I nod, unsure how I’m supposed to react to that. To any of this.

“Is there anything else bothering you, Emma?” Galen says, surprising me. I wonder why we bothered with the X-rays at all, when Galen can apparently see straight through me, into my deepest parts. Like last night, in the hotel room. When I got dressed after my forty-five-minute cry-a-thon in the shower, I found a box of chocolate-covered strawberries on my pillow and Galen folded up on the ugly love seat, sound asleep.

I clear my throat. “Dr. Milligan, I’m not sure if Galen told you or not, but my father was an MD. He took care of my runny noses, my scrapes, my immunizations. When he died, his friend Dr. Morton took over. How could they miss my bone structure, my slow pulse? You’d think they’d notice my heart is on the opposite side of my chest. I mean, are you sure you’re reading this right? You’re not a human doctor, you’re basically a veterinarian, right? You could be wrong.”

Galen seems antsy, shifting in his chair. While metal and polyester aren’t exactly the ingredients for coziness, I get the feeling it’s my question unsettling him instead of any physical discomfort.

Dr. Milligan pulls the rolling stool up to where I sit on the exam table. Reflexively, I lean toward him, crinkling the thin strip of paper separating me from the vinyl. He reaches out to pat my hand. “Emma, my dear, it’s natural to feel that way. And you’re right, I’m definitely not a human doctor, like your dad was. But it doesn’t take a human doctor to see the differences between my X-ray, Galen’s X-ray, and yours.” For emphasis, he inclines his head toward the wall where our bones are illuminated on the screen. Then he double-takes. “Good grief.” Jumping to his feet, he sends the metal stool toppling behind him.

Galen and I watch as Dr. Milligan rearranges the images in a whirlwind of warbling plastic: Dr. Milligan’s X-rays of himself, mine, then Galen’s. “Is this really possible?” he says, peering over the rim of his glasses at us, concentration knitting his brows together like kissing caterpillars.

Galen stands and crosses his arms, cocking his head at the lighted screen. Finally, he says, “I guess I’m not following, Dr. Milligan. What do you see?”

Dr. Milligan looks at me, his excitement making him appear years younger. I shake my head, unable to offer an intelligent guess. Dr. Milligan doesn’t miss a beat. “The first one, mine, is human. The last one, Galen’s, is Syrena. This is Emma’s, here in the middle. It’s obvious. So obvious, I’m ashamed. She’s definitely not human. But she isn’t Syrena either.”

I’m not liking the sound of this. I can tell Dr. Milligan thinks he’s already explained himself clearly; he’s looking at both of us like we’re opening a gift he gave us, and he can’t wait to see our reactions.

Galen saves us. “Dr. Milligan, you know as far as these things go, I’m pretty ignorant. For my sake, could you just give us the idiot version?”

I don’t like being impressed with Galen. Just when I had him sculpted as a snobby Royal in my head, he turns all humble on me, smashing the image.

Dr. Milligan chuckles. “Of course, my boy. Emma is neither human nor Syrena. She appears to be both. Though I’m not sure if that’s even possible. Syrena DNA is very different from human DNA.”

Galen steps back and takes his seat again. I’d do the same, if I weren’t already sitting. We both scowl at the lighted screen. As I stare at it, playing musical X-rays with my eyes, I see it. The three sharp images become a single blurry one. Human and Syrena bones melt together until there’s only one image on the entire screen: mine. A combination of the two.

“It’s possible,” Galen says quietly.

Dr. Milligan leans against the wall, curiosity lighting up his face. “It’s happened before,” he says, lacing his fingers together, probably to keep from fidgeting. “You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”

Galen nods. He turns to me. “It’s the main reason for the Great War. The reason we have two territories,” he tells me. “Thousands of years ago, Poseidon decided to live on land with the humans. Interaction wasn’t outlawed then, just sort of frowned upon. The humans revered him as one of their gods, sacrificing animals to him, making ridiculous flattering statues of him. They even built a city for him, and the Syrena who joined him on land. Tartessos, they called it.”

“Atlantis?” Dr. Milligan breathes, a hand over his chest.

Galen nods. “Some humans called it that at first.” He turns back to me. “Poseidon enjoyed living with the humans. He permitted his followers to mate with them. Even Poseidon chose a human mate, against his brother Triton’s wishes. Triton believed the humans were poisonous and destructive, and that mating with them was unnatural. As a show of his disapproval, he divided the territories; the Triton territory became home for those who didn’t approve of humans, the Poseidon territory for those of the opposite opinion. Poseidon ignored his brother and continued as he saw fit, using his gift to feed the growing population of Tartessos. Unfortunately, the human mate he chose belonged to someone else, a human king.”

“What human king?” Dr. Milligan asks, picking up his discarded metal stool and brushing it off as if it accumulated dust balls since his last sitting.

Galen shrugs. “I don’t know.” He turns to me again, a wry smile on his face. “Don’t care either. We Tritons tend to dislike humans.”