Yes, Alex had a hunch that Gemma was a siren, and Harper was inclined to think there was something to that, but she didn’t even know what that meant. In her spare time, Harper was still looking up everything she could on sirens and mythology in general, but she hadn’t found anything particularly helpful.

In fact, most of the information she’d read would contradict information she’d read earlier. A lot of the texts seemed to assume that the sirens were already dead, having been killed when a ship sailed past without stopping to hear the siren song.

None of it made sense, and none of it brought her any closer to Gemma. In the end, everything she’d done felt like busywork. The hard truth was that she wasn’t helping her sister, and she had no idea how to.

“So, what?” Marcy asked. “Are you just giving up, then?”

“Of course I’m not giving up.” Harper roughly shoved a book onto the shelf. “I’ll never give up.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Marcy asked.

“Why do you even care?” Harper snapped.

Her legs ached from the way she’d been crouching, so she stood and turned back to face the desk. The bookcases in the kids’ section only came up to Harper’s waist, and she stared over them at Marcy, who blinked at Harper from behind thick-rimmed glasses.

“You’re my friend,” Marcy said, sounding surprised by Harper’s tone. “She’s your sister. I want to help.”

“So your plan to help is to bitch about everything we do all the time?” Harper asked. “Because that’s all I ever see you doing.”

“What’s your problem?” Marcy sat up straighter. “I know I’m not the greatest in these situations, but at least I’m trying to help. I’m doing the best I can.”

“So am I, Marcy!” Harper yelled. The few library patrons turned to look at her, but she didn’t care. “I’m trying and I’m trying, and it doesn’t matter! I’m not doing anything to help anybody!”

“I am sorry that you can’t find her,” Marcy said. “I truly am. But it’s not my fault.”

“I know!” Harper started shouting again, then softened. “I’m sick of all this.” She let out a deep breath to fight back a sob. “I just want to know that she’s okay. I want her to come home.”

The fight had gone out of her, and she leaned back against the shelf behind her. She fought back tears, and wiped at the few that managed to fall.

“I feel like this is the time I’m supposed to come over and hug you,” Marcy said from where she sat behind the desk. “But I’m not really the hugging type. Plus, the sunburn.”