Song Of Heritage

Serena was a good liar. She had perfected the art even before she got a scholarship at Insignia Private University. There, students ate out of golden cutlery and floated with the ease, privilege, and loads of money tend to offer. It seemed like everything they wanted, they simply got. Even their language, English, was rich.

Serena found herself a rock among a sea of diamonds when she first stepped on campus, so she had to lie into becoming a jewel. She dreamt of a large house in the city, a rewarding job, and compliance from others. All of the things she never had.

So when she joined a group of students, she would build the perfect spider web of lies to snatch any of them and reach those goals. The light little ones were her favorite. I can't go, I'm not feeling well. You are perfect, just as you are. Money is not everything. Those were so overused people didn't ask questions.

But Serena needed to get a little crafty when it came to thicker lies. Someone could get a detail that didn't make sense or proof she didn't have, so those had to be tight, quick, like she didn't have to think about them.

Finding a steady group of friends took a while until she met Henry Dawford in British Lit class. He was tall, with broad shoulders and unusually long, thin limbs. His mane of fiery red hair, large eyes, and oval-shaped face made him seem like a rare horse. He sat by her side every day and flirted like someone with experience. He was charming and loved her honey skin and her eagerness to sing praises.

Soon they went to lavish parties, shopping sprees, and weekend trips together. Henry's way of formalizing their relationship was to buy her an apartment in the city with a balcony after a couple of complaints about lousy dorm accommodations. She would never go back to her old life.

"Never, ever," she muttered as she glanced at her wristwatch. She sighed, slumping into the chair of the apartment's dining table. The candles flickered, and the chef's beautiful dinner no longer smoked.

Today Henry had gone shopping with his mother, and that only meant trouble.

Henry's dream was to become an author. Initially, he wanted to do it on his own. Then a few rejections later, he took up his mother's offer and sent his manuscript to a publisher friend of hers. His horror gothic novella would be out in a couple of months, and he was already working on his second book.

Mr. and Mrs. Dawford thought writing was a hobby, but as Henry began neglecting family affairs to spend hours in his studio, they started to worry. They bribed him, threatened him, and now they were pointing fingers at Serena. Despite it, Henry brought up his books in every conversation, regardless of the topic, holding on to the idea that his parents would someday accept them.

Serena understood, in a sense, Henry's fervor to be seen and accepted by his parents. Her mother was detective Margarita Villanueva, and she was the head investigator of the countless disappearances in Isla Colibrí. She spent most days locked in her room with only papers for company, and most nights, she left. There was never a good morning or a good night from detective Margarita, and sometimes Serena found the drawings she gave her crumbled up next to the trash. Serena was raised almost entirely by her crazy grandmother, so she knew early that she needed to leave.

"Gorgeous open up; my hands are full," said Henry from the other side of the door.

Serena brushed away the thoughts from home and went to get the door. Henry stood, hair tussled and cheeks red, balancing several store bags in his arms and a little velvet box in his hands.

"I'm so sorry," he said, smiling apologetically.

"That's so sweet of you, babe," Serena said. She took the box and leaned for a quick kiss that never happened.

"I brought some of Henry's favorites!" chimed Andrea Harrison, Henry's self-appointed best friend, and professional date wedge, shaking a bag of takeout from behind him.

Serena's face tightened as they both went past her through the door. She caught Henry by the forearm.

"You said it would be the two of us," Serena hissed.

Henry dipped his head. "I know, gorgeous, but she was feeling lonely. Valentine's coming up and all."

"It's not even the middle of January," said Serena.

Henry shrugged. "Just for a little while, okay?" he sealed his words with a kiss on her cheek and walked inside. Serena sighed and closed the door.

"Don't worry about dinner, Serena," said Andrea. She rummaged through the kitchen drawers with insulting confidence before glancing at Serena. "Henry doesn't really like lamb chops anyway."

Serena curled her lip. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Andrea said with a wink.

Henry was oblivious to this exchange as he was too many things regarding Andrea Harisson. He didn't know that she had introduced herself as Henry's girlfriend when neither of them was there. He also doubted the true story of how Andrea had stalked her for weeks when they first started dating or that her friendly touches occurred every minute. At least, that's what Serena calculated as she watched them sit on the kitchen counter to eat, and Andrea's hand slid over Henry's forearm for the second time already.

Serena could yank Andrea's hand away, call her a psycho, and throw her out if she saw the slightest bit of apathy from Henry, but today was not that day.

Serena blew out the candles on the dinner table and wished for that day to come soon.

"So, what did your mother say?" asked Andrea.

Seriously? Even that she knew? Serena shook her head and sat next to Henry. She wondered if Andrea had prodded him for the info or if Henry blurted it out casually.

