She let go, opening her eyes under the water. At first, all she saw was blackness, but then a figure emerged. It was a girl with milky-white skin and buttery-blond hair. Light emanated from behind her, creating an eerie halo. She swam up to Spencer deftly until she was so close their faces were almost touching.
It was only then that Spencer realized it was Ali. She was here, somehow. Maybe she’d brought this storm.
“Go away!” Spencer screamed out, extending her hands toward the girl. But just like that, Ali dissolved into a thousand water molecules, into nothingness. And seconds later, all Spencer saw was nothingness, too.
“Spencer. Spencer.”
Spencer swam up to consciousness. A circle of white nearly blinded her, and she covered her eyes. Then a silhouette appeared. All at once, she remembered the mermaid in the water—Ali.
“Leave me alone!” Spencer screamed, thrashing her arms. But the person standing over her wasn’t Ali, but her father. He looked sick with worry.
And then she remembered what really happened: the storm, Emily’s note, chasing Emily into the waves.
Spencer stared down at herself as everything rushed back. She was no longer struggling in the ocean. In fact, she was wearing a hospital gown and lying in bed with a bright light over her head. A monitor beeped steadily a few feet away.
She shakily ran her hand over her hair. It was completely dry, crusty with salt. She tried to use the other hand, but couldn’t move it. She heard a clanking sound and looked over. She was handcuffed to the bed. “W-what’s going on?”
“You’re at a hospital in Philadelphia,” Mr. Hastings said. “You were pulled out of the ocean a few hours ago.”
Someone else appeared over her. It was a woman in a police uniform. “Miss Hastings?” she said sternly. “I’m Lieutenant Agossi with the Philadelphia bureau. You were not supposed to leave the state, Miss Hastings. What were you doing in New Jersey? Did you have a liaison who was helping you to escape?”
Spencer’s mind felt clouded. “W-where are my friends?” she whispered. “Where’s Emily? Is she okay?”
“Miss Marin and Miss Montgomery were escorted home to await the start of the trial,” the officer said. “Now, are you going to answer my question?”
She glanced at her father, who was peering at her curiously. Surely he had questions about what Spencer was doing in New Jersey, too, especially after he’d gotten them clearance to visit Nick in prison. She’d told him they wanted to visit Nick to get closure, but her father was way too smart to buy that.
Then she realized what the officer had left out. “What about Emily?” she whispered, her gaze flicking from the officer to her father. “Did they rescue her? Is she here, too?”
A strange look came over Mr. Hastings’s face. He was about to say something, but then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s your mom,” he told Spencer. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared through the door.
Spencer looked at the officer. “Is Emily okay?” she asked again.
The officer glanced at the walkie-talkie on her belt. “It was wrong of you to go to New Jersey, Miss Hastings,” she said robotically. “For the duration of the trial, you’ll have to wear a tracking bracelet. You’ll have to forfeit all your identification. You will not be permitted to drive.”
Spencer’s heart pounded, and a horrible feeling seized her body. This wasn’t right. Why wasn’t anyone answering her? She sat up in bed as best as the handcuffs allowed. “What. Happened. To. Emily?”
The officer pointedly cut her gaze away. Feeling sick, Spencer grabbed her arm. “Please,” she growled. “If you know something, you have to tell me.”
The officer yanked her arm from Spencer’s grasp. “Miss Hastings,” she said sharply. “Do not touch me. You don’t want to be sedated, do you?”
Spencer felt wild. “Why won’t you tell me what happened to Emily?” she shrieked.
Suddenly, the door swung open. “Is she awake?” a male voice asked.
The cop turned, looking relieved. “Yes. And she’s very agitated.”
“Would you mind stepping out? I’ll speak with her.”
Spencer frowned. There was something oddly familiar about the doctor’s voice. But certainly it was just her mind playing tricks—her brain was still messed up from the near drowning, right? She buzzed with anger—why the hell wouldn’t anyone tell her about Emily?
The doctor stepped over to her. When he smiled, it was a smile Spencer knew all too well. Her jaw dropped open. Her eyes canvassed him up and down. And then, to be absolutely certain, she checked the ID clipped to his jacket pocket. WREN KIM, it said in bold letters. RESIDENT.
Wren as in the Wren she’d stolen from Melissa. Wren as in the first boy she’d slept with, maybe the first boy she’d ever loved.
“It’s nice to see you again, Spencer,” Wren said in his familiar British accent. “How are you feeling?”
A tiny squeak escaped from Spencer’s mouth. This didn’t feel real. None of this felt real.
She had a million questions for Wren—and was immediately barraged by a million memories. But suddenly, none of it felt pertinent. There was something she really, really needed to know that blotted out anything else. She took a breath and looked into Wren’s eyes. “I’m fine,” she said in a clipped voice. “But I need to know what happened to Emily,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please tell me. Is she . . .”