A couple of days later, Taylor stood in the shade of a tree, watching Lily and Tyler play near the far end of the bush wall. She exhaled slowly, fatigue pressing down on her. Inside, the others went about their own tasks in silence, the cluttered house filled only with the quiet shuffle of movement. Each carried the weight of their thoughts; words felt unnecessary, or perhaps impossible.
Yve stepped outside, spotting Dylan guiding a military truck into place while Maurice directed him. She drifted toward the side of the house, where Taylor stood nearby. Yve's chest tightened, her mind heavy with torment, guilt, and lingering regret. Taylor's words still echoed in her thoughts, keeping her restless and sleepless.
Yve approached slowly, her steps hesitant on the grass. She stopped a few feet away and cleared her throat softly to announce herself.
Taylor glanced back, surprised. A faint smile tugged at her lips, brief, reflexive, before her gaze returned to the children.
The silence stretched.
"Ta—" Yve started, then stopped. Heat crept up her neck. "Tay…"
"Hm," Taylor replied, quiet, noncommittal.
"I'm sorry," Yve said. Her voice was gentle, careful. "I'm really sorry, Tay."
Taylor didn't answer. One hand rose to her chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt as if steadying herself. After a moment, she nodded once. Still no words.
"There's no excuse for what I did," Yve continued, swallowing. "But you should know… you've become important to me. More than I ever expected."
Taylor finally turned to look at her. Her expression softened just slightly. She nodded again. "I know."
Yve hesitated, then asked quietly, "Can you forgive me, Tay?"
Taylor exhaled, slow and shaky. "I—I don't know, Yve," she said. "It's just that… after the apocalypse, I stopped making real friends. People I could trust. People I could leave Tyler with if something happened to me… or Lucas." Her voice wavered. "And then you came."
Yve nodded, listening, not interrupting.
"But after the other night…" Taylor's jaw tightened. "I'm scared for him again. How am I supposed to trust Tyler to you—how am I supposed to believe you'd protect him—when you were never fully honest with me to begin with?"
"I know," Yve said softly. "I'm so sorry, Tay. Truly."
Taylor opened her mouth. "I don't know, Yve, I—"
A scream cut through the air.
Lily's voice, sharp and panicked. Both snapped toward the sound.
Lily barreled across the yard, sobbing, arms flailing. Tyler stumbled behind her, too slow, too small. A small shrieker burst through the bush wall, teeth bared, shrill, feral.
Taylor and Yve sprinted.
The men outside the house followed, adrenaline driving them forward. David tossed a shotgun into Lucas's hands, and together they barreled across the yard, moving as fast as they could, but the distance was already worrying.
Yve ran like the wind, muscles coiled and ready. Taylor screamed, voice breaking, "Oh God! Tyler! No!" as the smaller shrieker closed in on him.
Inside the house, Elena's ears caught Lily's terrified cries. She bolted outside, joining the others, while panic flared like wildfire through everyone. Shrieks echoed as chaos spread.
Another shrieker lunged through the gap, a fully grown, grotesque adult that had once been human, far faster and deadlier than the smaller one.
The smaller shrieker lunged for Tyler but Yve closed the gap in an instant. With a single, fluid motion, she tore its head from its body, without breaking stride, hurling it at the larger shrieker.
The adult shrieker shrieked, staggered—but Yve didn't pause. She tackled it to the ground, muscles coiled, landing squarely on top. Teeth gritted, she ripped through its chest and pulled its heart free. Blood slicked her hands, dark and warm.
The yard froze. Guns lowered halfway, breaths caught, eyes wide.
Taylor dropped to her knees beside Tyler, pressing him to her chest, trembling, whispering. Elena followed, gathering Lily, caressing her shaking shoulders.
Lucas knelt by Tyler, scanning him quickly. "You good, little man," he muttered.
Yve slowly rose, chest heaving, heart still in her hands.
The group froze, shock rooting them in place. Weapons hung uselessly at their sides; no one dared make a move.
Shimmering scales caught the sunlight, fins bristled along her forearms, and her long fingers ended in sharp, claw-like nails. The sight was horrifying, yet mesmerizing.
