Hedges line either side of the walkway, curving and bending along with the path. At the bottom sits the stadium in all of its glory: a closed-roof structure with high metal beams and rotating lights.

"The Dining Experience is starting," I say, leading us up the concrete steps. "We'll be able to see them."

We get to the top of the stadium and find two empty seats. I ignore the squealing children around me and lean forward in my chair, studying the large, blue pool intently.

Along the far edge of the enclosure, perfectly positioned between two large screens, a mermaid tail ascends from the water. It is a rainbow of colors: blues, reds, greens and oranges, like it is mirroring a sunset. Down there performing, I had never noticed it before.

Behind it, the sun sits high in the sky, glinting off the water and reflecting like crystals across the surface. Either side of the enclosure, a woman dressed as a mermaid sits in a clam-shaped chair, her tail draped elegantly over the side.

I can tell just by looking at them that they are not engineered, though the guests still take pictures anyway. It seems Marine World are pulling out all of the stops to make the performance seem less empty.

Dancing fountains shoot from the water. The stadium falls silent, all eyes on Valerie as she steps up to the podium and grins at the audience.

My stomach clenches. How much does she know about us? Does she know about the experiments? About the genetically-engineered girls being kidnapped and tortured? What lies has Marine World spun to control someone as sweet and as normal as Valerie?

"Welcome to Marine World," she says, her voice echoing through the speakers. "I hope you're all ready for a Mertastic show!"

My heart races faster in anticipation for what's coming. I grab Reece's hand, searching the water for signs of the girls. Valerie flicks her wrist on cue, and the girls shoot through the surface, flipping and turning in perfect unison.

I sit mesmerised on the edge of my seat, enthralled by the way they are able to move–the way I am able to move. Each twirl and flip has me holding my breath, desperate to see another. It's as though Marine World has blurred the lines between fiction and reality, a place where darkness ceases to exist, at least above the surface.

And I find myself falling for it. I find myself lured by the glitz and the glamor, wanting to believe in the unbelievable. Tears form in my eyes, caused by a mixture of grief and amazement. How can something so beautiful, so coordinated, cause so much destruction? How can something that brings the guests so much happiness cause us so much pain?

Reece gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. When I look over, he is watching me intently with a pained expression. He motions for us to leave, but I couldn't move if I wanted to.

Finally, five minutes before two, the girls line up and wait patiently for their treasures. I follow the rest of the guests down the steps and out of the stadium, my heart still thumping away.

The sun is beginning to set, turning everything inside of the park the perfect shade of gold. When the sweet smells of the vendors becomes too tempting, Reece buys us both a pretzel and we sit on one of the mermaid-shaped benches, watching the guests stroll by.

It seems almost impossible to believe that I have somehow become one of them, that I am no longer the exhibit on the other side of the glass. I have gotten so used to them staring at me that it feels strange to not be noticed.

In the distance, flowerbeds weave in and out of the grass. Beyond the trees, a glass aviary stands at the bottom of a cobbled pathway. I get to my feet, wandering past the flowers, stopping every few minutes to smell the roses or glance back at the perfectly-rounded hedges.

I make it to the bottom of the pathway and into the aviary. It seems to be the only place in the park that isn't overridden with guests. The ground is covered with fine, brown pebbles that crunch beneath my feet. A small, narrow stream twists and curves through the aviary, disappearing under a grove of foliage before reappearing on the other side in a perfect loop. Positioned on top of a part of the steaam is a small, curved bridge, and thickets of bushes grow in all four corners, some growing upward towards the glass ceiling while others shoot out towards the sides of the stream.

This enclosure is just as carefully crafted as my own, but there is something different about it, something wilder and less refined. Shoots of greenery attempt to break through the pebbles, growing where they shouldn't. Other plants want to burst from their confines, reaching and stretching in different directions to the ones they've been placed in. I suppose nature can't be controlled in the same way we can, can't be pinned to one particular location; it will always find a way to break free.

Up above, an array of brightly colored birds flit between the branches of the trees. I stand fascinated by the carefree way they glide through the air, dipping and weaving through the surrounding greenery, resting for a moment to study their surroundings before taking flight again. I close my eyes, breathing in the earthy, crisp smell that drifts off the vines growing along the windows.

The sound of footsteps brings me out of my thoughts. I turn to see Reece standing behind me, his own eyes fixed on the birds above. He smiles slightly when I meet his gaze, stepping closer.

"It's so beautiful in here," I say. "I've never seen so many different birds in one place. I wish I knew what some of them were."

Reece looks up for a moment, carefully scanning the air. His eyes seem to take in everything at once: the cherry-red blossom tree with the yellow hanging birdhouse, the tangle of vines creeping wildly across the windows. Finally, they land on a small bird perched high up on one of the branches.

"That one's called a Mourning Dove," he says, pointing to a small, brown bird. "When they fly, their wings will usually make a whistling sound."

I raise my eyebrows, impressed. "Do you know any others?"

"That one there," Reece says, grabbing my hand before using it to point to a bird in the distance, "with the blue striped tail. That's called a Blue Jay. The little yellow one next to it is called a Palm Warbler."

I examine the yellow one, my favorite of all. It is so bright, so consuming, like something from another world. Then I remember this is exactly what the guests have been doing: pointing, smiling, using my looks to decide whether or not I am worth their attention.

Haven't I always wondered why the guests would choose to swim with the others over me? Isn't that exactly what I am doing now?

"What's wrong?" Reece asks.

I shake my head. If I had never known confinement, I could easily sit here marveling at these creatures, but now it seems empty. "Nothing," I say, forcing a smile. "What time is it?"

Reece looks at me for a moment as though he doesn't quite believe me. "We've still got a little bit of time to kill," he says. "Let's go."

Unable to help myself, I look back at the birds one last time. A Mourning Dove flies from his swinging spray of ivy on to the top of the little yellow birdhouse, his wings emmitting the softest whistling sound. He cocks his head in my direction, opening his beak before singing a loud, lovely trill. I squeeze Reece's fingers, allowing him to guide me back out of the aviary and down the narrow path.

Hey guys, sorry for bombarding you with updates! Last one for today ❤️