Dolphin Tale 6

Chapter [23]

C h a p t e r   T w e n t y   T h r e e

DAWN ROSE AND SPREAD HER spindly fingers across the horizon, the resulting color and texture making it seem like someone had murdered a lipstick and had smeared it all over the sky. Of all the things in life, dawn had been one of Hazel's favorite times—one of the few peaceful times of day when she could reflect on her life, the warm golden rays signalling a new day; a new beginning; a time when she could forgive, forget, and move on—but now it only brought back memories of the cataclysm that had occurred a week ago.

Normally, the weak rays of sunlight would bless each person with its warmth, but it only instilled sadness and anger and regret into their minds, sending a flood of sparks through their veins as the mixed emotions collided with one another.

Hazel felt a presence behind her and she spun around, her nerves tingling with a sense of trepidation. She felt all the stale air leave her lungs—air she never realized she was holding in—when she caught sight of the tall, slightly stooping figure with streaks of grey hidden amongst the brown of his receding hairline.

"Dad," she breathed, taking a deep breath, "it's you."

Dr. Clay nodded, his gaze fixated on his daughter's face. He noticed that all the color, all the life, seemed to be drained from her cheeks, leaving a bleak, pasty look; all of Hazel's emotions had finally caught up with her, and it had been stressing her out to the point where nothing seemed to be able to break her any further—she had already reached her breaking point.

"I have Bondi's necropsy results," he said, his eyes never leaving Hazel's. "Do you want to know what it was that, you know, made him pass?"

Hazel swallowed uncertainly but nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Heart failure and a twisted gut. Lab technicians said that he suffered for a day or two, but the heart failure made it quicker. They said the heart failure was due to the storm; he'd probably never been through one like that and it just . . . they think it frightened him to death. There was evidence in the test we did before the storm that Bondi's heart was significantly weaker than before, but it was too late to try and save him because the storm came before we got the results and he hadn't been showing any signs of pain or odd behaviours—he was just as happy and playful and cheeky as always."

Hazel's heart plummeted down and down until it hit the pits of the earth and could go no further. Knowing that Bondi had suffered for a day or two sent splinters of ice and explosions of fire through her heart, the two conflicting elements creating flashes of pain that had her shaking as they repeatedly clashed together in a form of emotional and physical torture. She wanted to scream, to yell, but what good would it do? Nothing would bring Bondi back. This pain she was feeling was probably nothing in comparison to the agony he must have felt.

"Do Phoebe and Kat know? And Sawyer?" Hazel asked, desperately trying to control the tremors that were ripping through her body and the bittersweet tears that trailed down her face like miniature streams, speaking the words that remained unspoken within her heart. "Do they know?"

"Phoebe and Kat know, yes—I told them a few moments ago. I haven't seen Sawyer at all for two days, so he doesn't know. From what his mother told me, he plans on staying home for a while . . ."

"So Sawyer's not here," Hazel said, swallowing hard. "Why's he not here? He's always here, no matter what. Why is he staying at home when there's so much to do here? Why?" she asked, glaring intently at her father as though he knew the answer.

He didn't. And that only made Hazel angrier.

"He doesn't care, does he? He doesn't care about the animals, about the Aquarium, about the staff, about me, does he?" she said savagely. "All he cares about is himself. I just can't believe it."