

Elina, quiet until then, nodded. “I already knew. I got in too.”

Annalise blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Elina said softly.

Miranda tilted her head, wonder in her voice. “Wow… all of us? That’s really something.”

“Guess we’re schoolmates now,” Beyoncé said, grinning. “And it’s going to be amazing.”

Miranda hesitated, then asked with honest curiosity, “But… how are first-years already allowed to compete? Isn’t it usually older students?”

Annalise chuckled. “Our coach has been training us since high school. He recommended us for the team before we even got in.”

“That’s impressive,” Miranda admitted. “I didn’t even know they did that.”

“Which is why,” Monica added with a playful smile, “you have no excuse. You have to come watch.”

“I’ll be front row, screaming the loudest,” Beyoncé declared.

“Me too,” Elina said warmly.

Miranda smiled faintly. “I’ll be there cheering you on.”

Beyoncé leaned back, unable to hide her excitement. “This is so perfect. We’ve only just met, and now same school, same everything. It feels like the start of something really special.”

The girls smiled at her words, the earlier heaviness easing into something lighter.

“I’ll check in on Clara tomorrow,” Annalise added, her voice softening. “I just… hope she’s okay.”

“Let us know if you do,” Miranda said gently.

“Of course,” Beyoncé said. “We’ll all keep in touch. And next time, fun only, no mysteries, agreed?”

The girls chuckled softly in agreement before, one by one, signing off.

“See you later,” Monica waved.

“Talk soon,” Elina added shyly.

And just like that, the screen went dark, leaving them each with the fragile comfort of newfound connection.