"We went on a guilt trip today," said Henry. "You're killing your father! He has done everything for you! You owe him!" Henry scoffed after the high-pitched nasal imitation of his mother's voice. "I wish they could hear themselves."

"Did you tell her of the new draft?" asked Serena softly.

Andrea tensed. "New draft?" she asked.

"Yeah…,” said Henry. He blinked, confused. "I didn't tell you?"

Andrea stared at Henry blankly. Serena covered her smirk with the back of her hand.

"Oh! You were waiting to finish, so I'd be your first reader!" Andrea beamed.

Serena shrugged. "I read it yesterday. It was great, full of unexpected plot twists." She embraced Henry from behind. "I loved it, mi amor," Serena whispered in his ear and kissed it, looking right at Andrea. It was like her face was melting.

"Aw, babe," said Henry. He tilted his head for a slow kiss, the type that crackles as the lips separate.

"You both look happy. I don't know why Mrs. Dawford would be against someone like Serena," said Andrea. "Perhaps it's because she can't find the hotel chain owned by the Villanuevas."

Shit.

Henry frowned. "She can't?"

"She probably forgot the tilde," said Serena.

The hotel chain lie was the original, the foundation of every other lie Serena had ever told. It labeled her as one of them and swept her real family and their lack of money under the rug.

Henry nodded. "Just another excuse to stop me."

Serena shrugged, trying to seem composed and unbothered in front of Andrea, not relieved beyond measure.

Andrea's eyes glinted. "I have an idea! Let's go to your little island, Serena, and stay in one of the hotels. We have vacations anyway, and I'm desperate for a suntan," said Andrea.

"And I'll get my parents off my back about you," said Henry grinning. "It's perfect!"

"I'll book the tickets right now," Andrea said, pulling her phone from her purse.

Shit, shit, shit!

"No, don't bother. It's always crowded with tourists and mosquitoes and—" Serena said.

"Check it out! Every 50 years, there's a festival, and the legend is that mermaids come out of the lagoon and join the human guests. If we book now, we'll be able to go," said Andrea.

"Let me see." Henry pulled out of Serena's embrace and peered over Andrea's side. "Did you know this, babe?"

"It's just to commemorate our inheritance; nothing worth the effort. My family and I avoid it like the plague," said Serena.

"Even more of a reason to go," said Henry. "I can meet your parents."

Serena's blood drained to her cold feet.

"I'm not even sure they'll be there, and really there's nothing you can't see on any other island. Let's go to Acapulco or—"

"Window seats for you, Henry?" asked Andrea.

"Yep," he said.

Serena's phone started to vibrate as they kept talking. She pulled it slightly to peek at the screen. Grandmother, it read. She pursed her lips as a pang of irritation settled in her stomach. She had ignored nine calls before this one. Her grandmother was intense but never like this. Perhaps it was something important this time.

"I gotta take this," Serena muttered. They didn't even flinch.

Serena swallowed the impulse to ignore the call and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She pressed the answer button and placed the phone on her ear.

"Abuela?" she whispered, even though no one could possibly hear her from there.

"She is gone, mijita," her grandmother's voice in Spanish sounded like paper being crumbled. Had she been crying?

Serena frowned, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

"Mamá always returns, abuela. God knows when, but she does. You can't be calling me every time this happens. I was in the middle of a very important conversation," Serena said.

"Margarita said she had a lead this time. Algae that was only found in the cursed lagoon, so she had to go there. I begged her not to, it was late, and they always hunt at night…You remember, don't you? When she took you nearby once you saw them…" said her grandma.

Serena sighed. Her grandmother was getting too old to be left alone. Lately, she spoke nonstop of the ancient family legend about an enchanted lagoon, ravenous mermaids, and the disappearance of her great uncle, who happened to be the first islander to pop out of existence. Of course, the townspeople forgot, but her family seemed addicted to the idea. Especially her grandma. Besides, the mermaid she saw was a log that her childish mind transformed to ease herself that night.

"I'm sure everything is going to be fine, abuela—"

"Her team brought her bloodied uniform last night, with teeth marks, mijita," said her grandma before breaking into sobs.

Serena froze. Everything in her sight blurred, and the only thing real was the voice on the other side of the phone.

"Q-que…?" Serena said.

"Please come home, mijita, please…" said her grandmother.

Serena's mind started to dart everywhere, from the people outside her door; to a night in the enchanted lagoon many years ago that she thought forgotten. Then the image of her grandmother taking the bloodied uniform in her trembling hands sent an ache in the pit of her stomach.

"…Mierda," said Serena.

"Don't you curse in front of me," said her grandma.

"Booked!" said Andrea loudly from the other side.