“Right. That’s broken. What’s the highest storm surge this house has ever seen?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Nine feet.” She nodded.

“They’re now expecting fourteen. It’s hitting at high tide on a full moon.” Maybe I could break apart a chair or find some kind of bench to strap her to.

“They always overestimate.” She waved me off. “Lunar tide…now that’s a pickle, but I’d be willing to gamble that we don’t see over ten.”

Ten would put water in her first floor.

“Are you willing to gamble Fin’s life?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet so Fin couldn’t hear.

Vivian startled. “You really think it’s going to be that bad?”

“Do you think I would have driven down from D.C. if I thought you’d be okay? Your leg is broken. Fin is five years old. What would you do when water gushes in your door? I can’t leave Fin here. She is coming with me. But I won’t leave you here, either.”

Her mouth pursed as fear skated over her face. “But where would we go?”

“My house can take a fourteen-foot storm surge. It can probably take eighteen. I remodeled to hurricane proof it this year. It’s supposed to stand through a cat four, and this is just a strong three. But we have to go now. The water is rising, and if we don’t make it to the shore in time, we’ll be stuck here.” I scratched Juno’s head and mentally started counting. If she wouldn’t come with us in the next five minutes, I was going to have to knock her out and drag her.

“Imagine heading toward the shore and not inland.” She humphed. “Let’s go, then.”

My shoulders sagged with relief, but I couldn’t afford the time to savor it. We had to move quickly.

I found a shorter length of two-by-four by the door and used belts to splint the area under her leg the best I could. I apologized the whole time she screamed.

Finley’s eyes were wide as she watched.

“Are the animals all packed up?” I asked, watching the clock. The house moved with a groan.

Fin nodded. “Except Cousteau.”

Right. The fish.

“Okay. Get everybody by the door and put on your raincoat.” I patted her on the back, and she ran off.

Five minutes later, I had Cousteau in a water-filled Tupperware container. Phillip and Barnaby were in separate carriers at the bottom of a large beach bag. I slid Cousteau in on top and met Finley in the entry, where she had Juno in her carrier.

I got down to her eye level. “Okay, Fin. It’s windy and rainy and really scary out there, okay?”

She nodded, but her mouth trembled.