Her eyes manage to get bigger, and it takes serious effort to not fall directly into them.

“What painting?” Her eyebrows lower. “You keep mentioning that.”

I smile at her joke, but then I realize she isn’t joking. She’s serious. Confusion floods my brain. “The one in the upper bedroom. It’s hanging over the bed.”

She pulls her ponytail over her shoulder, her eyes studying mine. “I didn’t see it.”

My stomach plummets. “But… it looks exactly like you. You haven’t seen it?” Desperation makes the end of my sentence rise. She has to know what the painting is, because if she doesn’t, then how does all this connect?

Her expression has turned to confusion, the reality of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. She doesn’t know about the painting. Which means Willow isn’t a sign from the universe; she’s a girl who simply looks quite a bit like a painting.

Reality sucker punches me, sending me spinning. I am ridiculous. Did I really think she’d point me to my mom somehow? I should know better than to do that by now. This isn’t the way life works. This isn’t the way my life works.

Did I really think all it would take for my life to change was a few coincidences? Willow obviously isn’t going to lead me to my mom. She isn’t even a sign that things are going to get better. She’s just a girl. A girl whose eyes are now dark with concern.

“Mason, are you okay?” She takes a step toward me.

“Fine.” But I’m not fine. My heart feels like it’s turning to liquid, in danger of seeping out of my body onto the pavement. How am I this stupid? It isn’t even stupidity, it’s desperation. My eyes prick with tears, which is unbelievably embarrassing. “My mom… she had this thing about mermaids, and she used to tell me—”

What am I saying? I cut myself off quickly.

Willow is watching me very closely now, and maybe I’m imagining it, but her suspicion is melting into something softer. Concern? Pity? Yeah, I definitely can’t do the pity thing. My feet begin backing up. “Sorry to bother you. This was…” Stupid? Embarrassing? Painful, my brain fills in helpfully. “I’ll see you later.”

I turn, then immediately begin gaining on the sidewalk, each step bigger than the last. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

Then I hear her light footsteps behind me, coming at nearly a run. “Mason, what about your mom?”