Read Emily Windsnap and the Siren's Secret for Free Online Page A

humiliated in front of an entire school and shown very clearly what the mer world thinks of the human one. How is that being loyal to your precious Neptune?”
    Mom’s face was scarlet. Why was she so angry? She hadn’t even wanted us to go to Shiprock in the first place!
    “It’s the principle of the thing,” she snapped as though she’d read my mind.
    Dad’s face was almost as red as Mom’s. Please don’t argue, I thought. I couldn’t go through all that again. They’d argued so much when we’d first arrived at Allpoints Island, I’d thought they were going to split up.
    “Look, I understand what you’re saying,” Dad said calmly. “But we’re going to have to tread carefully. I’m not going to sit doing nothing while Shiprock makes an example of Emily.”
    “And Aaron,” I butted in.
    Dad nodded. “And Aaron. I’ll do something. But I want to make sure that whatever we do, it’s the right thing. If we go charging in there shouting our gills off now, how’s that going to help our cause?”
    Mom turned away.
    Dad tried again. “Come on, Pen, we’ve got to be a team; we’ve got to work this out together. That’s what Neptune instructed us to do as well.”
    Mom let out a huge sigh, then she sat on the edge of the deck and took Dad’s hand. “I suppose you’re right,” she said grudgingly. “Naturally.”
    “Naturally? Why naturally?” Dad asked.
    “Well, look at me. Who am I to think I can build bridges between people? We should tell Neptune to pick someone else.”
    “Mary Penelope, what on earth are you talking about?”
    Uh-oh. Dad had called her by her full name. He only called her Mary Penelope when it was really serious. It was time to step in.
    “Look, I don’t mind all that much, now that it’s over and done with,” I said quickly. “I’m happy to go to Brightport High, and so’s Aaron. I’ve told him all about it. So why don’t we just forget it and carry on as though nothing’s happened? We’ve got each other, and that’s all that matters really, isn’t it?”
    Mom looked down at the deck. Shaking her head, she mumbled, “That’s not the point.”
    Now it was Dad’s turn to sigh. “If that’s not the point, then what is ?”
    She muttered something.
    “What was that?” Dad asked, a sliver of impatience creeping into his voice.
    Mom looked up. A tear had slipped from her eye and was snaking down her cheek. “My parents,” she said numbly.
    Dad reached up and stroked her leg. “Oh, Penny,” he said. She gulped back a sob.
    “I don’t get it,” I said. “What about them? I thought you hadn’t seen them for years.”
    “Exactly!” Mom said woodenly. “That’s my point! What chance do I stand of building bridges between two worlds if even my own parents haven’t spoken to me in more than ten years? Neptune’s picked the wrong person!”
    And with that, she wrapped her arms around her knees and threw herself wholeheartedly into crying very loudly.
    I couldn’t stand to see her like that. Seeing my mom cry felt like someone was sticking a knife into my chest. I reached out and touched her arm. “Mom, it’s OK,” I said, feeling completely useless.
    She shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she said into her knees. “It’s not OK at all. In fact, it’s about as un-OK as you can get.” She took hold of my hand and tried a feeble smile. “But thank you for trying, sweet pea.”
    I think Dad must have felt as useless as I did, but he didn’t try to say anything helpful. He just kept on stroking her legs while we waited for her to cry herself out.

    We ate a snack together in silence. It wasn’t the happiest silence in the world, but at least there were no tears. And we managed to discuss the situation enough to make one decision: I wasn’t going to start at Brightport High in a hurry.
    Since there were only a few weeks of the school year left, Mom and Dad agreed I could wait till September. At least it meant I didn’t have to worry about the