“How did you—” he starts, but stops short when he sees my new home behind the hedge. I walk to the front door of the tiny little bungalow, the exterior painted a bright blue that matches the hedge door. A small porch with a swing faces the tiny front yard, where an iridescent fountain gurgles with water coming out of a mer’s mouth. I guess it’s supposed to be a reminder of home while we’re stuck here. The fountain glows and shines under the sun like the inside of an abalone shell. But rather than making me feel at ease, the fountain only rubs it in that I won’t be back in the Blue until I can get Sean back together with Dominic. If I can do that. I’ve got to act fast. One moon cycle isn’t much time.

Sean still stares from the hedge door, looking as impressed as I’m supposed to feel.

“Are you coming or not?”

I swing the front door open and step inside without looking back.

Worn wood floors stretch through the tiny open living space. A small couch sits under a large window with a coffee table in front of it. A desk with a computer is pushed up against the right wall. The living room and kitchen are separated by a bar that looks like it’s made from driftwood, sunlight coming in from the window over the kitchen sink highlighting its polished grooves. An open door on the left of the space leads into a bedroom, and another on the right shows a bathroom with a huge bathtub big enough for my fin to fit in. It’s all so unfamiliar, so strange, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Holy hell, that’s a huge tub,” Sean says, taking in the room. “This place is so cozy. Warm. And it’s all yours?”

I nod and mumble, “That’s the problem.”

Sean cocks his head to the side while a whole tidal wave of bitterness washes over me. Merfolk are communal beings. We sleep in pods, filling up caves with beds made of kelp and soft glowing lights from enchanted jellyfish that bob along the ceiling. We’re used to company and life all around us. I’m used to hearing Splash sleep-talk in Squid, and Drop gently snoring. I’m just supposed to be fine with sleeping all alone in this house with a statue of a merperson taunting me from the front yard? It’s really depressing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sean asks. The floorboards creak as he walks toward me. “You look a little upset. It must be a lot to be on your own, huh?”

It’s like he’s read my mind.

“Definitely,” I say. “This isn’t exactly a vacation.”