Chapter 212
Wake stays on the deck to speak with Tyler and Tai. Meanwhile, I retreat to my cabin on the ship, desperate for a moment to shower and change before the meeting. The sensation of fresh water running over my skin, the weight of the sea rinsing away, is almost overwhelming.
I stand under the spray longer than necessary, letting the heat soak into my muscles, washing away the fatigue that clings to me. When I finally step out, the ship rocks gently beneath my feet, a reminder that even though I'm back on the surface, I’m still tethered to the sea.
I pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, marveling at the way the fabric clings to my dry skin. The simplicity of wearing real clothes again, of feeling the soft cotton instead of the constant slick resistance of water, sends a strange wave of nostalgia through me.
Then there's the undeniable thrill of gravity, of being properly grounded again. The moment I sink onto the bed, the weight of my own body pressing into the mattress, it feels foreign and comforting all at once. And then—wifi.
I spot the laptop sitting on the desk, its sleek screen a stark contrast to the world I’ve been immersed in. Curiosity and a twinge of longing drive me forward, and before I can overthink it, I open the device and log into my email. The moment my inbox loads, my stomach drops.
"Checking In"
"Wondering Where You Are"
"Really Starting To Worry, Phoebe"
There are dozens of them, messages spanning weeks, each one more frantic than the last. The timestamps remind me just how much time has passed since I last contacted them. It feels like a different life, one where I was just a grad student on an expedition, not someone who has fought monsters, dethroned tyrants, and—oh yeah—apparently become some kind of demi-goddess.
I drop my head into my hands and groan. My parents. How the hell did I forget about my parents?!
Except…I didn’t forget. They had become another casualty of stress-induced anti-object permanence—out of sight, out of mind. Because, honestly, what the hell was I supposed to tell them?
Sorry, I couldn't call. I was busy outrunning an evil megacorp, saving the mermaids, and oh yeah, becoming a demi-goddess. Don't worry, Grandma was with me! Also, I'm married now. Kinda. No, you can't meet him, he lives 40,000 leagues under the sea.
Just imagining that conversation makes me want to throw up. But keeping them in the dark isn’t fair either. I owe them something. I just have to be…careful.
Taking a deep breath, I click the video call button. My heart pounds as the screen rings, each second stretching unbearably long. And then, suddenly, they’re there. My mom gasps, immediately bursting into tears. My dad, silent and stoic as ever, grips the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles turn white.
Through sobs, my mom chokes out, "Phoebe! Oh my god, we thought—we thought—"
Dad takes over, his voice rough. "We expected to hear from you weeks ago. When we didn’t, we called the university and—"
He falters. His voice thickens, and he clears his throat. "Phoebe… the university couldn’t establish contact with your expedition. They declared you all missing."
A cold weight settles in my stomach.
"Phoebe… we… the world thinks you’re dead."
I squeeze my eyes shut. My brain skids to a halt. Not because I care what the world thinks—I couldn’t exactly picture myself returning to school as a regular grad student after all this—but because now, knowing that my parents had spent weeks thinking I was dead…
I owe them an explanation. A halfway decent one. But I can’t think of a single thing to say.
Finally, I manage, "I'm not dead, obviously, but… there was an incident during the trip."
My mom inhales sharply. "When? Where?! What happened?"
Dad’s voice turns sharp. "Where are you now?"
My palms sweat. My heart pounds. This was a mistake. No—it wasn’t. I should have done this sooner. But now that I’m here, I feel like I’ve reached the end of a train of thought only to find nothing waiting for me.
Give me a minute, I say, standing up so fast the chair scrapes against the floor. I don’t give them time to protest before rushing from the room, ignoring their frantic voices calling after me.
I run through the ship, my breath coming in sharp bursts, until I reach my grandmother’s study. I don’t knock—I just burst in. Cora, staring pensively into a fireplace, jumps in surprise.
"I fucked up," I gasp.
Her frown deepens. "What? What happened?"
"I need you to come with me."
Cora’s brows knit together. "Do you need me to find Wake?"
"No!" I snap. "I need you to come handle this for me, Grandma. Please!"
Understanding dawns in her eyes, quickly followed by reluctant resignation. She sighs, but nods and follows me back to my cabin.
The moment I usher her inside, I point at the laptop. The screen still shows my parents, their frantic voices spilling from the speakers. My mother is mid-sentence, her voice raw with emotion.
"—we were about to call the authorities again! Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?!"
The second Cora walks into the frame, the chaos in their expressions explodes.
"Cora?" my dad exclaims, stunned.
My mom’s tear-streaked face twists in shock, her sorrow evaporating into rage. "Mom?!"
The silence is razor-thin before my mom slams her hands on the table. "What the hell are you two up to?!"
Cora straightens, her mouth pressed into a firm line, but there’s no denying the way her fingers flex slightly, as if she’s bracing for impact. My dad looks equally stunned, while my mother looks ready to fly through the screen and throttle us both.
I press my fingers against my temple. Yep. Definitely should have thought this through a little more. And now? Now, I just have to survive this conversation.
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