Chuckling, Galen complies. Emma holds the ring over the edge of the pool. The dolphins shriek in anticipation. “Shhh,” she tells them. They quiet down, hold still. “Try to put the ball through the hoop.”

Two of the heads disappear. The third one stays behind and squeals at Emma. She quiets him down again, just as one of the balls pops off the surface of the water and through the hoop she’s holding. Then the second one pops up, but this one misses the mark, grazing Emma’s hair instead. “I almost got a black eye out of the deal!” But she laughs and rewards the animals with a nose rub.

“It’s your turn,” she tells the smallest dolphin. Retrieving both soccer balls from the bleachers, she tosses them back in the center of the pool. “Go on,” she says, making a shooing motion with her hand. The animal stays put, it’s mouth slightly ajar as if smiling.

She turns to Dr. Milligan. “Looks like he doesn’t understand,” she says.

He snorts. “Oh, he understands, all right. He just doesn’t listen.”

This doesn’t seem to sit well with Emma. She splashes water at him. “Go on! What’s the matter? You too chicken-of-the-sea to play?”

Still, he stays, thrashing his head around like he’s arguing. His squeals sound contrary even to Galen’s untrained ears. The poor creature doesn’t realize how close to foot tapping Emma is, but Galen recognizes that stiff stance of impatience. It’s the same one she directed at him when they first met on this very beach. The same one she directed at Toraf when she informed him that Rayna could live with her. The same one she directed at Rachel when she booked the honeymoon suite for the two of them.

Just as Galen decides to intervene, the tension leaves Emma’s shoulders. “Oh,” she says softly. She steps out of her flip-flops and hoists herself onto the cool blue edge of the concrete tank.

“Emma,” Galen warns, though unsure of what exactly he’s warning against. He and Dr. Milligan exchange a look.

“I’m fine, Galen,” she says without looking back. She dangles her legs in the water, kicking in a slow, soothing rhythm. The two biggest dolphins come to her immediately, nudging her feet and creating choppy waves around her. But it’s the smallest dolphin who hoards her attention from across the tank by doing nothing at all. Hesitant, he inches toward her. When she reaches out to him, he submerges and shoots to the other side of the tank. Turning back to Galen and Dr. Milligan, Emma says, “He doesn’t trust us. Humans, I mean.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Milligan says. “What makes you say that?”

“His behavior.” Emma tilts her head. “See how he keeps his nose below the water? The other two poke their entire heads out. But he doesn’t, as if he’s thinking about jetting or something. And his eyes. They’re not as perky as the others. They look dull, out of focus. Not disinterest, not exactly.” She thumps water toward him, flicking droplets onto his nose. He doesn’t flinch. “No, he’s definitely curious about me. He’s just … well, he’s sad, I think.”

“Do you know, I think you’re right,” Dr. Milligan says, his expression somewhere between admiration and disbelief. “I’m not sure if you remember, but he wasn’t here this summer when you visited. He was beached on shore over in Panama City a few weeks ago. He’s the only one not born in captivity. We named him Lucky. I guess he would disagree.”

Emma nods. “He doesn’t like it here. Why was he beached?” By now Lucky has eased himself to within reach of Emma. She extends a hand to him, not to pet him, but in invitation for him to touch her first. After a few indecisive seconds, he nestles his nose into her palm.

“We don’t know. He wasn’t sick or injured, and he’s relatively young. How he got separated from his pod, we don’t know.”

“I think humans had something to do with him getting beached,” she says. Galen is surprised by the bitterness in her tone. “Will he ever get to go home?” Emma asks, not looking up. The way she caresses Lucky’s head reminds Galen of how his mother used to comb her fingers through Rayna’s hair trying to get her to sleep. The simple touch was a lullaby in itself. It looks like Lucky thinks so, too.

“Usually not, my dear. But I’ll see what I can do,” Dr. Milligan says.

Emma gives him a rueful smile. “That would be good.”

Galen stops short of shaking his head. If Dr. Milligan feels as rewarded by her smile as Galen does, then Lucky will be free in no time.

After a few more minutes, Dr. Milligan says, “My dear, I hate to draw you away, but perhaps we could make our way to the examination room.”

*   *   *

“Well, she’s definitely got the thick skin, doesn’t she?” Dr. Milligan says, inspecting the second needle he’s bent trying to penetrate her vein. “I guess I should break out the big guns.” He tosses the needle in the trash to dig around the top drawer of a stainless steel cabinet. “Ah-ha. This should be sufficient.”

Emma’s eyes go as round as sand dollars. Her legs press into the metal tabletop she’s sitting on. “That’s not a needle, that’s a straw!”

Galen stifles the reflex to take her hand in his. “He uses it on me, too. It doesn’t hurt, just pinches a little.”

She turns huge violet eyes to him. “You let him take your blood? Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s kind of an exchange. I give him samples to study, and he keeps me informed of what his colleagues are up to.”