This rear area of the hospital was more utilitarian than the larger, beautiful Mote aquarium. A large wall was dominated by an attractive sea-green and white mural depicting dolphins. The mural distracted the eye from the industrial gray stucco walls and towering water tanks in the behind-the-scenes outdoor arena. A few blue holding tanks occupied a corner of the space. All the tanks were empty save one, which held a dolphin.

“Oh, Delphine,” Carson murmured.

Carson had barely recognized the beautiful, beguiling Delphine she knew from Sullivan’s Island. That dolphin was a vigorous, sleek female in her prime. This dolphin’s skin was a dull gray, she was listless and weak, and her long body was crisscrossed with scars.

Staring at the listless dolphin, Carson couldn’t move or speak. Her heart was crushed under the weight of her guilt. Sitting in the glare of the sun, feeling the burn, Carson had to own that it was her fault this dolphin had been so badly injured. As Blake had told her, this is what her selfishness had brought them to.

Blake Legare worked for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in Charleston. He’d been her friend, her lover, but the fact that she’d kept from him the truth that she’d befriended a dolphin at the dock at Sea Breeze had forged a wedge between them. She’d gone against all that he worked so hard to educate the public against doing, and in the end she’d proved him correct. She’d fed a wild dolphin and the dolphin was injured. Yet Blake still arranged for her to visit the Mote Marine cetacean hospital, where he’d brought Delphine for treatment. For this, she’d always be grateful.

Carson had driven to Sarasota from Sullivan’s Island the day before. Tired and hungry, she arrived in town late and checked into a modest motel as close to the Mote Marine hospital as she could afford. She’d barely slept a wink waiting for dawn, and was standing at the doors of the hospital when they opened.

The staff had received word of her impending arrival and were friendly enough, but until formal permission was granted for access, all Carson was permitted to do was enter the hospital area, wait patiently, and watch. She’d been sitting for over an hour and that was more than enough time to observe how sick Delphine truly was. Even with Blake’s warning, she hadn’t been prepared for the extent of the dolphin’s injuries.

A short while later, Carson heard a voice call her name. She turned to see a tall, attractive woman in a swimsuit and bright blue rash guard with MOTE emblazoned across the chest. She wore her blond hair in a long ponytail and carried a clipboard. Carson sprang to her feet, eager to talk to someone about Delphine.

“You’re Carson Muir?” the woman asked.

“I am,” Carson replied, reaching out her hand.

“Lynne Byrd,” the woman replied in greeting, giving Carson’s hand a perfunctory shake.

Lynne looked at her clipboard, her demeanor all business. “It says here that you’re requesting to be allowed to volunteer with the dolphin rehabilitation program.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s see.” She checked her notes. “Dr. Blake Legare contacted us.” She glanced up. “Do you know Blake?”

Carson looked at the exceptionally pretty woman and felt a flutter of jealousy. “He’s a friend.”

She smiled. “Yeah, Blake’s a good guy. We’ve worked together,” she said in an offhand manner that spoke only of a professional relationship. “He asks that you specifically be allowed to volunteer with the dolphin Delphine.” She glanced up, questioning. “Why this dolphin?”

“I know this dolphin.”

“You know her?”

Carson heard the same censorious tone in Lynne’s voice that she’d noticed in Blake’s when he’d first learned that Carson had befriended a wild dolphin.

Carson nodded. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

Carson shifted her weight, resigned to the retelling of the painful incident. She knew that Lynne would be listening carefully not only to what she said, but also to what was left unsaid. Carson brought to mind the first time she’d seen Delphine in the Atlantic Ocean on that fateful morning.

“I was surfing outside Isle of Palms and a dolphin protected me from a bull shark that was messing with me. I’d read about this kind of thing happening, how dolphins save people’s lives, but you never really believe it, you know? But it happened to me,” she said in a somber tone. “I believe—I know—this dolphin saved my life.”

Lynne tilted her head in the way that told Carson her interest was piqued. “I’ve heard the stories, too. And I believe them,” Lynne conceded. “There are too many documented cases not to.”

Carson immediately liked the woman. “But Delphine paid a price for her heroism. As she tried to get away, the shark lashed out and bit her fin.”

“We figured the missing chunk in her fluke was from some sort of attack,” Lynne said.

Carson nodded. “A few days later, I was paddleboarding in the Cove—that’s a body of water behind Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina—this dolphin began following me, checking me out. When I saw the bitten fluke, I knew it was the same dolphin that had rescued me. I couldn’t believe it.” She let out a short laugh. “The dolphin recognized me before I recognized her.”

Lynne shook her head.

“I’m always amused when people are surprised at how smart dolphins are. We know they’re exceptionally intelligent creatures, but whenever we attribute them with any of what we think of as human qualities and smarts, we find it hard to accept. The truth is, dolphins are that kind of smart.” She paused to scribble something down on her clipboard. “So, how did she end up getting ensnared in all that fishing line?”

“This is the part I’m ashamed to tell,” Carson said. There was no skirting around her part in this. “I guess I was flattered that the dolphin recognized me. She seemed eager to befriend me, as much as I wanted to form a relationship with her, too. I know now that I should have stopped there. But I didn’t. I thought somehow I was special. So, I encouraged her. I named her. We swam together and I called her to the dock.” She paused, cringing. “We fed her fish. I know, I know . . .” she said quickly, seeing the flare-up in Lynne’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have. We did everything wrong.”