14.Coming Clean

14. Coming Clean

Samson stands in the doorway and places a hand on my arm. "Hey, just yell if you need me. I'll be nearby."

I nod, though I'm barely aware of anything as he shuts the door and leaves my mother and me alone in the cabin. Samson is the last to go. Part of me wants to ask him to stay for support, but it seems better to have this conversation alone.

"Argyle," Mom says. "We need to talk."

I know she's right. I just have no idea what to say.

…Where exactly is Samson even supposed to go? Is he going to wander off and get lost in the large forest around us? With his muscles and his pyromaniac tendencies, he can definitely handle any lurking creatures… as long as he doesn't burn the forest down.

Maybe he’s simply going to linger outside the cabin. There isn’t anything else nearby, and it’s not like he can plunge back beneath the waves like the others. If he’s just going to stand there, there’s little point in granting us privacy; he’ll likely hear everything. Then again, I doubt he’d eavesdrop with his ear pressed against the door.

Will he cover his ears and hum ‘lalala’ to block us out? I'd like to see that.

"Argyle, please." Mom's quiet voice draws my attention. "There's so much I need to say to you. I'm sorry."

My back bumps against the cabin door as I turn to her. Mom sits at the table, her small frame tense, hands twisting anxiously in her lap. Ever since I left the bay, I've been eager to come back and see her again. But everything I just learned makes it impossible to go to her.

"After what happened," she says. "We hid the truth and stopped trusting others. It seemed like the best decision to spare the younger generations the pain we felt. But with you away, I had time to think about how it wasn't the best decision for you. It left you with questions and conflict. I'm sorry."

I stare at her in disbelief. "That's what you're apologizing for? Even after you used my desire for a life on land as an excuse to send me away?”

“Yes.” She can only meet my eyes for a second, having the decency to look away.

“Are you sorry about that too?”

“…No.”

"You lied to me!" I shout. "I wasn't exiled. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I'd rather you be alive and hating me for the rest of a very long life than you perishing with the rest of us." Now she raises her head and looks at me defiantly as she straightens in her seat, resembling the powerful water nymph she truly is.

"There are only two paths forward,” she says. “Either we cleanse the bay or we perish. If the bay dies, we die too. But you aren't tethered here; your life essence isn't tied to this place." A mix of pride and sorrow crosses her features as she gazes at me. "You wouldn't have to give up your life. But if you knew we were fighting for our home and our lives, where else would you be? You wouldn't have gone to school. You'd be right here with us, willing to make that sacrifice."

She isn't wrong. I've been studying for quizzes and strolling through campus when my people have been struggling to survive and save their home. I feel like the worst nymph ever, oblivious to everything going on in the water where I grew up.

Everything has started to click into place. I wanted to live on land too and she made me think the nymphs were so against the idea that they exiled me. Her lie was terrible. It hurt me deeply and made me believe I wasn’t welcome in my own home… but she did it because she thought she was saving my life.

"I thought ‘exiling’ you was necessary,” she continues. “But causing you so much pain was the most agonizing thing I’ve ever done.”

"Were you ever going to tell me the truth?"

"If we succeeded. I'd send word and explain everything. I'd beg your forgiveness and ask you to understand."

"And if you failed?"

"Then you'd find out we were all gone and put it together. I prayed you'd see why I didn't want the same fate for you."

Mom stands from the table, approaching me slowly, unsure of her welcome. “I don’t regret my decision, but I hated hurting you. Do you hate me?"

She looks so small and unsure. I can’t help it. I give my mother a tight hug.

"No,” I answer honestly. “I’d never hate you. Even if I don’t agree with it, I understand why you lied.” With a deep breath, I untangle myself and put distance between us. “But I truly believed I was exiled. Those feelings aren’t going to disappear in a second. I just need some time."

My mother looks like I just told her she was exiled from the bay, effective immediately, yet she nods and lets me head to the door. Tears are welling in both our eyes, but I make it out of the cabin without letting them fall.

~

"Huh. I thought there was a passageway here," I say, staring at the cool stone underneath the cliffside. "The cove we can sleep in shouldn’t be far. This is the right direction... I think." I lead us onward, wishing I had asked one of the others to escort us.

Samson follows me quietly without protest. I find it hard to navigate during the silence, so I keep talking.

"Imps control most of the cliffs, including the coves below. I thought it had always been that way." Apparently, things were different when I was born. "Nymphs can visit land, provided it's nearby our water source, so we do have access to a few coves, caves, and… and I had no idea we once controlled the whole cliffside... when we had more members."

I shake those thoughts away. Samson still needs somewhere to sleep tonight.

"Sorry, I haven't been to the coves in ages. The only time any of us really use the coves is when the teens sneak out. None of them go as far as I did. They just sneak to the coves and pretend to be land dwellers since that's what counts as illicit and forbidden for the nymphs here. Guess teenagers are the same everywhere, even underwater. Interested in doing anything prohibited. Maybe I’m turned around. I haven't spent much time here since I was a teen."

"Hey, maybe we should stop for a minute."

"We're not there yet."

Samson doesn't argue with me, but when I keep walking, I stop hearing his footsteps behind me. I turn around to see he hasn't moved.

"A lot happened back there," he says. "If it were me, I'd probably be a human inferno right now. Maybe you need a second to process?"

I shake my head because I'd rather not think about any of it too closely right now. "Sorry. We came here to escape your family drama and dropped right into mine."

"We came here to ditch my dad and to see if your family is okay," he corrects. "I'm exactly where I want to be." He laughs, the sound off somehow. "Besides, our problems may not be completely unrelated."

“What’s that?”

Samson opens his mouth and then I see him think better of whatever he was going to say. "Nah, don't worry."

I laugh. "There's a human phrase I've never understood. Telling someone not to worry just means there's something to worry about."

"How about this? I promise that we'll talk about it tomorrow. Haven't we had enough excitement for one day?"

"Guess you're right." I sigh and slump against the cool surface of the cliff. "If we aren't talking, what are we doing now?"

"Let's breathe," he suggests.

"I don’t need to breathe."

"No, you don’t need to breathe underwater." Samson tilts his head quizzically. "Or you can breathe underwater? I have no idea. But you also have lungs that need oxygen while you're out here on solid ground."

Samson reaches out and pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me.

"Okay." It's impossible for me to protest when his arms circle me and support me. "Let’s breathe."

We hold each other close as we take deep, calming breaths together.

For so long, I thought nymphs despised humans because of old legends and superstitions. But now I understand that their fear and suspicion came from grief. They shut the rest of the world out while hurting and tried to go on, tried to keep the loss from the next generations. But the nymphs we lost still cast a shadow on everything going forward.

If we can save the bay and get through this, many things could change. Maybe it really will be possible to live both underwater and above ground. But for that to happen, the bay needs to survive.

And if there’s anything I can do to help, I need to be ready and not an emotional wreck. There will be time to process when everyone is safe.

But I can breathe.

When did Sorin Samson get so good at knowing what I need even before me? When did he become a key part of what I need? When did he transform into such an essential part of my life? I'm not sure.

I don’t worry about it. I just hold onto him and breathe.