A sharp voice jolted me out of my thoughts, dragging me back to the present. "Faye! Lobster and bubble tea for table twelve!"

I blinked, my surroundings slowly coming back into focus. Not surprisingly, I'd spaced. Again. The head cook at the Bronze Mermaid, Leith, was staring at me pointedly.

I looked at him sheepishly, his deep-set hazel eyes meeting my wide brown ones. Only a few years older than me, Leith had been the head cook for almost a month and I was amazed at how well he seemed to be handling it. Our boss, a cranky old merman named Calder, had been training him for months to take the position.

"Yeah, I'm on it," I finally said, swimming behind the counter and grabbing the tray, balancing it precariously on the palm of my hand. I'd been working here for almost two years now, and it had taken me nearly that long to be able to manage to get the tray to its respective table without its contents ending up on the ground.

I carried the tray to the table, smiled at the customers as I delivered their food, then zipped back to the counter. I peeked out one of the many windows dotting the restaurant's walls, noting the position of the sun. Yes! Almost quitting time.

One of the other waitresses, a bubbly, cheerful mermaid named Waverly grinned at me, her blue eyes sparkling. "What's up? Your head's in the silt again."

Aside from being the only other young waitress at the restaurant, she was also my closest friend. We'd met soon after I'd started working here, bonding over hobbies (swimming and watching cometball) and family issues. Her parents divorced when she was only two, leaving her mom to raise her and her younger sister alone. Despite growing up without any knowledge of her father, she still remained bubbly and cheerful.

She lived a few leagues away from the palace, but not so far that it prevented us from seeing each other almost every day outside of work. We almost always had dinner together, either at the palace or at her house.

Shooting her a mock-annoyed glare, I smiled. "Yeah, sorry." She wasn't wrong, though. I hadn't been able to focus on anything for more than a few minutes all day.

Hearing that note in my voice, her eyes softened. She put a hand on my arm, worry flashing across her face. "Is everything okay? It's not Drew or your parents, right?"

I quickly shook my head, brushing off her concern. "No, no. Drew, Mom, and Dad are fine. Drew's been busy with cometball and school, just like I have with school and work. I... I'm just tired, that's all."

The words left a sour taste in my mouth and a knot in my stomach. I was tired—just not in the way she most likely assumed. While it was true that work and school left me so exhausted most days that I barely managed to eat anything before I fell asleep, this was a different kind of tired.

I'd never had nightmares before, but lately, they'd been haunting me. Even through the heavy exhaustion that seemed to seep into my very bones, I saw flashes of faces. A glimpse of red hair. Heard the unmistakable sound of singing.

The red hair was obviously my birth mom, but why would I be thinking of her? She died when I was barely a year old, I think. I don't remember anything about her. My adoptive parents had been really forthcoming about any questions I might have had about her, but I still wished I could find out more.

If anyone knew the most about her, it would be Drew, but I hated to bring her up in front of him. He was in such a good place—we both were—for the first time in so long. He was truly happy with cometball and was doing great in school; I loved my job and school had been okay. If anything, the recent nightmares were the only things I had to worry about.

Waverly's voice pulled me out of my thoughts once more. "I'm going to clock out and head home. You coming? I could drop you off at the palace." A teasing glint entered her eyes as those two words left her mouth.

I lowered my eyes, fighting the blush that rose to my cheeks. While it was true that my adoptive parents were the king and queen of Pelathas, I didn't use their status (my own as a princess, or Drew's as prince) for personal gain. As far as my brother and I were concerned, we were just two more citizens of Pelathas, like anyone else. I clung to that status, desperately wanting a somewhat normal life.

I nodded, untying my apron and following her into the back room. We both clocked out at the same time, laughing as our hands bumped against each other. "See you later, Leith," I called out as we left through the back entrance.

He poked his head out of the kitchen, sweat gleaming on his forehead. "Be safe. See you both later."

As we were getting ready to leave, I noticed a scrap of paper on the counter closest to the back door. I would have dismissed it, assumed it had been discarded by Calder, Leith, or Waverly. But curiosity quickly won out and I peeked. It was one word, hastily written but in an elegant-type script.

Siren. I picked it up and turned it over, not sure what I'd been expecting. I looked around, but no one was even glancing at me. It wasn't signed, nor did it have my name, but somehow, I knew it was for me.

Waverly said her own goodbyes, then we left, swimming out into the fresh water. When we'd left the restaurant far behind, she paused, turning around to face me. "What is it? Do I have something on my face?" I asked, touching my cheek self-consciously.

