I hand him the paper and he takes it gently. He glances at it and his eyebrows knit together. ‘Seriously?’ he asks in a small voice.

‘Um,’ I stammer, ‘yes?’ I squirm. ‘I have to go.’

‘Millie—’ he says, before he clears his throat and corrects himself. ‘I mean Andi. Andi, I can’t.’ He starts to hand the dive log back to me.

‘But . . .’ I falter. We’re both holding onto the paper now. He’s pushing it into my hands, but I’m refusing to take it. ‘You said we were OK, that I would see you in Boston. How . . . how are you refusing to sign it? We saw the fish.’ This isn’t happening, I’m thinking. He’s not going back on his word already. He’s not changing his mind about us already. He’s not doing this to get back at me . . . is he?

Hugh takes a step back, putting distance between us. ‘Andi, I can’t sign that.’

‘What do you mean you can’t?’

‘I don’t understand how you’re asking me that. That is an official Global Marine Biology record log. And it’s false. I can’t sign it.’

‘But we both saw the fish!’ I say, exasperated. My voice is louder than I intended. I feel anger surging in my chest. My heart rate is rising again. This can’t be happening.

‘But you’re not Millie. And it says Millie right there.’ Hugh points at the paper. His jawline is more pronounced than usual, like he’s clenching his perfect teeth.

I know I’m not Millie! I want to scream. I want to reach out and touch him, I want to shake him back and forth, erasing the anger from his face. I want to break down the wall I feel like he’s building.

‘But I’m doing this for Millie. I thought you understood that.’

He doesn’t budge.

‘Hugh, you can’t be serious,’ I say through a clenched jaw. I can feel him shutting me out. My chest tightens. My heart rate picks up. I don’t know how we got here. Weren’t we just making plans to see each other in Boston? I think. How do I get back to that?

‘I don’t know what to tell you, you’re not a marine biologist. It wouldn’t be ethical.’ Hugh’s expression hardens with frustration.

‘I can’t believe you,’ I say, fighting back tears. ‘This is it? You’re just going to refuse to help me? After everything?’

‘Look, I’m sorry.’

‘You’re sorry?’ I sputter back.