THE SPACE BETWEEN SILENCE(2)
1537 Words
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A salty breeze carried the scent of fish and brine as Elina hurried along the bustling dock, a basket tucked against her hip. Her mother had sent her with her father’s forgotten breakfast, muttering about how Captain Emberwing would starve himself if someone didn’t force him to eat.
The docks were alive fishermen hauling nets, merchants shouting prices. A few greeted her as she passed.
“Morning, Elina!”
“You’re brighter than the sun today,” one old sailor chuckled, tipping his cap.
She offered a polite smile, though her mind was elsewhere. She spotted her father’s office but lingered at the edge of the dock instead of barging in. The water shimmered beneath the early light, waves breaking into soft foam.
Then came the sound: rapid clicks, high-pitched whistles.
Elina’s head whipped toward the water just as a sleek gray dolphin broke the surface. Another followed, then two more, their bodies gleaming silver in the sun. Gasps rippled through the nearby fishermen.
“They’ve never come this close,” someone murmured.
“Look at that… they’re following her.”
Elina’s lips parted in wonder. The dolphins circled near, curious eyes locked on her. She knelt carefully, setting the basket aside, and extended her hand. The largest glided forward, nudging her palm with its smooth nose. A giggle escaped her, light and unguarded.
The dock seemed to pause, hushed by the sight, until a voice cut sharp through the air.
“Always need the world to look at you, don’t you?”
Her smile faltered. Slowly, she turned.
Mr. Winterson stood a few paces behind, arms folded, his gaze hard as stone. His lip curled as if her laughter alone offended him.
The whispers on the dock stilled. Elina’s throat tightened. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to shrink under his stare.
At that moment, Captain Emberwing stepped out of the office, adjusting his cuffs. His eyes flicked from his daughter to Mr. Winterson, narrowing at once.
“What did you just say to my daughter?”
Mr. Winterson smirked, unbothered. “You heard me.”
Elina thrust the basket into her father’s hands, her voice clipped. “Here. Mom said you forgot this.” Her cheeks burned. Without waiting for his reply, she spun on her heel.
Behind her, the dolphins let out mournful whistles, as if echoing her hurt, before slipping beneath the waves.
She stormed down the dock, heart pounding. She didn’t notice Zayan until she nearly collided with him.
“Are you blind?” she snapped, brushing past before he could speak.
Zayan froze, staring after her. He had never heard her voice sound like that sharp, furious, trembling at the edges.
“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.
Drawn by the raised voices, he turned toward the dockside office. His father and Captain Emberwing now stood chest to chest, voices raised.
“How dare you talk to my daughter like that?” Captain Emberwing barked. His hands clenched at his sides, his chest heaving.
Mr. Winterson didn’t flinch. He crossed his arms, smirking. “If she doesn’t want to be talked about, maybe she should stop putting herself on display.”
Zayan’s stomach twisted.
Elina. His father was talking about Elina.
Captain Emberwing’s voice thundered back, each word shaking with fury: “She’s a child, Kaeo. What is wrong with you?”
For the first time, Zayan saw the captain not as a respected elder, but as a man on the verge of striking his father. He stepped forward cautiously, torn.
“What’s going on?”
His father barely glanced at him. “Nothing that concerns you, Zayan.”
But Zayan wasn’t convinced. He turned toward the open water, only to catch a faint splash, a shadow darting beneath the waves. When he blinked, it was gone.
__________
The afternoon dragged at Clara’s house, heavy and uneventful. She sat on her bed, her phone glowing dim in her palm. No messages. Not from Monica. Not from Annalise.
She tapped the screen, sighed, and whispered to herself, “Probably busy with training.”
Her chest tightened at the thought knowing full well her mother would never let her near the swimming school again. Not after… everything.
Loneliness pressed in. Finally, she scrolled to Miranda’s name and hit call.
The line clicked almost instantly.
“Clara!” Miranda’s voice burst through, bright and eager. “Clara! I was just thinking of you. How are you feeling? Your mom said you weren’t well.”
Clara’s throat closed for a moment. She forced a small laugh. “I’m fine. Really.”