Yve's eyes met theirs, unwavering. She clenched her hands tightly around the heart, feeling it tear beneath her grip. With a wet, sickening smush, it split apart and fell onto the grass.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, caught between awe, fear, and the undeniable reality of Yve before them.
Taylor exhaled, shakily reaching out. "Yve…"
Yve's eyes met hers, waiting, wary.
Taylor stepped closer, hand hovering, then finally wrapped her arms around Yve. The siren froze at first, rigid.
"Th-thank you… thank you!" Taylor whispered through choked sobs. Her grip didn't falter. She didn't flinch at Yve's clawed hands or the blood slicking her arms.
The others hung back, frozen, unsure of how to cross the invisible line between fear and trust. Eyes flicked between each other, silent conversations passing through glances.
Yve's eyes shimmered, tears forming as she returned the embrace. Her limbs slowly shifted back to human form, scales fading from her arms, fins retreating.
Elena's hand hovered, almost reluctant, before sliding into the hug. Her expression softened, gratitude clear, especially for Lily's sake.
Lucas stepped forward next. He didn't rush, didn't speak. Just a firm hand pressed to Yve's shoulder, a quiet nod, slow, deliberate. The hug loosened, but the warmth lingered.
One by one, the others began to close the space. Ethan's handshake was careful at first, tentative. Maurice's pat on her shoulder came after a pause, awkward but genuine. Derek and Jenkins offered brief, approving nods. Lara and Joan closed their eyes for a single breath, letting the moment settle.
The group didn't rush. They didn't flood her with words or relief. Instead, they lingered in the quiet, measured acknowledgment that what Yve had done—and who she truly was—was finally being accepted.
Taylor wiped her tears slowly, whispering, "Thank you." Elena's voice followed, soft, careful, deliberate. "Thank you."
Yve let herself breathe, the weight of two days of distance and measured gazes finally lifting, even if only slightly.
David, ever blunt, broke the quiet. "You should wash up. You smell bad." A chuckle rippled through the group, small but genuine. The humor carried more than words—acceptance, relief, a recognition of what had just happened.
No speeches. No grand declarations. Just small, imperfect gestures. Yet in them, the message was unmistakable: Yve was being welcomed. Not fully, not yet, but the seed was planted, and they were tending it.
Finally, Yve's gaze found Dylan's, standing slightly back. He offered her a faint, reassuring smile, exhaling a quiet sigh of relief that seemed to carry the weight of the morning.
Dr. Jenkins stepped forward, adjusting his glasses with measured precision. "Yve," he said, voice calm but edged with curiosity, "if you don't mind… may I ask you a lot of questions?"
The warmth behind the invitation made Yve's chest lift slightly. She returned his gaze with a genuine smile and nodded. "Happy to do so," she replied.
The smaller shrieker's headless body twitched on the ground, muscles spasming as if in frustration. Lucas raised his shotgun and drove the butt repeatedly into its chest, each strike fueled by the replay of terror in his mind—the fear of his son being harmed.
David exhaled, voice tense. "How'd they get in anyway?"
Lucas straightened, eyes scanning the perimeter. "Get the kids inside first. Then we'll figure it out."
The group moved quickly. Tyler and Lily were ushered into the safety of the house, Elena and Taylor close behind.
Lucas, David, and Dylan headed to the far side of the bush wall. They crouched, inspecting the area. A small puddle glistened in the gray light, and beyond it, a gap hidden beneath thick vines became faintly visible, unnoticeable unless you looked closely.
Dylan's jaw tightened. "Hell."
Lucas muttered, voice grim, "We have to fix this… can't risk more getting in again."
David exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I owe you an apology, Dyl."
Dylan glanced at him, expression flat but not unkind. "Ain't much to it… it's Yve you owe an apology to."
David nodded. "Yeah… I sincerely do."
Lucas exhaled sharply, shaking off the residual terror coursing through his body. "If it wasn't for her, Tyler could've been in grave danger… we all owe her an apology."
David smirked faintly, eyes still scanning the perimeter. "She's both terrifying and mesmerizing. Kinda relieved we've got her on our side."
Lucas paused, glancing at him as they crouched by the bush wall, carefully inspecting for more hidden gaps or even the smallest holes. "Really? Why?"
