“And after a year,” Luce went on, forcing the words out, “he tried to rape me.”

Her father let out a sharp cry, but he didn’t say anything at first. His eyes were grief-stricken, wide and wavering. She could see his expression jarring between disbelief and fury. “He what?” His voice was a croak.

“He tried . . . to rape me. Peter did. On the cliffs, on that path that you take as a shortcut back from town? He shoved me down, and he started going under my clothes. That’s why . . . I know you don’t understand it, Dad, okay? But that’s why I changed. Into what I am now.” But as Luce said it she realized that wasn’t the only reason she’d changed.

It had also been because she was so sure her father was dead. If she had had any hope at all that he might still come back someday, she would have clung to her humanity no matter what it cost her.

It had all been a mistake, and maybe she could never take it back.

Realizing that did make her feel like she wasn’t necessarily responsible for fighting on behalf of the mermaids after all. At least maybe it wasn’t her biggest responsibility.

“I’ll . . .” Something dark was coming into her father’s eyes. It was like watching the shape of something huge and dangerous rising to the surface of deep water. “I’ll kill him. My little girl . . . when she didn’t have anyone else . . .”

“You’re talking about me like I’m not here,” Luce pointed out. “It’s not your fault that Peter . . . I missed you so much, but I always knew it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want to leave me.” Suddenly Luce understood how much emotion she’d been keeping crushed down, buried inside her chest. It had been the only way she could keep going, doing what she had to do. But now . . . Tears had started to curve around her cheeks, and he reached toward her and slowly brushed one away. It only made Luce cry harder, but she still tried to smile. “I like being a mermaid. Really. You don’t have to worry.”

“A mermaid.” His tone was disbelieving again. “You can see why . . . I might have some trouble buying that this is really happening, yeah? Can’t hardly trust my own mind anymore. But even if I’m dreaming this, my God, you’re a vision.” He suddenly laughed, with the same warm softness Luce remembered. She was trembling as she leaned in and rested her head on his knee, ignoring the stink of his ragged furs. He gazed down, lightly running one hand over her hair. “Luce,” he said after a while.

Luce fought down a sob of relief. “Yes.”

He seemed confused again. “Luce. For real? My . . . How the hell did you get here, though?”