But her tone was too flat, her pause too long.
“You don’t sound fine.” Miranda’s voice softened, but worry lingered underneath.
Clara fiddled with a loose thread on her blanket, her pulse quickening. “I just… needed rest, that’s all.”
A silence stretched between them, not awkward but heavy. Miranda chewed her lip on the other end. She wanted to ask. Needed to ask. But blurting it out felt cruel, like poking a bruise.
Still, the words slipped out in a careful whisper:
“Clara… have you noticed anything… strange?”
Clara froze. Her stomach knotted. She answered too quickly, her voice sharp: “No. Nothing.”
Miranda’s heart sank. She could hear the tremor in Clara’s voice, the one that said she’s hiding something. But Miranda swallowed the thought. Maybe pushing her now would only make things worse.
“Oh,” Miranda said lightly, forcing a smile into her tone. “That’s good, then. I’m glad you’re okay.”
They lingered a little longer in shallow conversation before the call ended, leaving Miranda staring at her phone, unease prickling at her skin.
A second later, she dialed Beyoncé.
“Hey,” she whispered when Beyoncé picked up.
The familiar sing-song voice came through in a hushed tone: “Hi, gorgeous. Miss me already?”
Miranda rolled her eyes, half smiling despite herself. “Of course I do. I need to talk to you.”
Beyoncé groaned dramatically. “If this is about the mermaid thing again...”
“It is.” Miranda cut in, lowering her voice.
“Listen. I’ve been digging. There’s this name that keeps coming up, an explorer and scientist named Jeremy Clinton. Back in 1989 he claimed he saw… women. Strange women. In a cave. On Queen Marabella. Everyone called him crazy and…”
Beyoncé sat up straighter, the teasing gone. “And?”
“He vanished not long after.”
Beyoncé was quiet for a moment. Then her voice turned uneasy. “That’s… creepy. But people disappear all the time. Think it’s connected to us?”
“I don’t know,” Miranda whispered. “It feels connected. Like we’re not the first.”
Beyoncé exhaled, softer this time. “If that’s true… what happened to the ones before us?”
The question sent a shiver racing down Miranda’s spine. She had no answer. Only the sound of her own heartbeat, loud in the silence.
The silence that followed stretched tight as wire. Then Beyoncé let out a shaky laugh. “Miranda, this is insane. Do you know what this would do to me? To my career? I can’t just turn into some mer creature. I have shoots, contracts…”
Miranda’s voice was steady, but her hands trembled. “I don’t care about being a mermaid, Beyoncé. I just want to understand what’s happening to us.”
Miranda exhaled hard. “I called Clara earlier.”
Beyoncé perked up. “And? How is she?”
“She said she’s fine.” Miranda’s voice dipped with doubt. “Too fine. Almost like she was hiding something.”
Beyoncé tilted her head. “Hiding it? From us?”
“Yes.” Miranda’s voice was quiet but certain.
Beyoncé was quiet a bit. “Or maybe she really is fine. Not all of us are going to feel things the same way.” She hummed, relieved. “Good. That’s one less person panicking.”
Miranda leaned forward, chewing her lip. “That’s what I thought too… but it still feels strange. Think about it. Something happened to all of us. Why would she be the only one spared? What if she’s just pretending to be fine?”
Beyoncé hesitated, then exhaled slowly.
“Okay, but what if there’s a reason? Annalise and Monica have known her their whole lives. If they haven’t told Clara what’s happening, maybe it’s because they don’t think she’s ready to hear it. Maybe… they’re trying to protect her.”
Miranda’s brows knit. “Protect her? By lying to her?”
“It’s not lying,” Beyoncé argued gently. “It’s waiting. If they feel she can’t handle it yet, maybe we should trust them. They know her better than we do.”
Miranda crossed her arms, restless. “That doesn’t make it right. Clara deserves the truth. She has a right to know.”
Beyoncé fell silent for a moment, then sighed. “Maybe. But it’s not our place. If Monica and Annalise decided to wait, then we respect that.”
Miranda’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hated the logic but couldn’t argue with it.
- Writer
