Still, for Damon, I’d do it. I’d risk the discomfort. The vulnerability. I’d knock again.
I push off from Dr. Kymbert’s empty door and start toward the far end of the corridor. I’m almost at Holden’s office when a familiar melody stops me in my tracks—Brazilby Declan McKenna, playing softly from the room just ahead.
I recognize it instantly.
That playlist—Maya’s “Surfer California Mascot” mix. She made it for Theo two weeks ago when Alana invited him to come have dinner with us.
Right. Theo’s office is next door. I’ve never gone to him for help—Holden made it pretty clear that marine biology isn’t Theo’s wheelhouse—but right now, the music takes the sharp edge off my nerves. And Theo… Theo feels like a safe place to land.
I shift sideways and knock lightly on his open door.
“Yup! Come in!” he calls out.
I step inside, and his beautiful smile falters the second he sees me. His gaze sweeps over my face, and that familiar frown of his—soft and worried—takes its place.
“Coralie? What’s wrong?”
He stops the music and crosses the room in two long strides. His hand lands gently on my arm, grounding me.
I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. His dark blue eyes search mine. Something about the quiet care in them makes my chest ache.
“I… I’m sorry to bother you,” I murmur. “Something’s wrong with Damon. The octopus in lab three.”
“I know who Damon is,” he says, already frowning deeper.
“You do?”
“Of course. Holden always—” He cuts himself off, then gives my arm a soft squeeze. “What’s going on?”
“He’s pale. Not interested in anything. He didn’t even touch the LEGO I put in his tank this morning.”
My voice catches at the end. I blink fast. Damn it—I didn’t want to cry over this, but I really might.
Theo doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me into a hug, arms wrapping tight around my shoulders. He rests his chin lightly on the top of my head.
He smells like sunscreen and clean laundry and some kind of citrus soap. The kind of scent that makes you think things will be okay, even when they’re not.
“What’ve you tried?” he asks softly.
“I checked everything. Water temp, salinity, ammonia, nitrates. I looked at his arms, his eyes, everything. Nothing’s obvious but something’s wrong.”
He nods slowly, still holding me. Then steps back just enough to look down at me again.
“I’m not exactly your marine life guy,” he says with a small, apologetic smile. “But… have you asked your professors?”
“The ones who really know Damon are out today,” I tell him. “I thought about going to Holden, but…”
Theo nods again like he already understands all of it—what I’m saying, andeverything I’m not.
“He’s not here either. But I’ll text him,” he says. “In the meantime, let’s go see the little dude. We’ll send H some pictures, see if he can help.”
I want to ask where Holden is. Why Theo sounds so sure. But I don’t. Right now, I just need someone steady. Someone who won’t ask me to explain the weight in my chest.
He pulls out his phone, already typing. I fall into step beside him as we head toward the lab.
All I can think about is that tank—and the clever, elusive creature inside it who’s never let me down.
Half an hour later, Theo has already texted Holden with pictures and a full breakdown of Damon’s condition. We’ve double-checked every component of the tank and, to my surprise, Theo—thanks to his marine engineering background—has pointed out a few possible adjustments I hadn’t considered. Damon isn’t doing much better yet, but when Theo dips a hand into the water, one of Damon’s arms curls gently around his fingers, curious. It’s small, but it’s something. I let myself smile.
