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Years passed. Myna avoided the sea, staying well away from the shore, and if ever she wondered what Ronan had done with her skin, she pushed the thought away.
If she focused on what she had, she was happy.
And Ebba was happy enough, too. She went to school, made friends, told jokes and avoided chores. So far as Myna could see, Ebba carried none of the weight Myna herself had felt growing up.
She’d given her daughter a normal childhood, with two parents who loved her, and none of the secrets or shame hanging about, waiting to be exposed.
And she intended to keep it that way. The past could not be changed, but it could be forgotten. There was no reason for it to interfere in the life they had now.
––––––––
Myna wasn’t sure how it happened.
The wind carried the singing from the beach, and it had been so long since she’d heard Wayanna’s song, she was out of the house and down the path before she was fully awake.
It seemed foolish to turn around then, so she followed the path to the shore. The exertion warmed her, and she peeled off her jumper at the grassy edge, abandoning it on the sand.
Wayanna was already a seal, splashing back through the waves, but Myna called out anyway, distantly aware of the desperation in her voice, the loss she’d felt at not seeing her eldest child for such a long time.
She splashed into the sea.
‘Wayanna!’
There was no response.
What more do I deserve? Abandoning her, out of my own fears, my own lack of control. The weight in Myna’s chest pulled her down and she sank to her knees, icy water swirling up and around her waist.
All the sorrow she’d bottled up welled up inside her: the guilt over abandoning this daughter as she attempted to raise the other; the strain of avoiding the ocean; the constant presence in her mind of her skin, hidden in regions unknown.
Her sobs were loud, but Myna didn’t care. Who would hear her, all the way out here, at this time of night?
A smooth, wet shape slid past her in the water, and Myna gasped.
‘Wayanna.’
A wet whiskered nose popped out of the water and Myna wrapped her arms around the seal’s thick neck.
‘I’m so sorry I didn’t come back.’
The seal gave a couple of short, sharp barks and nuzzled closer.
Myna crooned a lullaby, something she hadn’t sung in years. The seal was quiet and still in her arms.
When she stopped, Wayanna stretched out of the water to touch her—whiskery nose to damp cheek—and then slipped back into the water.
With a start, Myna realised how cold she was, how her clothes had soaked up the sea.
She stood and turned, but there was a shadow on the sand ahead, and for a moment she thought it was Wayanna, thought she’d swum in behind Myna and shed her skin, but then she saw the shorter nose of Ebba’s face, and the hair pulled back in a ponytail as Wayanna’s never was.
Her younger daughter’s eyes were wide, and Myna felt a flash of fear. How long had she been standing there? What had she seen?
Myna surged forward and grabbed Ebba’s arm. It was icy cold.
Ebba said nothing as Myna pulled her out of the surf, hauling her up when she tripped in the sand.
They reached Myna’s jumper and Myna pulled it over Ebba’s head. Myna pulled her daughter across the grass and along the rocky path, not stopping till she reached home.
Inside she called out to Ronan as she sat Ebba in a chair and stoked up the fire. He brought blankets, and Eb gazed up at him in confusion.
‘I’m all right,’ she said, through blue lips. ‘It’s Mother you need to worry about.’
‘Your mother is fine, Eb.’
‘No. She fell into the sea. She was crying.’
‘It’s late, Eb. Let’s get you warm, and into bed. We can discuss it in the morning.’
Myna pulled the bedroom door behind her, removing her wet clothes to pull on dry ones and climb under the blankets. Morning was far too soon as far as she was concerned. How was she going to explain this?
