“Toraf has a cell phone here and knows how to use it, sweetie,” Rachel calls over her shoulder. “No sweat.”

* * *

Rayna does not get sick on planes. Also, Rayna does not stop talking on planes. By the time we land at Okaloosa Regional Airport, I’m wondering if I’ve spoken as many words in my entire life as she did on the plane. With no layovers, it was the longest forty-five minutes of my whole freaking existence.

I can tell Rachel’s nerves are also fringed. She orders an SUV limo—Rachel never does anything small—to pick us up and insists that Rayna try the complimentary champagne. I’m fairly certain it’s the first alcoholic beverage Rayna’s ever had, and by the time we reach the hotel on the beach, I’m all the way certain.

As Rayna snores in the seat across from me, Rachel checks us into the hotel and has our bags taken to our room. “Do you want to head over to the Gulfarium now?” she asks. “Or, uh, rest up a bit and wait for Rayna to wake up?”

This is an important decision. Personally, I’m not tired at all and would love to see a liquored-up Rayna negotiate the stairs at the Gulfarium. But I’d feel a certain guilt if she hit her hard head on a wooden rail or something and then we’d have to pay the Gulfarium for the damages her thick skull would surely cause. Plus, I’d have to suffer a reproving look from Dr. Milligan, which might actually hurt my feelings because he reminds me a bit of my dad.

So, I decide to do the right thing. “Let’s rest for a while and let her snap out of it. I’ll call Dr. Milligan and let him know we’ve checked in.”

Two hours later, Sleeping Beast wakes up and we head to see Dr. Milligan. Rayna is particularly grouchy when hungover—can you even get hungover from drinking champagne?—so she’s not terribly inclined to be nice to the security guard who lets us in. She mutters something under her breath—thank God she doesn’t have a real voice—and pushes past him like the spoiled Royalty she is.

I’m just about aggravated beyond redemption—until we see Dr. Milligan in a new exhibit of stingrays. He coos and murmurs as if they’re a litter of puppies in the tank begging to play with him. When he notices our arrival he smiles, and it feels like a coconut slushy on a sweltering day and it almost makes up for the crap I’ve been put through these past few days.

Dr. Milligan looks past me and smiles twice as wide. “You must be the famous Rachel, who Galen speaks so highly of.”

Rachel laughs. No, the woman giggles and she all but waltzes with an air cast up to Dr. Milligan and extends her hand to him. “Famous? Or infamous?”

That’s when Rayna and I exchange eye rolls. If this isn’t insta-attraction, I don’t know what is. And why, why, why I think of it this way I’m not sure, but since Dr. Milligan sort of reminds me of my dad, then this insta-googly-eye thing reminds me of Grom and my mother and how they were drawn to each other like magnets. So in a way, it’s like my dad—only it’s not really my dad, of course—has found someone else to keep him company. And I don’t know how I feel about it.

Which is pretty stupid, since this is Dr. Milligan and Rachel and it’s not my business to feel anything about it at all. Also, I should probably grow up soon or I’m going to go freaking crazy.

“Oh, no,” Dr. Milligan continues, oblivious to my internal tantrum. “Definitely famous. He adores you, you know.”

This is when Rayna pinches me. “What’s your problem?” she hisses. Rayna is more observant than I thought. I do not like that Rayna is more observant than I thought.

But I don’t have to answer because Dr. Milligan and Rachel snap out of it and try to tend to me just like Galen and Mom did. This has got to stop.

“Oh, my dear Emma, are you all right? You do look a bit peaked,” Dr. Milligan sings.

I wave him off. “I’m fine. Just happy to be here again. Do you still have Lucky?” Lucky is the beached dolphin the Gulfarium rescued this summer. I like to think I’d bonded with him the last time I was here.

“Of course. We wouldn’t release him without allowing you a proper good-bye.”

We make our way to the dolphin tank and for some reason I’m nervous about seeing Lucky again. I hope he remembers me. At the same time I realize it would crush me if he didn’t, I also realize that I’m getting more emotional by the second. It’s like everything in life has become a symbol somehow and I’m reading too much into it.

Grow up, grow up, grow up.

I do grow up, right before I reach my hand into the tank. Lucky remembers me, nuzzling me with his cute little nose. “Did you miss me?” I ask him. And I swear that dolphin nods.

“I missed you, too,” I tell him. “Have you learned any new tricks while I was away?”

It turns out Lucky has adapted a bit better since our last meeting. Last time he was sad and homesick, it seemed. This time he seems … he seems at home. Before I can allow myself to search for the symbolism in that, Lucky presents me with a soccer ball.

“Emma, do you want to come with us when Dr. Milligan examines Rayna?” Rachel asks. I don’t miss her meaning.

I pet Lucky. “I’ll be back, Lucky. Then we’ll play.”

As I pass Rachel to go back down the steps, she pulls me aside. “Is that for real? That dolphin understands what you’re saying? Seriously?”

Dr. Milligan chuckles. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Rayna tugs on his arm. “But me first,” she rasps.