Chapter 49
Dad comes into the kitchen just as I’m sitting down to eat breakfast. He looks exhausted, like he’s been up all night. His eyelids are drooping.
I know he’s worried—about me, and because we need a new boat, and because it’s going to be hard to find enough work. As if that weren’t enough, he has a concussion. I keep glancing at the bandage on his forehead.
He sits down, and I slide the cereal box and yogurt carton over to him.
“Do you have everything you need?” Dad asks as he pours yogurt into his bowl. He sounds so very tired, and he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s using my old plastic bowl with dancing frogs on it, the one Mom used to pack for me when I went on field trips as a little kid.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good.” He’s practically falling asleep right there at the table.
“Are you okay, Dad?” I ask.
He says he’s fine, but I don’t believe him.
“Have a good day at school,” he murmurs as I pick up my schoolbag and put on my rubber boots.
?sterman is late today, which almost never happens. We make brief, hasty stops at all the islands. Hanna is out sick, but Isabelle is better. She sits on the other side of the boat from me.
As we cross open water, I think about what it would be like to climb overboard and let myself sink into the sea. I bring my fingers to the scars on my neck, gently feel the raised skin.
I’m so deep in thought that I nearly jump out of my skin when Rasmus suddenly plops down beside me.
“Oh, sorry, did I startle you? Didn’t mean to.” He blows on his fingers. I’ve noticed he always does that when he’s cold.
It’s freezing, and Rasmus’s cheeks are bright red. That never happens to me in the cold. I never get sunburned either.
Is that something I’ve inherited from my people? I can hardly bring myself to think the word. It makes it too real.
The merfolk.
He doesn’t know about any of this, and it’s becoming a barrier between us. What will he think when he finds out the truth? That I’m not really human, I’m some kind of freak from the depths of the ocean?
A changeling.
I stay quiet. I can’t think of anything to say that would sound normal.
Rasmus notices this, of course.
“What’s up?” he says quietly so that only I can hear. “Did something happen?”
We’re approaching school. The waves lap anxiously at the waterfront where we’re about to dock. Foam fizzes on the crests.
“Can we talk at lunch?” I say, avoiding the question.
I jump ashore the moment we reach the dock.
“Where?” Rasmus asks.
“At the edge of the woods. Behind the gym, where no one can see us.”