WATER SPLASH : MERMAID ADVENTURE

THE SPACE BETWEEN SILENCE(10)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Southside Bar buzzed with vibrant energy, the crowded room alive with the thumping music from the speakers. The air was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol and perfume, while lively chatter blended seamlessly with the steady rhythm of the beat.

Zayan, dressed in his usual sharp but effortless style, leaned against the bar with a drink in hand, grinning as he scanned the crowd. His group of friends surrounded him, all caught up in their own conversations or dancing along to the music. He took a long sip of his drink before his eyes landed on Jace, who sat at a corner table, completely uninterested in the party unfolding around him.

“Jace, man, what are you doing?” Zayan called out, waving him over. “Come on, loosen up a little.”

Jace barely looked up from his drink. “You know this is not my thing,” he replied, his tone casual but firm.

Zayan scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re wasting a good night, my friend.”

As if on cue, a girl with bold eyeliner and a mischievous smile drifted toward Jace’s table. She leaned on the edge of it, her perfume cutting through the haze of the bar. “You look like you could use some company,” she teased, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Jace gave her a polite glance, then looked back down at his glass. “I’m good,” he said simply, his voice calm but dismissive.

Her smile faltered. She lingered a second longer, as if waiting for him to change his mind, but when it became clear he wouldn’t, she rolled her eyes and slipped back into the crowd.

Across the room, Zayan was already distracted by another girl who sauntered up with a playful grin, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Dance with me,” she said.

Zayan didn’t need to be asked twice. With a laugh, he set his drink down and pulled her onto the dance floor, spinning her in time with the flashing lights.

Meanwhile, Jace leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable as he watched the scene unfold. He wasn’t surprised when one of Zayan’s friends hurried over, panic etched across his face.

“Dude, you’re dead,” the friend muttered, tugging at Zayan’s arm.

Zayan frowned, still moving to the music. “What?”

“Your girlfriend. She was here. She saw you. And she left.”

That got his attention. He instantly pulled back from the girl he was dancing with, cursing under his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Zayan ran a hand through his hair, groaning as he fished out his phone. No missed calls. No texts. That silence was worse than anger, it meant she wasn’t planning to talk, not anytime soon.

By the time he trudged back to the table, Jace was waiting, swirling his drink with a smirk. “So,” Jace said, voice dry, “how’s that whole ‘not getting into trouble’ thing working out for you?”

Zayan shot him a glare but didn’t respond. He slumped into the chair beside him, staring at his phone. “She’s pissed, isn’t she?”

Jace chuckled. “Oh, definitely.”

For a moment, Zayan just sat there, drumming his fingers against the table. Then, with a heavy sigh, he stood. “Guess I should go after her.”

Jace raised his glass in mock salute. “Good luck with that.”

Zayan pushed through the crowd toward the exit. Jace watched him go, shaking his head. Some people never learned.

____

After dinner, Miranda sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the floor. She had barely touched her food and Mrs. Wesley noticed. Beyoncé had gone upstairs to shower, leaving Miranda alone with Mrs. Wesley.

Mrs. Wesley wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, then crossed the room and sat beside her. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just let the silence sit between them.

“I heard you left home after an argument,” she said finally, her voice calm but steady.

Miranda’s fingers tightened around her jeans. “Yeah,” she muttered.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Mrs. Wesley leaned forward, her elbows resting lightly on her knees.

Miranda gave a humorless laugh. “Not really.”

Mrs. Wesley studied her, then smiled faintly. “When Beyoncé was little, she once got so upset with me she refused to speak for an entire day.”

Miranda turned her head, curious despite herself. “What did you do?”

“I took her to the park and sat with her on a bench. I didn’t force her to talk…I just let her know I was there. Eventually, she opened up.”

“That’s different,” Miranda said quickly.

“Is it?” Mrs. Wesley asked softly. “You’re upset with your mom, aren’t you?”

