Coconut Grove nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.

She couldn’t argue with him. Druid knew it was a harsh thing to say. And seeing as Sequoia would never actually have named her after Penn, she couldn’t corroborate his supposition. The yearling merely shrugged, happy to drop the subject now, especially because it was making her pine for her mother and Druid needed to keep Sequoia et al out of her head as much as possible.

Druid knew how much patience fishing required, yet she couldn’t muster it up today. Every time she tried to concentrate, her thoughts strayed down dangerous paths. Eventually, she heaved a sigh and waded back toward the shore without a word. She stepped out of the surf, shook out each of her stockinged feet, then glanced at the man whose name she still didn’t know.

I should get going, she said, glancing off in the direction of the rock where she’d left Bracelet to bask. No matter how much she knew she should also leave her behind too, Druid knew she couldn’t bring herself to part with the snake. They had just reunited and, well, there was a part of her that clung to this last memento of Rivenwood, despite herself.