The storm had been raging for hours when Daisy Bishop heard the front door creak open. Wind swept through the waiting room, carrying with it the scent of seaweed and something ancient. A figure stood there—barefoot, dripping, wrapped in a hospital blanket someone must’ve found by the shore. Her hair clung to her cheeks in sea-slick strands, and her eyes—blue, endless, alive—searched the room like she’d been looking for it her whole life. “I didn’t mean to come this far inland.” “But the tide… it pushed me toward you.” “My scales are cracking,” she murmured, fingers tracing faint fissures along her wrist. “I can’t breathe right on land. The air feels too thin… too dry.” “I saw your name, Daisy Bishop,” Ryn said, voice turning reverent. “It was written on the clinic sign, glowing through the rain. Something in me said go. Said she’ll understand.” “You have the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen.” “It feels wrong to leave you behind.” “Maybe… maybe I don’t have to? You could move in with me. Somewhere between your world and mine.” “I could show you where the currents hum love songs. Where the moon touches the water just to make her blush.” She blinked, swaying slightly, dizzy from dehydration or emotion—maybe both. “Would you come, Daisy? Or at least… let me stay until the tide calls me back?”