She gave me another knowing look. "You ready to tell me what's really going on with you?" Raising her eyebrows, she stared at me. I knew what she was doing—we'd been friends long enough for me to recognize her tricks—but that also meant that I was well-versed in avoiding them.

I opened my mouth—presumably to answer her question—but at the last minute, my gaze darted ahead. "Yes! Hopefully, dinner's still being served."

Rolling her eyes, she grinned as we approached the palace. The two guards at the front—mermen who'd been there since before my parents had taken the throne—merely nodded at us before opening the large front doors. "Your Highness," one of them said, nodding to me, then Waverly.

I gave them a smile in return. "Merrick, Nerio. Please get yourselves some food before going home tonight, okay? You both work too hard."

The one who'd spoken first—Merrick, a merman not much older than Dad—bowed his head in thanks. Nerio did the same, his brown eyes bright against his tan skin. "Of course, Your Highness. Thank you."

Apparently, Dad's parents had known Merrick and Nerio's parents for years before they came to work at the palace. They came from a well-off family—not poor, but not palace-rich either. Both mermen had dreamed of working at the palace one day and when the jobs came available, they were the first to sign up.

They were both kind-hearted, gentle mermen who genuinely loved their jobs. I gave them one last smile before slipping inside. Even though I'd been living here for years now, the beauty of it blew me away every time. We swam into the dining hall, giving polite smiles and nods to anyone who crossed our paths.

The smell of freshly-cooked shrimp and lobster made my stomach growl. I grinned sheepishly at Waverly as we swam to our table. "Faye! Waverly!" Mom's voice carried from the head of the table as she rose to greet us.

She looked beautiful as always in her signature black dress with red accents. Dad was dressed similarly, but with a suit in lieu of a dress. I gently kissed her cheek, smiling as I did the same with Dad.

"How was work, girls?" Dad asked as we settled down to eat. I drained my cup of bubble tea, massaging my temples. Absentmindedly, my hand slipped into my pocket, fingers grazing the note tucked away. My hand trembled slightly; my heart skipped a beat.

That feeling of foreboding returned in full force. "Fine, Dad," I managed, my heart in my throat. Conversation continued around me, but I barely managed more than a vague nod or one-word response.

Drew was all smiles, still riding the high from their recent win. The Narwhals had beat the Bullsharks 23-0. From what I'd heard from Mom, he'd scored the winning goal. I grinned at him, so glad that he was happy.

That flash of red hair reappeared in my mind; I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of singing. But from what I could tell, no one else heard it. Instead of a melody, though, it was only five words. "Siren call, where are you?"

A shiver ran down my spine as my smile faded. My breathing became loud in my ears; drowning out any snatches of conversation around the table. The words flowed through my very bones; thunderous and wild, free and dangerous. I almost answered aloud. I'm here.

When Waverly's voice drew me back to the present, it was only then that I realized everyone was staring at me. "Faye? Is everything okay?"

Mom and Dad had worried expressions on their faces, which could only mean that I had accidentally answered aloud. I forced a smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

They thankfully let the matter drop, but I could feel the various glances they threw my way through the remainder of the meal. Waverly carefully grabbed my hand under the table, squeezing gently. The concern in her eyes was almost enough for me to unravel.

Indeed, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Hands shaking, I suddenly rose from the table, breathing shakily. I felt like I couldn't get enough water into my lungs. I turned around and zoomed out of the dining hall, the shakiness giving way to full-on tremors.

Only when I had returned to my suite and shut the door behind me did I allow the sobs to come in full force. Great, heaving gasps punctuated the silence, interrupted only by my quiet sobbing. I'd never had a panic attack before—nor had there ever been any family history of them.

My gasping sobs had been replaced by quiet whimpers, but I didn't dare open the door. When the voice, quiet and concerned, spoke up from the other side, I didn't so much as breathe too loudly. "Faye? It's Mom, honey. I'm so sorry. I'm here for you if you need anything. I love you, sweetheart."

Her words broke me. I threw open the door, meeting her concerned gaze. I was terrified, worried, anxious—but when she drew me into her arms, I immediately started crying again. She stroked my hair as I sobbed, her tight grip never loosening.

I laid awake later that night, my head throbbing from intense stress and tears. I knew that I should tell Mom and Dad—maybe they knew something. But every time I tried to make the words come, they tangled up in my throat, almost choking me. Despite the tumultuous emotions swirling around inside me, I drifted off to sleep quickly, the weight of earlier crashing into me.

Read and review!