David's gaze softened, thoughtful. "You saw how she handled that shrieker… someone like her protecting us? Hell, I'm a man but I feel safe just knowing she's here."
~~~
Later that night, the manor settled into quiet disarray. Blankets were thin, pillows mismatched, but no one complained. Exhaustion had dulled their edges.
Outside, near the pool, Yve and Dylan sat at the umbrella table. No words passed between them, just silence that felt safe.
Ava approached with a tray of three steaming cups. She set it down, handing one to Dylan, one to Yve, and keeping the last. She sat beside Yve, her gaze searching. Yve met her eyes, unsure. Ava smiled just enough to say I see you and tapped her shoulder lightly.
Yve gave a small, real smile and nodded. Dylan watched quietly, steady.
"Thank you," Ava said softly. "For saving us." She turned to Dylan. "And you too."
The moment hung between them. Awkward, but kind. Yve giggled lightly. "You can ask me questions, if you want."
Ava chuckled, cradling her coffee. "I have so many questions… but I don't want to overwhelm you."
Yve smiled lightly. "It's okay. I drowned Dylan with questions when I first met him too."
She glanced at Dylan, and for a moment, they shared a look, the dock, their first meeting, quiet awe. It passed quickly, but lingered.
Ava leaned closer. "Alright… I know your biology is different, so time must flow differently for you. How old are you exactly?"
Yve giggled again. "You'd be shocked. I'm 24 years old—or 240 in human years."
Ava's jaw dropped. "Shut up! You're older than my father?"
The girls laughed, the sound carrying softly across the pool. Dylan didn't join in, but a faint smile tugged at his mouth as he sipped his coffee, content to just watch.
Ava leaned forward, still caught on the thought. "So one human year is ten for you?"
Yve shook her head. "Other way around. Ten years for you is one for me. Ten years from now, I'd be twenty-five. You'd just be… ten years older."
Ava stared at her. "That's insane."
Yve tilted her head. "Yeah…Uhm, hey can I ask you a question?"
Ava nodded, "Sure."
"You're not as shocked as the others. Why?", Yve continued.
Ava's smile thinned. Her gaze drifted toward the pool, unfocused. "Maybe because I almost died in the ocean once," she said quietly.
Yve didn't interrupt.
"It was during a cruise. Something exploded—didn't sink the ship, but it threw me overboard. A rope wrapped around my legs and dragged me down." Ava's fingers tightened around her cup. "I remember running out of air. Everything going dark."
She paused. "Then I saw… someone. A blur. Human, but not. There was a tail."
Yve leaned in just slightly.
"She cut the rope. Pulled me free." Ava swallowed. "I woke up in a hospital. They said I'd been found drifting on a log. A miracle."
Her eyes flicked down. "But the bruises were still there. Rope burns, deep. I knew I hadn't imagined it."
Ava let out a quiet breath. "I looked it up afterward. Other stories. Different places, same details. Half-human. Half-fish. People surviving things they shouldn't."
She glanced back at Yve. "Doctors calls it 'hallucination'."
Ava turned to Yve, her eyes steady. "I went on with my life, half-believing my savior was… something else. And then I saw you. At the pool. That's when it clicked. I know what I saw. It was a siren. A female one."
Yve didn't reply. She didn't need to. Her eyes shimmered with quiet understanding.
The night held its breath—not in fear, but in reverence.
"And… you're not afraid?" Yve asked softly.
"Of what?"
"Of us." Yve's gaze dropped. "I've heard stories. Sirens luring sailors to their deaths, manipulating humans."
Ava shook her head, thoughtful. "If that were true, I wouldn't be here." She sipped her coffee. "Humans lie. We always make up stories to explain what we can't understand. What I saw… wasn't death or magic. It was someone saving me."
She met Yve's eyes. "And with you, I see just another life, trying to survive peacefully. And if you think about it—those tales of sirens luring sailors… there are just as many of sailors hunting sirens for money. Seems like a fair trade, doesn't it?"
Yve chuckled. Ava joined her, the sound soft, easy. They sipped their coffee, letting it warm the night around them.
For an hour, they shared quiet stories. Ava spoke of growing up in the manor, while Yve shared stories of her underwater adventures. Dylan said little, but his presence beside her was enough.