Her dad chuckled. “I didn’t say that. You think I’m going to let you two take my boat and head off into the Pacific Ocean all by yourselves? Rio, your grandmother would kill me. No, I can’t allow that.”

Rio’s heart sank.

“But,” said Birch, “what I can do is go with you.”

32

A New Plan

“You’ll take us?” Rio asked breathlessly. “You’ll help us find White Beak?”

“Yes,” Birch replied. “But first, I’m going to call your grandmother.”

Before Rio could protest, Birch stepped outside, closing the door firmly behind him. In the sealed hum of the cabin, only the occasional muffled word seeped through.

“Careful . . .”

“Perfectly safe . . .”

“Guardian . . .”

“She’ll never agree,” Rio muttered, eying the door.

It felt like the fate of White Beak hinged on a single telephone conversation. The cabin wasn’t large, but it seemed to shrink even further. After what felt like a lifetime, Birch’s voice fell silent. But rather than come back in, they heard him jump off the boat.

“Where’s he gone?” Rio whispered nervously.

“No idea,” Marina whispered back. The pair of them waited in silence. Apart from the ocean, the only sound the thrumming of their hearts.

Eventually, the door slowly creaked open, and silhouetted against the bright yellow lights of the harbor was Birch. But he wasn’t alone.

Behind him was another figure.

A tall, familiar figure wearing a jumpsuit and a pair of glasses.

“Fran?” Rio stood up in shock.

His grandmother stepped into the cabin and peered around, before settling her gaze on Rio. His stomach plummeted. No doubt she’d come to take him home. To put an end to the adventure before it had even begun.

“B-b-but what are you doing here?”

She took three long strides and then enveloped Rio into a hug. “You think I’m going to let my only grandchild take off on the wild ocean without me?”

Rio was surprised to hear the break in her voice. Even more surprising was the responding sense of warmth in his own heart. He hugged her tightly before she could pull away. She still had a thing or two to learn about hugs.

“I thought you got seasick?”

“I do,” she said, her face paling. “But that’s not going to stop me from coming with you.”

“I’ve known your grandmother a long time,” Birch said gently. “She’s been counting whales long before the Happywhale database was even created.”

“You have?!”

“You didn’t think it was just you who wanted to protect them?” she replied, peering at Rio over her glasses. “Oh, no, it runs in the family.”

“But . . . but . . .”

How come Rio had never found any of this out before? It was like he was seeing his grandmother for the first time. Not through the prism of his own pain—because prisms like that are never accurate—but as she truly was.