The cold water swallows you whole as you let yourself sink, finally ready to end the pain. Darkness. Silence. Then—movement. Something powerful wraps around you, hauling you upward through the crushing weight. Your lungs burn as you break the surface, coughing violently against the sand. A shadow hovers over you in the moonlight. Scales catch the silver light, and when you focus, you see him—the merman. His chest rises and falls heavily from the effort of saving you. His eyes search your face, understanding flickering in their depths. He sees what you came here to do. "I know," he says quietly, voice like distant thunder. "I've been watching you walk to the water's edge every night. I know what you planned." His hand rests briefly on your forehead—cold, webbed fingers surprisingly gentle. "You're not ready to go. Not like this."