Chapter 141: Madeline
Everyone’s eaten by now — a few crumbs on plates, half-empty coffee mugs, the smell of caffeine and sugar still lingering. The mood has loosened slightly, but I can still feel the weight of eyes and unsaid things hanging over the table. Mostly from Sloane. I make a very conscious effort not to look at her, not when every instinct tells me she’d still love to shove me through a wall.
Reid clears his throat, and the quiet breaks.
“We’ll work here today,” he says, voice steady and commanding. “Not the best idea to cram everyone on the boat. We’ll focus on data and paperwork.”
Jake nods beside him. “Sloane, Liam, Finn, and Madeline — you four got incredible data from the dolphin pod and the blue and fin whales two days ago, so we'll start with that. Sort through it, see what’s worth processing.”
My spine straightens. The reminder makes me proud — the whales, the tag, the pure luck of that day — but then Reid’s voice cuts in again, turning toward Charlie.
“Charlie, you’ll finalize the paperwork for the scuba gear.”
I snap my head up so fast my hair brushes my cheek.
“What did you just say?”
Charlie’s smirking already. “You heard him. Scuba gear.”
Jake leans back, grinning faintly. “We’ve been trying to get the license for scientific diving here for years. Finally got approved a few weeks ago.”
My eyes widen. “Wait — actually? You mean like—”
Reid nods once, that faint glint of amusement in his eyes. “Your resume says you’re PADI certified, right?”
“Yes!” I say it so fast it almost comes out in one syllable. “Yes, I am, level two. I— I love diving—”
Charlie giggles, cutting me off. “Then congrats, Mads. Once the paperwork’s cleared, you’ll be able to dive at certain sites for field research.”
I can’t help it. My whole body feels electric — I want to jump, scream, hug them.
The twins just chuckle, watching me practically bounce in my seat.
Reid looks across the table toward Finn and Liam. “And you two— you’ll start your PADI training today.”
They both freeze mid-bite. “Wait— seriously?” Liam blurts.
Jake grins. “Yeah. We know you’ve been asking about it for a while. Along with the gear, we got a bit of extra funding to train divers. So after you finish the theory work, you’ll do your field test and be certified. You’ll assist Madeline when needed.”
The boys immediately prop across the table for a high-five, ecstatic. Charlie laughs.
Reid lets them celebrate for half a second before saying, “You’ll need to study a lot, though. So you start today.” He slides the thick PADI manuals across the table, one for each. Their groans are half misery, half joy.
Then his gaze moves to Sloane. “You’ll handle the logistics. If we’ve got divers on board, we’ll need to accommodate the new equipment on the Vigil or move any diving operations to the Mariner.”
Sloane just nods stiffly, jotting notes like she’s not grinding her teeth.
Finally, his eyes come to me. “Madeline — go through everything you’ve got from the dolphins and the whales. Photos, tag data, sound samples. Sort it out, and tell us if we’ve got enough for a preliminary draft.”
I nod, smiling bright. “Got it.”
For the first time since walking in, the air feels lighter.
Work. Order. Purpose.
Exactly what I need — something to ground me before everything else spins again.
We fall into a rhythm.
The first real, quiet rhythm since… god, probably before the party. Everyone’s working. Finn and Liam, shockingly, are laser-focused — heads bent over their PADI manuals, whispering once in a while, eyes bright like actual students who want this.
Jake and Sloane talk in low, measured tones at the other end of the table — murmurs about deck layout, oxygen storage, tank racks, “Vigil versus Mariner.”
And me? I slip into my element.
The soft scratch of my pencil, the hum of the coffee maker in the background — it’s grounding. Familiar.
I start with the dolphins. Zoom in on every photo, checking dorsal fins and flukes, scanning for scars or deep rake marks — signs of sharks, or males establishing dominance. A few small propeller cuts here and there; one with a net abrasion line. I jot down notes. Calculate an approximate pod size. Species confirmation: Delphinus delphis, short-beaked common dolphin.
Then I move to the whales. The grainy photo of that towering blue-gray back fills my screen, and my heart squeezes. Even still, I can hear the sound of its spout — deafening, otherworldly, right next to us.
The quiet’s comfortable… until my curiosity gets the better of me.
“So…” I say softly, glancing up from my laptop. “Why are we working here today, exactly? Why not Dock Square? You guys seem to like it there better.”
Jake opens his mouth — the start of an easy answer on his tongue — but Sloane cuts in before he can get a word out.
She exhales through her nose, the sound sharp, and shoots me a sideways glare. “Because some of us actually get work done here.”
The words are clipped, not outright cruel but heavy with that same quiet venom I’ve started to recognize in her.
Jake’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t jump in yet.
I swallow, my pulse skipping a beat. “Right. Okay,” I murmur, turning back to my screen, pretending to focus on the whale data — even though I can feel her eyes on me, still burning, like she’s waiting for me to say something else.
Sloane’s voice slices through the quiet like the edge of a blade.
“You know what I find weird?” she says, loud enough that everyone stops typing or writing. Even Finn and Liam look up from their manuals.
My stomach tightens.
Sloane leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, that same slow, assessing glare crawling up and down me like I’m some sort of case study. “That you showed up here out of nowhere,” she continues. “Just— poof. One day you’re the new marine biologist on the team, everyone’s bending over backwards for you, and nobody really knows why you’re here.”
I blink, unsure where this is going, unsure why the air suddenly feels like static.
She tilts her head, a thin, cold smile curling her mouth. “So maybe you should enlighten us, huh? Why the hell would someone from a prestigious school—” she draws out the words, mockingly sweet, “—leave all that behind to come to this godforsaken place?”
Silence.
Even Jake and Reid have gone still.
My pulse hammers in my ears, throat dry, because I can feel every pair of eyes on me now — the team, the twins, everyone waiting for what I’ll say next.