Miranda’s jaw clenched. She wanted to say no, but the truth was written all over her face.

Mrs. Wesley lowered her voice. “It hurts when the people who are supposed to protect us… don’t.”

Miranda’s throat tightened. She looked away, blinking fast.

“But do you believe your mom loves you any less?”

Miranda scoffed. “If she loved me, she wouldn’t let him treat me like I don’t matter.”

Mrs. Wesley exhaled slowly, choosing her words. “Sometimes people don’t act out of lack of love, but out of fear. Fear of conflict. Fear of what might happen if they push back too hard.”

Miranda frowned. “So I’m just supposed to stay quiet?”

“No,” Mrs. Wesley said gently. “But fighting back doesn’t always mean yelling louder. Sometimes strength is knowing when and how to speak so that people actually listen.”

Miranda was quiet, her eyes fixed on the floor. For the first time that night, her shoulders dropped a little.

Mrs. Wesley gave her a small nod. “You don’t have to forgive right away. But don’t shut her out forever. When you’re ready, talk to your mom. For her, yes…but mostly for yourself.”

Miranda swallowed hard. She gave a small nod, then reached for her phone on the cushion beside her. Her thumb hovered over her mom’s name in the call log. She didn’t press it. Not yet.

But she didn’t turn the screen off either.

***

Miranda didn’t know if she was ready to talk to her mother yet. The thought of hearing her voice made her chest tighten, but there was also something unsettling about how much she had avoided her. Would speaking to her really change anything? Would it make the pain any less?

She leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, staring into the dim hallway. The silence pressed on her, heavy and unyielding. She wasn’t sure which hurt worse, keeping quiet or finally breaking it.

With a tired sigh, she pushed herself forward and headed to Beyoncé’s room. The door was slightly open, soft music drifting out.

Beyoncé sat on her bed, scrolling through her phone, but looked up as soon as Miranda stepped inside.

“How was the talk?” Beyoncé asked, setting her phone aside.

Miranda shrugged, moving to the edge of the bed. “She didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. But… I don’t know. Maybe she’s right.”

Beyoncé tilted her head. “About?”

Miranda picked at the hem of her shirt, her voice low. “Maybe I should talk to my mom. Even if it doesn’t fix anything, at least it’ll stop feeling like this huge weight on my chest.”

Beyoncé studied her quietly, then nodded. “You should do what feels right for you. If you’re not ready, that’s okay too.”

Miranda exhaled, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know what I’m ready for.”

For a moment, the silence stretched between them. Then Beyoncé grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her. “Well, at least you won’t have to overthink it tonight.”

Miranda caught it, raising an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

Beyoncé grinned. “Because I have a movie lined up, and you are watching it with me. No arguments.”

Miranda rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, but if it’s some cheesy romance, I’m leaving.”

Beyoncé laughed, already queuing up the movie. “I make no promises.”

For the first time in a while, Miranda felt a little lighter. Maybe tomorrow she’d figure things out. But for tonight, she’d let herself just be.

The movie began to play, its glow flickering across the room. Miranda watched absently, the story barely sinking in. She glanced at Beyoncé, who had propped herself up with a pillow but was already blinking slower and slower. Before the film was halfway through, her steady breathing gave her away, she had fallen asleep right there on the bed, the movie still rolling on.

Miranda shook her head softly, a small smile tugging at her lips again. The weight on her chest hadn’t disappeared, but in this moment, it felt a little less heavy.

As the night deepened, the house settled into quiet, soft breaths, rustling blankets, and the stillness of a world at rest.

The night moved quietly through each homes, carrying different weights into the silence. Clara slept soundly, the unanswered questions of the past days finally giving way to softer dreams. Annalise and Monica lay awake in different beds, the quiet pressing on them more than rest, each girl alone with the same fear she could not voice. Elina, lulled by thoughts of the ocean, surrendered last to sleep, the gentle silence of dolphins filling the spaces her worries might have taken.