Page 55 of Waters that Drown Us
Her hand slips down, fingers gently pressing into my calf like she’s reminding herself that I’m real.
“Alright, Pecas. Let’s start there.”
Epilogue One
Emily
Even after all this time, I really don’t love the ocean. But Alice does, and I love her, so here I am.
Plus, I’m fairly certain that if I make up another excuse for not turning in data to my PhD advisor, she’s going to cut me into microscopic, zooplankton-like pieces and use me as bait for the jellies. I barely convinced her to let me change my geographic focus to coastal Japan and the distribution of their native sea nettles.
Alice stares off at the horizon, her face serene yet deeply sad. Sometimes I think we’re too close to where her mother died. My brave, beautiful girl’s fears are much closer now than when she was on the other side of the Pacific.
“You okay?” I ask softly, knocking her foot with mine. She stirs out of her reprieve, blinking away the haze from her eyes. Despair and worry are still there though, and while I hate that she feels those things at all, I’m glad she doesn’t hide them from me.
“Yeah, worried about what comes next,” she admits with a shrug that’s meant to be casual.
“Me too,” I say, hoping it comforts her that we’re both lost in this unknown.
Bea’s been gone for about a week, the first time any of the Costa cousins have left Japan since the round trip flight Bea and I made to clean up the scene in Nesika Beach, pick up Ilya’s iced over body, and gather both my and Alice’s belongings. But Clara’s informed us she’s coming back tonight, and has requested everyone’s presence at Bea’s townhouse.
Seeing as I’ve been spending every moment not working or drafting my dissertation in Alice’s bed, the sudden change in tone was a rude awakening. I’ve been teaching Alice more and more about The Syndicate, but it’s felt distant and theoretical. I have a feeling everything will change tonight.
“Holy shit,” Alice whispers, pointing directly at my ROV monitor. I whip my head around to watch the flickering screen, seeing absolutely nothing.
“Did you…?” I ask, my words trailing as Alice clambers out of her seat to move closer to the screen.
“I swear, watch,” she whispers, like she’s afraid she’ll scare off whatever she saw. We hold our breath as our boat—much larger, more modern, and not nearly as soaked in memories as our last one—bobs gently on the waves. There’s a flicker in the corner, and Alice gasps.
“Come on,” she mutters, and something warm and liquid fills my chest as I watch her be so excited for my ridiculous, contrived research subject.
“Right there!”
And she’s right.
Dozens of Japanese Sea Nettles filter through the water in front of the ROV, contracting their bells and propelling themselves through the deep. Their color is more muted and neutral than the Black Sea Nettles I was looking for on the other side of the ocean, but their long, delicate arms are so similar. I blink for a few moments before Alice slaps my leg with the back of her hand.
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking notes or recording something? What kind of researcher are you?”
I can’t stop myself from laughing as I shuffle through my bag for my notebook and data collection worksheets.
“I really didn’t think we’d find them after only a few trips,” I say, a little dumbfounded. “I mean I know they live in cold waters, but they’ve never been recorded this deep, as far as I’m aware.”
“Emily, shut up and do your genius stuff,” Alice says, not tearing her eyes away from the screen. “I want to dive with them.”
“Absolutely not,” I scoff, earning a glare from my favorite person. “They’re venomous, Alice.”
“I have the internet now, Emily,” she bites back in a mocking tone, turning back to the screen to ogle at the cnidarians. “Their sting isn’t usually fatal, unless you have an allergy."
I jot down our coordinates, the water temperature, depth, and pressure readings, and observations from the image blinking in front of us.
“I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t do. But just because their stings aren’t fatal doesn't mean they don’t hurt like hell. Plus, I don’t think it’s humanly possible to dive over five hundred feet.”
She grumbles something inaudible in response, and I try not to laugh at her disregard of caution. She really is the embodiment of the idea that fear isn’t necessary.
After a few minutes of my scribbling and her oohing and ahhing, she finds a seat beside me and lays her head on my shoulder. Together, we watch the jellies and fish and other creatures of the deep float by, a universe humming hundreds of feet below us.
“So you found them. What’s next?” Alice asks, interlacing her fingers with mine. I press my lips into her hair, savoring the way the sea magnifies her scent tenfold.