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The door whooshed closedbehind me, and I jumped because of the sudden and absolute blackness in the room.

“Lights,” I squeaked out.

Nothing happened.

“Lights!” I demanded, louder this time, and they sprang to life, making me blink.

The accommodations were thrown into sudden relief. The design was done all in shades of white and silver. A soft cream-colored sofa sat front and center facing a metal and glass coffee table. A full kitchen stretched out behind a breakfast bar with two overstuffed, eggshell bar stools. The carpet was so soft I could feel the padding right through my shoes, which I immediately kicked off to the side.

My hand sprang to my head. Only then did I realize the extent of the ache behind my eyes. I winced. I was probably so tense from the situation that I hadn’t even noticed the pain. That was pretty damn tense. I strolled through an automatic door to the bedroom, where my luggage waited for me on a bench at the foot of the enormous ivory bed. It looked soft enough for me to sink into and get lost in the satiny sheets and cloud-like duvet.

A bathroom fit for a king included a giant, step down Jacuzzi-sized tub I could swim in, and a walk-in shower with four heads. Off that lay a walk-in closet, already filled with my things.

My panic made a reappearance as I rushed back to my luggage to find the suitcases empty. I pulled open the drawers on the dresser and found everything neatly folded and entirely familiar inside. They’d touched my things. I shivered as I pulled out the top drawer to find my underwear and bras also perfectly folded and secured. To me that spelled creepy, not luxurious.

I sat at the edge of the bed, sinking in slightly, and found an envelope leaning against an overstuffed pillow.

Fumbling, I opened the envelope. A sharp involuntary intake of breath inflated my chest as I once again recognized Mom’s scrawl.

I added a few things to your suitcase I thought you might need. Hope you like my taste in formal wear. We both know you didn’t read the brochure.

Alone at last, I allowed the tears to slip from my eyes. I had another letter to read, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready yet.

“I need some water,” I said to no one in particular, unable to settle myself.

When I stepped back inside the living area, I spotted the large open windows with a view overlooking Poseidon Park and the rippling waters beyond the glass, with schools of colorful fish flitting about. I averted my eyes immediately and hurried into the kitchen, where there were no windows.

The fridge had nothing inside. Annoyed, I pushed the silver button on the wall near the door.

“How may I assist you, Miss Meadows?” came Candice’s voice.

“Please close the shades on my window and keep them closed.” I glanced over and sighed with relief when the ocean view darkened to an opaque black. “I’d also like some hydropods and maybe some food while you’re at it.” My gut grumbled in agreement, since I hadn’t been able to stomach much earlier.

“Right away,” Candice’s computer voice said.

I hesitated. “Do you have any other voice options?”

“I can imitate any voice on record. Simply ask, and I shall switch.” The voice around me was now my own and more than slightly disturbing.

“No. No thank you. Please revert to the original option. I need some fresh air.”

Hugging myself, I shoved my feet back into my shoes and headed out of the room. But one glance at the elevator and I wondered if I had it in me to go in there alone. Sighing, I pressed another silver button.

“How may I assist—”

“Where are the stairs?” I asked, cutting it off.

“The stairs are not as aesthetically pleasing, so they are kept out of sight at the end of the hall. May I recommend the elevator?”

“Nope.”

I took off down the hall and found the door half obscured by the continuous mural of a long-haired mermaid and a giant clam. Shaking my head, I opened it and bounced down the steps until I was finally free of Mermaid’s Cove.

Disappointment sank into my bones as I tried inhaling. Even with nanosun technology, they couldn’t do much for the air. There was no difference between the inside and outside. It was mentally stifling, despite the sufficient oxygen being pumped in from below. I headed for the center, not only for the outdoor atmosphere of the park, but so I was at the farthest possible point from the oppressive ocean views all around.

What I hadn’t expected was to find Mason Bennet seated with his long legs stretched out before him on the grass in front of my mother’s statue. I nearly turned around when I took note of a group of women walking the path opposite. Mason scooted closer to the base of the statue, effectively disappearing from view.