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Millie had water in her mouth.

It was a technique her mom had taught her. Pull the water in, find the air bubbles, and push it out.

It was supposed to help Millie stay under the water longer, and it was supposed to comfort her, but all she felt was irritation as she looked up through the clear ocean water.  The moon was out, cutting a bright path through the water, illuminating only a small part of the ocean, making it hard to get her bearings.

When Millie let her eyes wander, she couldn't see anything else. The shape of her sisters' legs a few feet away, a fish darting by — but it was all vague and blurry.

Unlike the rest of her sisters, Millie had never been good at this part of the exercise. She could stay under the water much longer than any of her other sisters, but that didn't really matter when she couldn't get "in touch" with the water itself, whatever the hell that meant.

She was supposed to be able to open herself up and just let it come, but something was stopping her. Just inside her head and wrapped around the outside of her heart — ice, Angel had said before, tapping on the front of Millie's chest. You're cold inside.

Millie didn't think being cold inside should stop her from being able to do the basic things her sisters were able to do, but she wasn't like them. Since she was a kid, Millie had been terrified with the water, unlike her sisters that basked in it, and therefore, was unable to become "one with the water" as Angel said in that I'm Looking Down On You voice she'd mastered when she went to NYU.

This was all so pointless. Maybe, if Millie thought this exercise was actually helping her, she wouldn't mind it so much. But she knew, just like her sisters knew, that this was just a placebo. Something to give the illusion they were doing something instead of standing idly by, waiting.

Pushing herself up, Millie surged through the surface of the water, spitting out the salty ocean from her mouth and slapping her hands against the slow waves.

The stopwatch clicked off. "Eight minutes, twenty seven seconds."

Angel didn't look the slightest bit impressed.

"What?" Millie panted, dragging in as much air as she could. "I beat your record."

"And you stopped short of yours by five minutes." Angel shook her head, slick strands of blonde hair whipping through the air. "This isn't going to work if you don't at least try."

"I am trying! I didn't breathe for eight minutes, okay? Cut me some slack. Being without oxygen really messes with your head."

Angel rolled her eyes and dove under the water. The conversation was obviously over, and Millie had pretty much nothing to show for the night, other than salt crusted hair and burning eyes.

Just lovely.

Millie watched her sister for a moment, making sharp arcs through the water with her arms and legs. She was just like the rest of the Clearwaters — beautiful and lovely, but with a deadly twist in her name that sent shivers down everyones spine.

Too many thoughts like this, and Millie would end up contemplating her families' very existence and if that happened, it would be the fifth time tonight. Not wanting to go down that road again, she threw herself forward, cutting the same path through the water as her sister had.

She was fluid, almost like the water itself, and reached the beach five seconds after Angel had stumbled onto it, despite the one minute head start Angel had gotten.

"Angel —" Millie started, pulling a piece of seaweed off her ankle and tossing it back into the ocean.

"I'm not interested in any of your excuses," Angel said, throwing the stop watch on top of her beach bag. "We're getting closer and closer to the end, Millie, and you're messing around. You have to put more effort into this. It's your life."

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