My voice seems to snap him out of it, because he flushes red and his lips compress back into his usual grim expression. He turns around and starts marching towards the boat.

‘All right, team,’ Vanessa announces, bouncing into the captain’s room. We’ve made it back and are sitting on opposite sides of the boat. He hasn’t looked at me once since we returned. When I thanked him again for taking me to grab sunscreen, he merely grunted.

‘Let’s start on our paperwork.’ Vanessa hands out clipboards and pens. ‘We’re waiting on two more, there’s only six of you on this trip. Well, plus,’ she starts counting on her fingers, ‘me and Miguel and Aaron. So, we are nine.’ She nods towards the doorway and the stairs. ‘After we’re done, I’ll show you the sleeping arrangements.’

The paperwork is simple. We state our scuba certification dates and credentials. I write out Millie’s information, which terrifies me, because she’s a lot more experienced than I am. Even though I watched a lot of YouTube review tutorials on how to set up gear and calculate decompression time, I still don’t feel prepared. I make a mental note to try and casually ask Vanessa or Miguel if they’ll review the equipment with me.

There’s an additional page that outlines our itinerary:

Day 1: All aboard at 10 a.m. Midday Dive + Late Afternoon Dive (Treasure Cove)

Day 2: Morning Dive + Afternoon Dive + Night Dive (Treasure Cove West, Wonder Reef)

Day 3: Morning Dive + Midday Dive + Late Afternoon Dive (Queen’s Point)

Day 4: Fitzroy Island Day Excursion + Turtle Rehabilitation Centre

Day 5: Morning Dive + Lunch. Disembark at 3 p.m. (Capricorn Reef)

Millie had painstakingly prepped me for all the dives but seeing them on paper while hearing the seagulls caw behind me feels different. She wrote out notes on each dive site, instructing me on what to look for and when and where the last butterfly wrasse sighting occurred. She bundled all her notes up for me in a little book that she tucked into my suitcase when she dropped me off at the airport. I started crying when I read the first page on my flight to Cairns, because she scrawled in her giant, loopy cursive: You’re gonna be great, sis.

I make a mental note to cross-reference Millie’s list with the itinerary they gave us. I can’t do any research on my own if the sites are different, but at least I would know not to put too much stock into the notes she left me.