The Price of Silence

"You'll find that I'm quite generous," the mermaid said, her voice like bubbles breaking on the surface. "Three gifts, freely given."

Jason, still shivering from his near-drowning, nodded weakly.

"First, your life—already saved." Her webbed fingers touched his chest.

"Second, wealth." She placed a string of pearls around his neck.

"And third?" Jason asked, voice hoarse.

The mermaid's eyes gleamed. "The most precious gift—my silence about how I found you."

Ten years later, Jason stood at the bow of his yacht, the company he'd built with those pearls now worth billions. The press called him a visionary, a self-made man who'd appeared out of nowhere with the seed money for what became the world's largest ocean cleanup enterprise.

His wife approached from behind, champagne flutes in hand. "To five years," she toasted.

He kissed her, the memory of that night still haunting him—how he'd pushed his business partner overboard during their argument, how he'd fallen in after. How no one would ever know.

That evening, as the party wound down, he found a woman sitting alone at the stern.

"You've done well," said the mermaid in human form.

"You promised silence," Jason hissed.

"I've kept my word," she replied. "But my silence grows heavy."

Every year after, she returned, always watching, never speaking, but her price increased—donations to ocean conservation, stricter environmental policies for his company, political endorsements for climate candidates.

On his deathbed, surrounded by admirers calling him an environmental hero, the mermaid appeared one last time.

"Was it worth it?" he asked her.

"Your gifts have saved countless ocean lives," she said. "Your silence bought mine. Fair exchange."

Jason closed his eyes. "The silence was the heaviest gift of all."

The mermaid nodded. "They always are."