The Souls of Drowned People

Chapter Twenty Four

It was like exploding. My heart went first, not metaphorically, it really broke, pushed against my ribs and pounded, ticking, until I felt a snapping and saw a flash of black. I knew I was dead. That was the strangest part. My heart stopped beating and my skin turned cold, but I still watched myself die, perfectly aware.

I watched my legs as they stopped with their desperate kicking, watched them grow tight and mold together. I want my arms twist and contort as the bones began to shift. I heard a splintering, cracking sound.

My spine.

My entire body was shaking, shifting, twisting, bending and folding in on itself. I was a selkie. I was dead. Moira McCabe was dead. Moira McCabe didn’t exist.

But something inside me still did, and that something made me push up to the surface. My new tail was heavy, unruly, but with a few quick flaps, I was able to break through the water.

It had stopped raining, but there was a light fog, turning the world gray. I glanced around. My eyes stung with salt, and maybe leftover tears, if I was still capable of crying tears. Still, through the fog and the pain, I squinted at something that looked like the beach.

I couldn’t have floated out that far. I would swim back. I would find Cillian. I would tell him that I was sorry for letting go, and kiss his cheek where I hit him. I would exchange my selkie skin for the white dress again, and we would stand in front of the fireplace, hands clasped as we watched the skin burn.

I still loved Cillian. I had never loved him more. Loving Cillian meant I was still partway alive.

There was a splash from behind me. Ronan was bobbing up and down in the light waves, and at first I grinned, happy to see that he was alive. And then I remembered that Ronan being alive was the reason I was dead.

He wasn’t half as beautiful anymore, now that we were the same. The intrigue was gone.

I tried to make my lips move again. “The shore,” I tried to tell him. “I want to go to the shore.” All I had was a series of harsh, grating barks, and I froze, nearly slipping under the water, to realize that those awful sounds were coming from me.

Ronan jerked his head for me to follow him. We sliced through the water, Ronan glancing back to make sure I wasn’t lagging too far behind. The water felt good, ripping through my fur. I felt strong— this was every swimmer’s dream, wasn’t it? Chelsea was right all along. I was swimming like a seal. Occasionally, I would catch a splash of sunlight on my back.

It wasn’t so terrible, I thought. Ronan understood. He knew I loved Cillian, and he had nodded when I said I would never stop loving Cillian. He might not have even been the one who set up the lure on the beach.

I could bring him back to land with me. The happiness of the thought made me swim faster. The Coneellys would take care of him, once they stopped being freaked out by the idea of him being a selkie. Rachael would make him some clothes. Bridget would teach him to speak.

We could all be happy, I was thinking, as I followed Ronan back up to the surface.

Ronan had scampered up onto a gathering of rocks, and I quickly followed, anxious to see the shore. Cillian probably hadn’t left.

The rocks were colder than I had expected. And when I glanced around, desperately, looking all directions, I couldn’t even see the small sliver of shoreline that I had seen before. I couldn’t see the old Ballycotton lighthouse, and that was a mile from the village.

            Behind me, Ronan was sprawled lazily across the rocks, peeling out of his skin. He shook his hair out, looking at me like I was supposed to believe everything was okay.