Page 74 of Endo
“Yeah, because that’s totally what I do,” she fires back, grabbing a bucket from the floor. “Smartass.”
I smirk, leaning against the counter as she steps up to the edge of a tank. She crouches, scooping up a handful of small fish and tossing them into the water. The sharks move instantly, snapping them up with quick, precise movements. It’s kind of eerie watching them, the way they move without hesitation.
“This is the rehab tank,” she explains, her tone softer now. “The animals here are recovering from injuries or illnesses. Once they’re healthy, we release them back into the ocean.”
“Rehab, huh? Guess even sharks can screw up their lives,” I say, crossing my arms.
She snorts, shaking her head. “Yeah, because getting tangled in fishing nets and hit by boats is totally their fault.”
“Touché,” I admit, watching as one of the manta rays glides up to the surface. “What about that guy? He in for bad behavior, or what?”
She points to one of the smaller sharks with a faint scar along its side. “That’s Archer. He was caught in a net and had a nasty infection when he came in. He’s doing a lot better now.”
Her voice changes when she talks about them—gets softer, like she’s talking about someone she actually knows. It’s... weirdly endearing.
“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” I ask, my tone more serious.
“Yeah,” she says, not looking away from the tank. “The ocean’s always been my thing, you know? It’s constant. Even when everything else is a mess, the ocean just... is.”
I nod, not saying anything for a moment. She’s not wrong. There’s something about this place, about her here, that feels different. Calmer. Like she’s more herself.
We step into a larger room with massive tanks lining the walls, each filled with clear blue water. The place is like an aquarium, but quieter, more intimate. The manta rays glide like they’ve got all the time in the world.
Lena stops in front of one of the bigger tanks. “Alright,” she says, turning to me with a grin. “You’re going to help me.”
“With what? Shark wrestling?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
She smirks. “Not quite. Come here.”
I push off the counter and follow her to the edge of the tank. Inside, a baby dolphin bobs just below the surface, its sleek body moving lazily through the water. It’s smaller than I expected, almost fragile looking, with a faint scar near its dorsal fin.
“This is Finn,” Lena says, crouching by the edge. “He’s recovering from a boat strike. We’re teaching him to swim again and making sure he’s eating properly.”
I glance down at the dolphin, who looks up at us with curious eyes. “What do you need me for? I don’t exactly speak dolphin.”
“You’re going to feed him,” she says, grabbing a small bucket of fish from the counter and handing it to me.
I take the bucket, skeptical. “What if he doesn’t like me?”
“He’ll like you,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Just hold the fish out and let him come to you.”
I crouch by the tank, feeling stupid as I hold out a small fish. Finn swims closer, his movements smooth and cautious. When he finally takes the fish from my hand, it’s gentle—careful, almost.
“See? Not so hard,” Lena says, grinning as she watches.
I glance up at her, smirking. “Guess I’ve got a way with animals.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she teases, standing. “Keep him company for a second. I’ll be right back.”
She disappears into another room, and I’m left alone with Finn. The little guy circles the tank a few times before coming back to the edge, where he bobs just below the surface, watching me.
“You’ve been through it, huh?” I mutter, resting my arms on the edge of the tank. “Yeah. Same here.”
Finn chirps softly, and for some reason, it hits me harder than it should. He’s in recovery, just like me. Pulled out of something that wasn’t his fault, stuck here until he’s strong enough to go back to the life he had before. And Lena? She’s the one helping him get there. Just like she’s been helping me, even when I didn’t want it.
The thought settles in my chest, heavy and strange. This place, this visit—it’s more than I expected. It’s not just about her showing me what she does. It’s her letting me in, showing me a piece of herself that’s raw and unguarded. And for the first time in a long time, I feel... lighter. Like maybe I can breathe a little easier.
Lena comes back, carrying a small net and a clipboard. She stops when she sees me, her expression softening. “You okay?”
