The room settled into thick stillness. Fire popped once in the hearth. Eyes tracked Yve openly now—curious, wary, measuring. Not hostile. Not kind. Evaluating.
Yve felt it. She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers worrying the seam of her sleeve. She didn't look at the floor. She didn't meet anyone's stare for long.
Minutes stretched. Too long. Long enough for thoughts to sharpen.
Someone cleared a throat. Another adjusted their grip on a cup. No one volunteered the first question. No one wanted to own it.
Yve exhaled heavily.
The silence remained. Heavy. Expectant.
She spoke first, voice small. "Th-thank you… for the clothes."
Ava just nodded, lips pressed into a tight, soft line, stiff against the wall.
Yve cleared her throat, fingers fidgeting at the edge of her sleeves. "S-so… uh…" Her words faltered, breaking as they left her mouth.
Even now—after two hundred forty years, surviving storms, hunger, death—she froze under their gaze, more frightened than in any peril she had faced.
She drew a shaky breath, chest rising, then fell, trying to loosen the tension coiled there. Dylan's hands pressed gently to her shoulders—steady, grounding—offering strength without a word. The touch sparked courage.
She opened her mouth, ready to speak, when a small voice cut through the silence.
"Do… do you hurt people?" Tyler asked, his voice quiet but steady.
All heads snapped toward him. Tiny, wide-eyed, fearless—but adults stiffened, exchanging glances.
Yve blinked, managing a small, measured smile. "No," she said softly. "I don't hurt anyone… unless I must to survive."
Tyler tilted his head, hesitation in his eyes. "And… if someone tries to hurt you?"
The room froze. Adults' hands brushed weapons, paused. Even Dylan's jaw tightened slightly. Yve's gaze flicked to each of them in turn, calm but piercing.
"I don't strike first," Yve said. "But I don't run either."
The tension loosened fractionally. The adults realized the boy's questions weren't just innocent—they highlighted a very real, careful fear.
Lucas broke the quiet. "Dylan… the first time you brought Yve, you said you found her at the shore, fighting off shriekers…"
Dylan shook his head. "I made that up. Had to. Couldn't tell you the truth about her. That night I came back with a stab wound… if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have made it."
Yve's eyes met his. Silent understanding passed between them.
David's voice cut through. "Are there more of you? I mean… how is this… you shouldn't even exist."
Yve's eyes met his, steady and unflinching. "I exist," she said. "That's enough. I'm not here to hurt anyone—only to survive."
The words hung in the air. Maurice blinked, leaning forward.
Dr. Jenkins' tone cut in, skeptical. "That's… impossible."
Yve's gaze swept the group. Calm. Piercing. "Perhaps. But I am here. Right in front of you. That is all the proof you need."
She drew a slow breath. "You saw me. My tail. What I am beneath the water. That's the truth. Nothing more."
A few shoulders stiffened.
Yve exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing for the first time. Her voice came low but steady. "I never meant to lie to you. Never meant to make you think I'm just… an ordinary human. I did what I had to… to protect myself."
A scoff cut through the room. Mia leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "So you do deceive people… and then turn it back on us."
Yve's eyes narrowed just slightly, the calm exterior never faltering. She took a measured breath, voice steady but sharp. "Deception is a tool, not a choice. I used it to survive. If you think that makes me cruel, look at what you call survival in this world."
The words sank like stones.
For a moment, the room went silent.
No one moved. No one spoke. Somehow… that single statement made each of them pause, forcing them to reflect inward, to consider their own actions and judgments.
Mia let out a sharp laugh, brittle and dismissive. "Big words for someone who lied her way into a safe bed."
Harrison's voice cut in. "Mia. That's enough."
She turned toward him, jaw tight. "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
"I said enough," Harrison repeated, firmer now.
Mia rolled her eyes, lips curling in annoyance, but she stepped back into silence.
Yve didn't look at her. She folded her hands together, posture straight, voice calm. "Okay. Listen." She glanced around the room, meeting each face once. "My only intention in surfacing was to explore the land. To live the way humans do. I never expected to rise into a rotting world."
Her gaze shifted to Dylan. "I've seen how he flinches in his sleep. How every step he takes is measured. How his guard never drops." She paused. "That doesn't come from fear. It comes from brutality."
No one interrupted.
"When that stranger stabbed him for scraps," she continued, quieter now, "I understood something had gone very wrong with your world."
She drew in a breath. "So if my presence makes you uneasy, I understand. Truly. I will leave. No anger. No resentment."
Dylan straightened at once. "Then I'm goin' with you."
Yve turned, gentle but firm. "Hang on. Let me finish."
She faced the room again. "But if there is even a small part of you that can accept me—thank you." Her voice softened, just enough. "You've become important to me. I consider you my second family. My mortal family."
Her hands tightened briefly, then relaxed.
"And when my family fears something," she said, steady again, "I remove the cause of that fear."
She met their eyes without flinching. "If that cause is me… then I will go."
Lucas raised a hand. "Whoa… no one's telling you to leave. It's just… you dropped a bomb on us. Don't expect us to recover that easily."
Yve's fingers twisted at the hem of her sleeve. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just… hope you can forgive me for hiding the truth."
Ethan leaned forward, curiosity sharp in his eyes. "What else are you hiding? Like… you're the daughter of Poseidon or something?"
Yve blinked, tilting her head. "Uhh… what?"
"Poseidon. God of waters."
Yve shook her head. "I… don't know who that is."
She opened her mouth, ready to speak again, when a small voice interrupted her. "Do you have magic like in the movies?"
All heads snapped toward Lily. Yve blinked, managing a small smile. "Uh… no. No, I don't have magic."
Lily tilted her head. "Are you like Princess Ariel from the Disney movie?"
Yve blinked, confused. Disney, Ariel—foreign words. She swallowed. "Uh… no. Nothing like that. None in my family are royalty, as far as I know."
Taylor didn't raise her voice. She didn't step forward either.
"Were you ever going to tell us?" she asked.
The question landed heavier than anything that had come before.
Yve didn't answer.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Her gaze dropped to the floor, shoulders tightening as the truth pressed in, because she knew the answer. She had never planned when. Never planned how. Fear had always filled that space. Fear of judgment. Fear of being seen as something other than what she tried so hard to be.
She let out a slow, resigned breath. "Honestly?" Her voice was quiet. Bare. "No."
The room shifted.
Someone exhaled sharply. Someone else looked away. The weight of that single word rippled through the group, settling uneasily in every chest.
Taylor nodded once, jaw tight. "Why?"
Yve swallowed. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves.
"Because…" She faltered, breath catching. "Because I was afraid that if you knew the truth, you'd push me away."
The words came out fractured, uncertain—but real.
Taylor let out a breath of her own. Not angry. Tired. "So you don't trust us."
Yve's head snapped up. "Wh—no. No, no, that's not— I didn't mean—" Her words tangled, urgency creeping in.
Taylor stepped forward then.
Not aggressively. Not gently either.
"For a moment," she said quietly, "I thought I found a friend."
She held Yve's gaze for a second longer—long enough for the words to cut.
"Clearly, I was wrong."
She turned and walked out.
Yve stood frozen, eyes fixed on the empty space Taylor had left behind. Her chest tightened, indecision pulling at her, whether to follow, to explain, or to let the distance remain.
No one moved.
And for the first time since the truth surfaced, Yve felt it fully:
Not fear.
Not anger.
Loss.