“But, Emmi—”

“This isn’t an impulsive decision. I’ve given it a lot of thought. We’ll give it a shot. If we can’t… if we fail… then okay.”

“But what will you do when John leaves?”

“John said he’d stay to help.” Her face softened. “He’s a wonderful boy. He loves Flo too, don’t forget. We talked about it seriously. I don’t want to interfere with his work. But he was adamant that he can work from here. Honestly, I couldn’t do it without him.”

Cara felt admiration for John bloom in her chest. “He’s a good man. I’ll never be able to thank him enough.”

“He doesn’t want your thanks. But…” She smiled. “What you can do is take over the turtle team. I’m going to be tied down at the house with Flo. The team needs someone they can count on to show up at every nest. To keep the records. Cara, you’ve been a project leader before. You know what has to be done. I don’t have to teach you. And,” she added, elbowing Cara in the ribs, “I know that when I want the job back, you’ll give it to me.”

Cara laughed and bumped shoulders. “I never could say no to you.”

LINNEA JUGGLED THE two bags of groceries in her arms as she negotiated the front stairs. It felt like the oat milk in the damp paper bag was about ready to break through. Lifting one knee to balance the bag, she tested the door handle and sighed with relief to find it unlocked. After a quick twist of the brass handle, she pushed open the door and hurried to the kitchen, where she unceremoniously plopped the bags on the counter with a heavy sigh. She needed to build up her muscles, she thought as she rolled her shoulders.

She heard music coming from Anna’s bedroom. “Anna! I’m back!” she called out.

There was no answer. She pulled a latte out of a smaller brown bag, followed by a bag of croissants. Sometimes it was the little things that cheered people up. She put a croissant on a plate and carried her treats from the kitchen down the hall to the bedroom, where music blared out in a pulsing, pounding beat. Balancing the coffee on the plate, she knocked on the door.

“Hey, you! I’ve got a surprise for you. It’s from Paname!”

She heard a gasp, then muffled voices. Linnea’s hand lowered and she leaned forward, listening intently. There was definitely someone in there with her. But who? She was tempted to put her ear to the door when she heard a crash, as if something had fallen off the bedside stand. This was followed by a burst of giggling, soprano and baritone. Then came a forced whisper, “Be quiet,” that was filled with more mirth than fear.

Linnea felt the paper coffee cup burn her fingers. She was inclined to push open the door and demand to know what was going on. But of course, she knew exactly what was going on. Linnea took a step back, then shook her head in disbelief. Cursing softly, she opened the coffee lid and, blowing on the steaming brew, took a sip as she made a hasty retreat.