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My heart squeezes. The sea lion has shut its eyes again.

I don’t think we have hours.

“What do I do?” I say, panic gripping me. Suddenly, this feels like the most important thing in my life. This creature. This helpless, innocent, hurtinganimal. I remember Quint telling me, maybe my third day at the center, that not all the creatures they bring in survive. About 10 percent die within the first twenty-four hours, already too far gone to be rehabilitated, no matter what they do.

But that isn’t an option. I have to save this one.

“If you can find something to transport it in,” Rosa says, “maybe someone there has a vehicle you can use. It would be a lot easier for you to get a car out of downtown than it would be for us to get to you.”

A commotion draws my attention upward and I see the lifeguard charging toward us, a large crate in hand.

“Prudence?” says Rosa.

“Okay,” I say, a ferocious new conviction filling me. “We’ll come to you.”

“We’ll be ready when you get here.”

I end the call and toss the phone back to the woman. She scrambles, barely catching it before it drops into the sand.

“Pru!” Quint barges through the crowd, his face flushed like he’s just run a mile. “I heard there’s a—” He freezes in his tracks, his attention landing on the sea lion. It takes him all of two seconds to assess the situation and before I know it, he’s taking charge, stealing my professional responsibilities with a few confident orders barked at the crowd.You, see that bucket there? Go fill it with water.

Yes, ocean water is fine.

And I need some wet towels. Can we borrow yours? Let’s get that umbrella over here, give it some shade—we need to try to keep it from overheating as much as possible.

I experience a moment of irritation that he’s stealing my authority, but it’s smothered by a swell of relief. It’s the opposite of biology class, where I was always the one giving orders, telling him what to do. It’s a welcome change, especially in this situation, and… honestly, watching him take charge is kind of sexy.

I gulp, suddenly flustered.

“Quint?” says the lifeguard.

Quint glances at him and recognition fills his face. “Steven! Hey! How’s your summer?”

“Busy,” says Steven.

I gawk at them. “Excuse me!” I say, flabbergasted, and gesture to the sea lion. “Please focus.”

Quint gives me a look, suggesting,Hey, I can’t help it if I’m friends with literally every person at our school.

“What can we do?”

I look up to see Ari, Jude, and Ezra. A grin splits across my face. They’re all wearing matching yellow shirts, and together we look like an official rescue party.

Seeing the stacks of blue papers in their hands, it occurs to me that I couldn’t have planned for better publicity.

“Jude, help Quint and, uh, Steven,” I say, taking his flyers and dividing them between Ari and Ezra. “Pass these out.”

While Quint, Jude, and the lifeguard gently roll the sea lion onto a blanket so it can be hoisted into the waiting crate, I step away from their work and face the crowd. People all around us are snapping photos on their phones, watching with eager, worried eyes.

I inhale a deep breath. I don’t have time to rehearse, but I also don’t have time to get nervous.

“Folks, we’re here from the Fortuna Beach Sea Animal Rescue Center,” I say. “We obviously had no idea that this animal was going to wash ashore during our festival today, but this is a prime example of the sort of work we do. The rescue center works tirelessly to rescue injured and stranded sea animals—including sea lions like this little guy, but also elephant seals, harbor seals, fur seals, sea turtles, even otters.”

“What about dolphins?” asks the girl with the stick.

I smile at her. “Unfortunately, our facility is too small to care for dolphins, but in the past, we have worked to rescue and transport dolphins to a larger center near San Francisco.”

Her eyes go wide. “Cool.”