“I wasn’t sure what to expect,” Taylor says as they head back toward the boat. “I thought it might be just a bunch of random crap, but it’s not random at all. It’s pretty clear he has a vision, and it’s so impressive that he did it all by himself.”

“It’s magical,” Willa says. “I mean, no one really needs a house devoted to dolphins, but I feel like its existence makes the world a more hopeful place.”

“So . . . I have an idea.”

Willa cocks her head and waits for Taylor to go on.

“I’ve thought a lot about which of us is going to keep the Finley mermaid—”

“I already told you to take it,” Willa interrupts.

“I know,” Taylor says. “But what if we give her to Ashley? He could incorporate it into the Dolphin House, and people from all over the world would see it.”

“Do you think he’d go for that?”

“I mean, you’ve just seen his house. I’m pretty sure he’ll love it.”

They motor out to the sailboat and remove the mosaic mermaid from the bulkhead over the sink. On the back, Taylor writes Finley’s full name, birthdate, and the day she died. Willa isn’t completely sold on the idea—especially since she wants to keep the mermaid for herself—but when she sees the way Ashley’s face lights up, she changes her mind. He is a storyteller and they’re offering him a tale.

Back on the boat, they make good chicken tacos and gather their bedding into the cockpit to watch the sunset. Willa doesn’t look for the green flash. She lives in the moment and later falls asleep to the sound of gentle waves lapping against the hull.

Taylor

A FEW DAYS AND A Gulf Stream crossing later, they reach Marathon—a town that spans several of the Florida Keys—where they pick up a mooring ball for the night. They sleep a few hours and ghost out of the harbor before sunrise, like they were never there. Taylor keeps track of the lower Keys as they sail past. Big Pine. Ramrod. Summerland. Cudjoe. Sugarloaf. Saddlebunch. Finally, they round the western tip of Key West, and soon the harbor is within shouting distance. Taylor feels tears building behind her eyes as she unties the halyard to lower the mainsail. Making the detour to Bimini only delayed the inevitable. Soon their promise will be fulfilled. Their lives will diverge, maybe forever.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she says. “I just—I’m not ready to go back to the real world.”

“Okay,” Willa says, starting the engine. “But what if we reject the idea of the real world being different from this world? What if we don’t have to go back because we’re already here?”

Taylor’s eyebrows pull together. “I’m not following.”